In-fuck-ted

There is a hole in my head

But I'm not dead

Just a zombie, alive

Somehow I've survived

Of course there is love

The push turned to shove

If there is anything I miss

It's the kiss

The voices in my head giggle

They know something that I don't

Really don't know wtf that is

Don't wanna find out either

I have added another poem to the horde

They will soon come for you and kill you

I will write some rhymes in your obituary

Maybe yes, maybe not

A Poem of Saying No.

No

I'm not listening anymore

To what the world has to say

I have middle fingers stuck in my ears

No

I won't even see you talk

The things that you want to tell me

They are useless

No

I will not speak to you

There is nothing left to be spoken

All we had once, is broken

No

I am not me anymore

Cuz I wasn't me to begin with

Yes, I am sure

---===----

You have to say No sometime. That time is when you put your foot down and say fuck it I'm not taking this bullshit anymore.

Yeah.

Poem of Monotony:: Spin The Vicious Cycle

Again

The same shit

But they day is different

A different texture

And smell

Again

The same anger

Useless frustration

Will not move me

Laziness has seeped in my pores

Again

The same mistakes

Fucked as fucked can be

When will we learn

To be unhappy in misery

Again

More words down on paper

This will lead to nothing

Why do I do these things

Fuck everything

Again

The same shit

But they day is different

A different texture

And smell

Confused Confessions :: A Poem about Madness

I have carved runes in my skin

I have sinned more than sin

I have drank the dark of the night

I have lost and won love in a fight

My world is scattered around me

All day I'm looking through the debris

Searching for something I will not find

Because I know I left it far behind

The innocence and the purity are gone

In darkness I'm sitting all alone

In company of a grin on my face

If I fuck up, I won't leave a trace

Please don't look at me like this

Come here, give me a kiss

I'm not a bad man, just misunderstood

I'm worse than me, isn't that good?

The Cycle Of Screams : A Poem

The circle spins

A cycle of pain

It spins and spins

As we grow insane

There are monkeys on wires

Everything is Electric

Souls poked with desires

Doesn't it make you sick?

The screams are so lovely at times

They shake the sky and stars blur

I wonder what are our crimes

That make us live and suffer

A scream is tattooed on my skin

Each days its buried deep within

I scratch the wound and bleed like fuck

Life and death are fate and luck

Chainsawed in a Million Pieces

I got a chainsaw
And a score to settle
I'm gonna shove up your jaw
All this fucking metal

You show me teeth
Well I got teeth too
And these are made of steel
Now they wanna kiss you

I sure can't hear you scream
All I hear is the whrinn whrinn
Wake up this is not a dream
You will die and I will win!

Motherfucker!
============
Man, do I love writing angry shit.

Last Tank On Planet Earth -

A Poem of Monkeys and Tankman

The green has taken over the planet
Monkeys frolic and bounce in the trees
Man had invited this fate
And the end of human species

But there is only one last hope
A man left in darkness to grope
Alone in a tank in middle of nowhere
Just ammo and a desire to be somewhere (else)

Does he fight to survive or for a higher purpose?
What strange voices make his head buzz?
Where does the new stock of ammo come from?
All this questions are unanswered in his head

So he sits in the last tank on planet earth
Waiting for the commands he has heard since his birth
The can of beer in his hand is still cold
The Tankman is 25 and he isn't getting old.

-=-=-=-=-
Ok, I am back with poems bubbling in my head. There are going to be more Monkey Poems and more Tankman Poems. Cuz someone here mentioned them. Yesh, MKan, I mean you :) thanks!

A Poem of Words

They slither through my fingers
Treacherous, friendly, they bite me
I push them in order in sentences
Angry, disgruntled they fight me

Some say its easy to write
They should feel a word's bite
The sting in a critical comment
It fucking mental torment
(But needed, much)

I have stared at empty screen for days
From January till many Mays
Till the words trickled like blood drops
Breathing red in my dying hopes

It has been a tough ride so far
I've been crawling without a car
I'm afraid now, standing at the crossroad
Am i strong enough to take a writer's load?