Babes

It is a waste of time to protest the minority.







Witta

Weekly Artillery

1. echs
2. oh
3. echs
4. oh
5. echs
6. oh
7. echs
8. oh
9. echs
10. oh
11. echs
12. oh
13. i've found that it's easier to feel emotions than it is to put them down on paper or keyboard, and it's nearly impossible to verbalize a feeling without sounding contrived, clingy, cliche, or insincere. 

• swimming around at the base of my skull where the vertebrae meet the hollow of my back, an army of feelings float up from within at searing hot temperatures, boiling and bubbling over in a frothy hot stew, flooding my eyelids, my mouth, my nose, my ears, yet still this deluge has prompted me to speak. 

yet i cannot find the words

and thus shall i remain

within myself

scratching sonnets into dank cave walls

enduring each lonely drip of water echoing within my head

as if it were the last sound i should ever hear

Honey

you taste so sweet to me

but even the coffee is bitter sometimes

i don't know how i found this path,

nor can i see where it ends

i cannot foresee how far it should take me

but all i know is that here: 

i

am

happy

because when he smiles, i smile too.

may ART bless the passionate, 

for without heart the blood of any motive shall never flow freely;

it shall congeal and ferment like cold aspirations

stifled by a lack of mutual respect

between people, each other, the world, and all things both significant and non.  

in ART

forever, yesterday and now,

+ The Artchbishope

Count the candles

I'll have one, please:

A man
who can stand
on his own.
A man
to hold my hand.
A man
who shan't
abandon
me.

Give me:

A family.
Mouths to feed.
I won't be greedy.
You will see.

The love I have
Has a home.

Too bad:
I am merely a child.
My spirit has yet a first birthday
Child bearing child is a no go.
So Sad:
Housing love is hard when the moving truck comes.

Sunshine89

That heavy, weightless feeling

'Tis Dark.

Who turned out the light?

I hate this heavy-hearted, light-headed feeling.
It is love broken.

Pillow.

Over.

Face.

Open mouth to breathe

that fabric right on in.

Knee to the throat.

Brake the trachea.

Fist to the torso. 

Fracture three neighboring ribs.

Punctured lung.

...Deflate.

Please, remove the bag from my head.

I'd rather have a tag on my toe.

Fight-to-Win.

Claw the dirt.

Struggle.

Kick.

Wiggle.

Retreat.

Gasp.

Just let a little in.

I’ll make it last.

I promise.

My lungs do not work well

Now that I cannot breathe you in.

sunshine89

that special new beginning

the bright light of a new beginning
the pink and orange hue of a rising sun
the wet grass from the morning dew
you make me appreciate whats beautiful in life
im finally jarred from my brainwashed existence
lucky is not the word but blessed
my personality is no longer faked for the sake of others
with you by my side i am myself
continuously happy and forever grateful

ollie

word problems.

Johnny lives in a crappy apartment at point A. He wants to go to this party at
his friend Scottie's house (point B) that he heard this other girl Jill was going
to that he really liked, but isn't sure if she likes him back. Johnny gets the idea that
he brings some alcohol to the party, then not only will he score points with his girl,
but they will both get super sloshed. Well, the liquor store (point C) is only about 5
blocks out from Johnny's house so he drives out to get a whole bunch of bourbon (which he
heard from his friend Nick is totally Jill's favorite) and proceeds to drive the 15 blocks it
takes to get out to Scottie's place. Now when Johnny gets to the house and reveals that he
picked up booze everyone gets super excited, especially Jill. The two spend three hours getting
trashed and telling each other about how they dislike the Chinese. Finally, Jill suggests they go
back to Johnny's place. This suggestion sounds perfect to Johnny, who hasn't had nearly as much as
Jill and is totally good to drive (totally...) . Johnny suggests that they go back the way he came,
but Jill claims to know a short cut through the suburbs that her family lives in. The road, she claims
is a direct beeline to Johnny's apartment complex, and it's a bit shorter.

You decide. Would it make more sense to go Johnny's way? or Jill's?


Witta

late-night letters

im standing here until you make me move.
i can't help it. i'm sorry.
no, fuck. i'm not.
stop playing these fucking games
KISS ME, OR DON'T
stop and look at me for a moment...
dont walk out the door, babe.
i really dont want you to leave. i just...
i just want a fucking kiss.




why?... 
                                                                              
                                                                     um, why what?



i hate this... i have to sit all alone tonight, and think of you. 
listen to my own steady heartbeat against the static of  a stereo in a
dimly lit room...i miss the tone of your voice and the way that 
you look when the light that reaches your eyes meets the smile
that finds its way to your lips                              its all i can think, breathe, speak
....i'll admit i'm tangled up in a web of your blankets and sheets, but i'm okay with it.
ive never found one as rare and golden, dear, i swear that,
 with three words,
the world wouldn't matter.


**********And then, suddenly, i would grab the keys and go. No shoes, but a pack of filters secured
tightly in my ass pocket. Driving, probably quite stoned...no need for seatbelts, as always.
Start the fucking car, already...
I wonder, does she think i'm cliche? Probably. **************

speeding car, down yet another solemn interstate, and, out of
all the things i'm thinking about the good ole days...

....Love those shadows underneath your eyes
                                    
        hey...   i love that little boy that lives inside your smile.
she sings, i laugh a little. good night.

-Queen-
KING AMY

Hide me,
Find me.
Love me,
Hate me.
Chase me
to date me.
Outlast me
Outcast  me
Harass
but Don't ask me.
Move on,
You can't be odd long.
Shut up
Step up
Man up
Get the fuck
out.

sunshine89

the thought process of a mime.

breathe in carefully. be sure not to move. stay tense. stay firm. stay solid. stay together.

now step up. chin up. stay graceful. stay silent. now move. slowly now...

and freeze. steady....

get up. stand up. brush yourself off. look around.be sure to smile!

nobody is paying attention.

sigh. lay down. start over again.

and again.

and again.

and again.



otto.

Let's go Fly a Kite

The darkness
that is your soul
consumes
my innocence.
The mirror holds a stranger captive.
I break the glass to set her free.
So that she may hear the song of an angel,
May take in the rainbow,
And inhale what is love.
Alas,
Bad luck has taken my fate.
Please keep your creativity-stifling,
teeth-grinding,
fist-clenching,
heart-wrenching,
version of love
to yourself.
I think I'll fly a kite, instead.

sunshine89

The Grotto

Welcome to our Grotto.
Here, we weave a web of tales.
A web sewn together stitch by stitch with particles left behind in the remnants of our distant thoughts.
This web we sew grows larger each day, and when the sun rises the early morning dew finds a way to surround our web with the most beautiful shimmering lights, that flicker with dastardly movement.

The dew then falls from the web down to the earth, where is settles into the soft grains of the soils that surround it.

drip.

drip.

drip.

the sound echos throughout the grotto. The dew the begins to spatter the walls and the earth so marvelously and with such chaos that it begins to wake the birds that roost in the oak trees by the lake. The birds hear the grotto's call, and instantly flock to it's mouth.


One

by
 
One

they feed the cave. Each placing a grain to the side of the grotto.


...

this is the moment where the magic begins. 

Suddenly, the grotto comes alive, and swallows each and every grain placed before it. 

The grains then fall

...Down, into the Grotto. 

where they place root beneath the soil surrounding them. The grains are then made fertile by the dew that has been formed on the web of tales we weave, and slowly grow to take the form of many

sweet, 

savory,   

onions. 

  
We then eat this onions together. tasting it's juices carefully as to not miss any of it's rich essence.
This is the product of our labor. We have worked to produce a beautiful, living thing, and it will hopefully one day bring joy to others. However, a garden needs gardeners my friends. Let us continue to weave our ever expanding web until each of us has exhausted their source. 

Which, in my opinion, is impossible.



Simba. 

1. So When I was 18

1.

So when I was 18 

I didn't really care too much for how my lifestyle

affected others. I was more preoccupied in the 

moment in front of me,

than any moments that 

might lay behind me 

or even before me.

 
   That being said I was 18, beautiful, 

and ready to face anything

that came across my path.
Take "Melody" for example. <-- intent motherfucker
At 18, who wouldn't want
A blonde haired blue eyed vixen
with 36 DD's and a
tight ass to boot knockin
at your doorstep??

2.

     So I answered.
Now it turns out that
my prayer in the dark
Godsend of a woman also
happened to be a
cheerleader @ the university I was attending...
and happened to like
the "candy" I was
pushin... being cocaine.

    So when push came
to nose and lines
were drawn, me and
Melody were having a
great time in MY
dorm room. An eight
ball between us
myself and "Melody"
decided to take a
shower...

 3.

    Now here is where
I pause in my "diabotchtranical" <----- What the hell did I invent??
rant of fantasies to tell
you how exactly a
suite room @ Reese
Hall works: Each "suite"
consists of two separate
bedrooms with two seperate
beds (for men total). The four
Gentlemen would both share a "toilet" and a"glass-enclosed" shower,
which were both located inside the foyer of    <--------------------(Not quite sure spelled correctly)
our "suite".

4.

    The particular movement
I shall being into the
light, occured in the
cool of an autumn morning.
The sun was just coming
up and "Melody" was
humming "Rocky Top"
with my throbbing
cock stuffed into her
fiendish mouth. When
we decided to take a
shower. I had no idea
what events would
infer.

SEE PAGE 831

5.

as I watched the
last line of coke
go up her nose I knew what was about
to happen... Nothin like a
cheerleader doin a line
off your dick to make
you burst with school
pride.

    Once our fire hit
the shower there was
no stopping our passion.
hard pants and loud
screams were only a
beginning. the words
"Oh my God [Here is where I'd add a name],
sex is soooooooo much better
on coke!!!!"

SEE PAGE 831

6.

...As I hear our main door open...

      I think nothing of
it at first. I finish my
dastardly feed and I <-------------Here is where I ran out of lead from pressing to hard!!

wander aimlessly naked

behind my 'lover" (if you

can call her that) into my

bedroom. (WOOOW!!! SOOOOO FUCKED UP :O)

      My "suitemate" barged

through my door with SUCH force....

It would have made a fault line tremble!!

    

      "Hey." I say non-chalantly. <-------spelling?

"Enter name of choice , did you

ever stop to think that today

is "Parents Day" on campus

and that, maybe, mine

and "EVAN'S" Parents

might be coming down 

from CINCINATTI, OHIO

TO SEE US THIS 

VERY DAY?!?!?!" , "Mike" said.

SEE PAGE 831

7.

...First of all the

thought never occured to

me. I mean why would

it?? Im with a girl

way out of my league

but not out of my means.

why would I waste time

worrying about parents??

SEE PAGE

8.31

But the truth is it

was "parents weekend"

@ UT and I 

did fuck up royally... maybe a lil'

more than royally.......

Like the parents my

suitemate "Mike" was

speaking of were REAL

and REALLY THERE

In           OUR SUITE!!!

9.

 

You might think at

this point that the

reality of what had 

occured would sink

into my my brain so

swiftly that soberity <------- Swear to Christ I need a dictionary!!!!

then becomes my voice

of reason, but no.

    My action, however,

swift it may have

been, was not the voice

of "soberaty"<---------------------[see above B.S.]

It was 

the voice of an ignorant, arrogant

asshole who stood in the shadows of where a

human, and concious 

thinking man once stood.

and so the story progresses...

SEE PAGE 831

10.

...progresses into my 

"Suitemates" bedroom 

where I have since 

put on my clothes, but 

am still dripping wet from

the head down as a result of

the shower (still worth it =D)

   But a real man never shows shame. I walked up to both parents... introduced myself...and said..."so college right??"

                                                                 LOL

Coyote Scraps Aren't Just for the Birds