Strangeination’s Weblog

Real Shit
August 26, 2009, 1:10 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I am a Farce.

A Fraud.

A Ball of pretentious emotion

And bottled up rage

Bubbling over

And corroding your counter tops.

I fill in the cracks

And seethe through your silent reading.

I disrupt your train of thought

With my melancholy enchantment.

 I am a Farce.

A fanatically inclined

Judgmental narcissist

Neurotic and alone.

I will devour your calm demeanor

And use your playfully chosen words

Against you.

I am not a dream.

I am not a fantasy.

I am a Farce.


The Trees
August 18, 2009, 6:55 pm
Filed under: Everyday Outlet | Tags: , , , , , , ,

How long has it been

My mind tends to forget.

It’s constantly recycling

Remember and regret.

I’ve felt the way you look at me

I’ve seen the way you taste

I’ve heard all of your subtleness

I’ve seen all of your waste

July 17, 2008, 1:55 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , ,

I feel stagnate and stale

My potential is drifting away like chunks of ice from a glacier.

My keystrokes increase and my creativity dwindles

I’m lifeless, floating from one task to another

And never discovering my voice.

The Chase
July 10, 2008, 2:47 pm
Filed under: Everyday Outlet | Tags: , ,

I smiled at you slightly

–You’re eyes burst into flame.

I managed to hold off a bit, before I spoke your name.

I whispered and you heard me

The recognition– turned to fame.

I’m getting very old you know, too late to play this game.

July 9, 2008, 8:27 pm
Filed under: Everyday Outlet | Tags: , ,

Just a moment to myself

I’m grab it when i can

Just a second for my thoughts

Before the shifting sand.

I thought it would be much easier

To leave you standing still

To gather up my things

And leave you with the bill.

But I found myself regretting

The harshness in my voice

The tone behind my longing

My wisdom, and my choice.

The Source
May 7, 2008, 11:31 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , ,

Why does it eat at me,

Why? Why do I feel the need so badly.

It’s persistent, as if life were about to end,

As if my only contribution could be________.

My only contribution hangs in the balance,

When I think about the pain, the struggles, the misunderstanding,

and undue influence, the mistreatment and sacrifice

That this one thing will carry forever.


Why does it eat at me?

I am a young women, not old, not past her time.

I still have a chance, many opportunities to try,

To become a better woman, mother , friend.

So why does it eat at me. It is not mine,

Not my longing that creates the need to conceive,

But something else.

Something that eats at me, and begs me–

When? When? WHEN?

When will you contribute me?

To start
April 16, 2008, 1:24 am
Filed under: Poetry | Tags:

Underneath it all

You know I’m just the same

Scared little girl

Taking walks in the rain.

With my light brown hair

And my dark blue eyes

There’s nothing so sacred

As a woman’s disguise.