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Fucked Up College Kids Poetry 005
F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S
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- t h e p o e t r y v e n t u r e -
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sometimes it is very hard to be objective as an editor.
to read something and disagree with it, only to think
that one should be fair on submissions. or do i say
"my zine" and judge based on what i like?
this release finds me making that decision. those who know
me will read through and quickly understand why i say
these words. let it be known, that i am trying to be
fair and just. for now...
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the devil herself
i am not a manic-depressive
or a diabetic
or cancerous, hell
i don't even get colds much
maybe i'm lucky
maybe it's because i don't
lick my fingers before counting my money
so
once upon a time there was this bitch, right?
and she was raped once or twice
and she thought she knew exactly what was wrong with everything
and she thought she knew the solutions to everything
and she decided, snatch-loose and meat-drunk,
to write some songs about it
and all the girls related to her
and all the girls cried for her
and all the girls made mix-tapes of her
and gave them to their shallow boyfriends
and she called herself tori amos
but all the boys knew she was really the fucking devil
or else why would she whine and bitch
about jesus all the time?
she's not a manic depressive
or a diabetic
or cancerous, hell
she pretends she's been there
maybe she could
stop telling everybody about it
like any good patient would
styx - the fedz@rad.edu
the day feel upon me with heat
the smell of sweat filled my lungs
the bright light bounced off every window only to reflect into my eyes
the streets were busy with people walking about
the cars had horns that barked the world aloud
i began to go mad
this is torture in itself
this is why i long for winter to fill my heart
this is why i give all my attention to the kindness of the night
this is why i wait for all the people to fade away
this is the time worth dying over
i began to go mad
and so i drank the dark
and i felt the cold of madness fill my mind
and i became hard as my blood began to freeze like water
and the world began to fade away
and my life turned to joy
so i toasted, and then drank another
rage
mishappinessery
i feel your love
but it's not love
it's hate
i feel your love
but it's not love
it's fists
i've seen your love
for i have the blackeyes
to prove it
i've known your love
the damned baby
within me
proves it
abused and broken love
beatings unspoken of
you say
i love you too
fuck you
lohateve
Nightshade
samurai
dull flicker, the room dances with life;
whisper of trance pours from the speakers
bowing head, warrior prepares for strife
so much time crashes by;
its the longest minutes of his life
and his duty begs him to cry
as he wishes he was dead
silent warrior kneels among the bodies
while the field runs red
dis
bbang
they all whisper goodbye,
inconstancy eternal
a soft wave - a star blinking
out in an inner universe
(the thread breaks)
and the nothingness is
greater than the pre-time
void known only as
The Beginning
suddenly, a personal piece is
vacant
unnatural, a missing
hand on a tick-tock,
leaving a winter bleak
soul behind to nurse
its wounds, and arm
itself for the next battle
demonika
A Cry
A Cry ...
In the dark,
For the secrets that are still yet to be revealed.
For the loses of the past.
In the daylight,
only this heart may shine,
for the nights hold the shadows of the past,
too close at hand.
Shimmering moonlight,
tears roll down,
as I reach for no one that is there.
Having lost, what I once had,
and counted on,
only because, I trusted ...
A Cry ...
will not be heard,
for those that have betrayed ...
Nor, will A Cry be felt,
for the loss of this one.
Kamira
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E D I T O R S: jericho@dim.com & demonika@dim.com
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A V A I L A B I L I T Y:
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WWW: http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho
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(c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author.
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F O U N D E D: October 30, 1997
