You arrive home to a crumbling doorstep and an open door into the laundry where the cats jump two metres high.
And then you stub your toe on the carpet of the steps as you wander up to the kitchen and watch the snow falling inside.
You rub your fingers around on the snow until your fingertips turn black.
And you slip and slide around and you soap up the floor to slip even more.
And then someone comes in through the door and it's not a human but a tiger.
So you have to run and hide but you don't want a cupboard because it's a dead end
So you slip around the other way through the lounge and stub your toe on the stairs some more
And then you pul
Invincible is what I am until something goes wrong.
I broke my leg while walking, is there anything more dumb?
They didn't call an ambulance, they only called a hearse.
You see my skin is pale, that's why they call me the dead kid.
Any excuse to bury me in a damp and wormy grave.
The surface of the Earth was fun and all,
But luckily it's an afterlife of debauchery in hell I truly crave.
Every mistake that I could make was another kick
To send this hermit deeper into his shell.
Like vines I grew 'til I no longer knew
Whether my roots still savoured ground.
What do they call it when you reminisce
About post-traumatic stress?
Meanwh
Psychopathic Influence by PlanetBloopy, literature
Literature
Psychopathic Influence
Before you kill yourself today,
Stop to think:
Why'd you want to do it anyway?
Don't put that gun to your head.
It's much more fun killing someone else instead!
I rise up from a bubbling abyss
To take control of a mind that nobody will miss.
Doctors prescribe chlorpromazine
When what's really needed is an exorcism.
C'mon caress that knife, wouldn't it be a surprise
If it was an early birthday present for your wife?
You sit in your parlour on a pension,
Safe from us creeps thanks to electric fencing
Surrounding the compound where they keep
The mad ones with whom I sleep.
Lock and load that gun, I'll tell you how to have fun,
Splatter some
A rustle.
A rumble.
Rolling hills tumble.
Flat blocks triumphant.
Life interspersed
Between intersections,
Highway connections,
Robotic inventions.
Forming foundations,
Shadows ascending,
Unholy creations,
City unending.
Species producing patterns,
Predetermined actions.
Cookie-cut jobs dispatching,
Deserters receive infractions.
Pollution of the senses,
Most selfish of intentions.
Leaders among the unlikely
Used and discarded nightly.
Man and expensive machine together,
Begrudging servants to each other.
Wisdom replaced by idiosyncrasies,
Diplomas in how to purchase groceries.
Rows of shops in groups of seven, pushing
Despite the tales of creatures unknown,
I spent the night alone
In a haunted house out on a prairie.
And in the dead gloom of dusk,
Dare I say I saw a fairy.
When you've seen something new,
It's too late to undo
The gasp at the tip of your tongue.
Dressed in black,
Don't try to turn back,
She told me not to worry.
And to my surprise,
In her uranium eyes,
I saw a hint of desire.
There is something sweet
Where forked roads meet,
That a weather girl can't describe.
I stood for a time
Under a radioactive spell,
Then plummeted into cosmological implosion.
In the blink of an eye,
Lonely ground and foggy sky.
The rain came down
Scab Made Out Of Faeces by PlanetBloopy, literature
Literature
Scab Made Out Of Faeces
Let me tell you about
This week's casserole.
It really fills that hole.
Oh but the taste
Is like human waste and I
Wish I'd never been born at all.
Let me tell you about
My relationship with Nicole.
I really fill her hole.
Oh but her face
Is like something else and so
When I bring a condom
I pack a paper bag as well.
A scab made out of faeces
Can really stop the bleeding.
Oh but the smell
Is a kind of rotting hell and you
Wish you'd never thought of the idea at all.
Let me tell you about
This week's casserole.
It's like a scab made out of faeces.
Scab made out of faeces.
It really fills that hole.
Oh but the taste
Is l
Planet Earth will never last forever, and fighting is futile so why even bother? Tolerate your brother, live as one and prosper together into the future beyond the death of the sun.
Humans are a dying species, outnumbered by living dead zombies. Caught in the tangle of a concrete jungle, the hustle and bustle of a constant jumble. I survived the delusion, and in the confusion I escaped, but souls met their conclusion as they were raped.
People are puppets of production, mechanism moving, manufactured illusion. In a world of corporation, corruption, conspiracy, feelings of anger build up inside of me. Boiling blood, poison ivy to the mind, n
Chronic Halloween Syndrome by PlanetBloopy, literature
Literature
Chronic Halloween Syndrome
Twenty-four seven, three-sixty-five.
I look in the mirror, and I see horror.
What the creator gave me makes me hoot
'Cause my Halloween costume is my birthday suit.
No make up, no fangs, no white sheets.
Every day I'm ready to go out on the street.
The boys they run whenever I am near.
The girls they scream in squeamish fear.
Witches, gremlins, splatter guts and gore.
Burnings at the cross and chambers of torture for dirty little whores.
Chainsaw massacres and voodoo dolls raise a hair,
But nothing can beat
The scare when I yell trick or treat!
Abominable cannibals, severed heads and toes.
Man-eating monkeys and circus freak sho