Comments Posted By Octowhat
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trapped in little teensy glue pools or pinned on corks and set atop a stream
their mouths rimmed with hooks and they pucker up for a kiss
round wounds round worms round bellies strings of lifer twisting out of the bottom of your foot
some are jellyfish some like the same stuff you did some people buy swordfish and pay extra for the movement from worms that decided finders keepers.
losers weepers weeping sores lick it away lick it away taste the warm rot and put the worm back in your arm
» Posted By Octowhat On 04.01.2015 @ 7:14 am
why are the things that are always intangible
the ones that scream to be touched?
when i near the end of my life
and i see you holding my hand
i will take a breath and pop
into billions of bits of me
i’ll float on the air, fall into the pockets
go through a cigarrette or three
and i will still exist, still living
but it’ll be the freest kind of free.
» Posted By Octowhat On 07.30.2013 @ 5:12 am
why is it i never feel that tingling
that feeling that i’ve done right
because underneath the mingling
of smiles and eyes all bright
i feel like what I want to see myself become
is wasted and lost under my bed
along with my journals and socks and some
things that i thought were dead
» Posted By Octowhat On 07.29.2013 @ 7:00 am
Hidden talent can not be smelt
nor dealt with in a reasonable way
why oh why does jealousy get all over your dress
but you don’t use a napkin
to clear it away and accept
there is always someone better
you can try to lose it
but you won’t gain
» Posted By Octowhat On 07.13.2013 @ 1:59 pm
Death collected my dog today.
He’s lying on a blanket, shaved hiney covered and eyes half open.
I wish we could have given him more, but all I can think of is
he was still so warm.
» Posted By Octowhat On 07.07.2013 @ 7:59 am
Sticky tricky bits of light
They know, they know, so don’t put up a fight
Because you know it much better than they
That glue won’t keep the burns away…
But into the glue jar you let your hands dive
lick your little fingers, feel the moisture dry
The wormy squirmy, mushy heart
has no need for plastic art.
Roll up your socks if they cling to your toes
blink twice and once if the beating slows
You know who I am and if you don’t I won’t tell
rosy cheeks don’t suit you too well.
» Posted By Octowhat On 06.06.2013 @ 7:53 am
Such a careless movement
no layers to plan
just one decision to make
or climb out of the cradle and think of what it could have been
no chance for regret or repeats
toss and turn, weigh the options
because once it snaps
whips into the air
and then it’s clear
it will have to end
and it won’t be graceful, will it?
» Posted By Octowhat On 05.21.2013 @ 7:15 am
rounded like a door knob, then
sloped like a valley
ending at the trunk of a sapling
and if you dare to climb it
nestled in the leaves
among the birds and the blossoms
is the most terrifying thing:
the mind of man
» Posted By Octowhat On 05.15.2013 @ 10:11 am
It seems to be the same again and again
I make a whole future for ourselves bathed in honey light
I set myself up for quite the fall as soon as I fall in love
I have the feeling that you shouldn’t be able to do this to me
whoever “you” are, but it seems like every single time
I’m on the floor writhing and my hair gets soaked
my nose runs, my throat clogs up
and I’m choking up on sobs and smashed would-be memories
I feel wrapped in cellophane
under my eyes seize up
my face tingles
my ears feel washed but dulled
I burn up and my heart…
oh my god my chest
like we won’t be the way I wanted
because oh no no no goodness no
I shake and I shake, wringing my hands
bite my fingers and knuckles to see the marks I can make
revel in the throbs and pain.
i look in the mirror to see me
contorted into this blotchy, red-eyed wrinkled fool
kicking my legs like a child in a tantrum
I look like an idiot
so…what to do?
I even know these things will come
just why is it never me?
why does it always be someone else who is happy
can know you like no other
will bore you or not
and I will be there with a pathetic box of chocolates
or left at the altar of an unplanned wedding
dolled up, nearly wetting myself with excitement and possibility
and away it bubbles and smokes like a photograph thrust into a fire for dramatic purposes
I don’t want to do anything but wrap myself up in a heavy carpet and bleed myself dry
eat myself whole
glow with such force that I dissolve
the pressure from my wracking sobs should do that but
I stay intact to continue this cycle again and again
and I know it
I KNOW THAT WE COULD BE SO MUCH
I SEEEEEE ITTT
but it’s not to be
so save your tears for something that happens.
» Posted By Octowhat On 05.07.2013 @ 11:09 am
I wept a little when I realized
that the one you loved was apart from me
that you would extend a hand to help her down from a ledge
or a stage
or a wall
and I would be left to jump and hear my knees crack and bend
I could lie down and let them throb
(hot pulses how wonderful)
but you’d be walking away and I want
because it hurts so well to be tossed away by you
to be ignored by you
it makes me feel special
as if I’m the only one whose heart has been broken
(not that I’m the only one you’d love, a bit too late for that one.)
those words like to pop up
If only I had not blushed so much
(when you once called me bashful I almost threw up)
If only I had spoken to you
(that was a biggie.)
If only I had made you realize that there were people who wanted to be with you
who “like” liked you.
And I can’t be mad at this girl
(even if I convince myself I’m superior…I can’t help my nature).
I can’t hate her for taking away something only I was aware of
and I can’t blame others for not caring about it.
that’s what it comes down to.
and my mother is right, of course.
that in a few years we may see eachother at a party or some other
gathering of old friends and we will have beautiful people on our arms and I can say then
“I nearly loved you, you know.”
Then again, you may know now
and I’m not for you
and I can’t blame you for it
(as easy as that would be).
I’m tired, though
Tired of being so blue and heavy
(blue from bruises, heavy from…?)
And, you know,
It’s okay that you broke my heart a little.
made me tougher
made me realize things don’t work out
(goodness do I know that)
And I’m very happy
that you’re happy.
» Posted By Octowhat On 04.30.2013 @ 7:31 am
you have a two syllable interaction
Ahh CHOO (or AHH choo)
Bless YOU (BLESS you)
Thank YOU (THANK you)
And there, it’s done.
Automatic, mindless interaction
simple and free.
» Posted By Octowhat On 04.11.2013 @ 10:16 am
we’ll give you this
(though not much)
so you can keep on doing what you do
(which isn’t much either)
we feel sorry for your problems
(but life’s tough titty)
so take this.
» Posted By Octowhat On 04.10.2013 @ 6:09 pm
Golden waves: image
commonly put upon the
final page, I think.
» Posted By Octowhat On 03.29.2013 @ 2:30 pm
Netting can’t catch you
so you spatter like an egg,
disturbed from your final resting place
but you’re not even dead.
Contentment is weeded,
pulled up with roots hanging and dripping.
Your heart is unsettled in its imperfect cage,
it rocks and coos to itself.
So you’re always spinning,
eyes hurt from seeing blurs,
no rest for the wicked…
You didn’t even realize you were wicked.
» Posted By Octowhat On 03.28.2013 @ 8:15 am
It’s amazing how
in a beat of the heart
a person can suddenly glow
a light cast upon them,
their colors bleeding out
into your world.
They are a shine in the hair of a beautiful girl
a twinkle in the eye of an old man
and it’s then
when they are near
they are so very far.
leaves spots in your vision
when you’re alone.
How strange that a person
you may not even know
becomes the center of your world.
Crowds can not hide them
every move of their’s magic
their eyes are made of stardust
and their laughter is tragic
A song in you rises
and you can’t help but sing it…
Who knew how lovely he could be
bathed in moonlight, naked, free
Who knew how soft his arms would be
each hot kiss melting like honey
His breath like milk
fingertips like scars
his eyes are sapphires
stained with stars
his laugh fills his chest right next to me
If only his love was meant for me
» Posted By Octowhat On 03.26.2013 @ 12:37 pm
Tasting the air, the blues bleed in.
They steep like tea, changing it all into an effervescent
sparkling, miraculous stain
that marks your hands, your chest, your eyes…
God, your eyes.
Your eyes sting vapourously
burn my lungs
scorch my cheeks.
“Calcifer” they whisper
and they are gone, leaving sunspots.
Wave my hand through them, they dissapate.
Unknowingly, we were thrust together,
madly clamouring for a sense of touching
but feeling none.
We grew frusterated
scratching and grasping
at clothes, hair, skin
pulling and pushing
breathing hard and growing warm
bashing and pinching until
our skin is paper
soaking up ink.
We fell when we saw ourselves in the other’s wide eyes
we sob opalescent tears that, despite ourselves
we lick off our cheeks.
Exhausted and sore,
at last fall asleep.
» Posted By Octowhat On 03.25.2013 @ 7:17 pm
Oh, what a blush-inducing concept
a fever of the mind
reels to think what life could mean
if it didn’t end
For though all the possibilities
all the walks alone
none could compare to
the frightening realization that
each time you wake up you can relax and take a breath
for no matter how many times you do
it won’t be your last.
» Posted By Octowhat On 03.13.2013 @ 5:24 pm
Leather loafers after a walk in the river, creaking
and the screams as it dries
once had life, and now it flies
swirling away, they shrink without speaking
twisted and old, maybe still young
but under the wrinkles beauty’s undone
and lost innocence always prevails, it seems
and the fountain of youth is only in dreams
so, they can no longer be worn, these worn shoes of mine
and they are put with the rubbish, there they are swept
away through the town like a lady who wept
rubies and emeralds flowed from her eyes
And that is the pain when a flower just dies.
» Posted By Octowhat On 03.10.2013 @ 7:37 pm
going going gone
choking choking on a song and
it feels so, so good and
then it blackens, flakes and blisters
forming where they should not, it stirs
and, eating until it’s more than full,
containment is impossible
» Posted By Octowhat On 03.05.2013 @ 11:57 am
worming its way into your ear
made its way to your skull
the eggy pinkness of your mind
and there it sits
nagging, pulling, eating
sucking rationality dry until
it is invisible
and there all the time
» Posted By Octowhat On 03.02.2013 @ 9:36 pm
Does it shock
you to know
eternity will reach an end
life will close its eyes
your day will be over
your body older
sagging shoulder on a pillow
while you contemplate this reality
Truth does not exist
but it is reality, and you can either
or reject it.
» Posted By Octowhat On 02.26.2013 @ 9:53 am
They have it here,
They hid it there
but nothing else can make my hair
stand up on end as when you’re near
and I hear your breaths echo in this
monstrously small, dark, crevice
a crack in a wall you always miss
and when I met you on that terrace
the world seemed larger than it ever could be
how could I have seen, then, how could I not see,
We had dug ourselves a hole for two
Just for you and me.
» Posted By Octowhat On 02.24.2013 @ 10:00 am
I do not…
I can not…
This concept is not…
I don’t understand.
I can’t even register how or where it/you are/is.
How cold is it in your heart? You beg ME to stop?
your fingers are metal poles
that were kept in a ‘fridgerator.
And frankly it makes me uncomfortable when you clutch at me like that.
Gooseflesh is unpleasant.
» Posted By Octowhat On 02.19.2013 @ 1:22 pm
up up up
not going down
you look lovely in that gown
care to dance?
don’t mine if I do
My how you’ve grown
may I live with you?
» Posted By Octowhat On 02.09.2013 @ 10:49 am
GO, go on!
Get away. I’d like to see you permeate through this shit.
Because nothing you could do, nothing at all
could wreck it or melt it or crumble it down
You’d be breaking yourself…
» Posted By Octowhat On 02.03.2013 @ 4:56 pm
who can it be
knocking at my tree
and wanting to flee
who can it be
sleeping next to me
do I know you, sir?
Or are you strange to me?
Oh, no. I’m just dropping in.
» Posted By Octowhat On 01.28.2013 @ 6:47 pm
the heart may beat
in fevered heat
causing red to rise
but my love for you
can not be true
it’s too shrunk down to size
» Posted By Octowhat On 01.15.2013 @ 2:47 pm
» Posted By Octowhat On 12.31.2012 @ 2:52 pm
I can make it my life… people can pay admission to see just a bit of me that can be tweaked and redone again and again.
I can’t make mistakes, and they wouldn’t have to know me.
They could sit and do as they please while I can live out a plan I made in my head.
That would make it easy.
» Posted By Octowhat On 12.27.2012 @ 12:09 pm
Back To Stats Page
A moment on your way to the store, and you get T-boned
A moment when that cake topples over, leaving sweet billows behind
Living is all the work you put into it,
Taken away in a breath.
» Posted By Octowhat On 12.15.2012 @ 6:48 am