the spirit of god compells thee?

I had a bad night.
stopped to watch the cock fight
watched the males up on display
killing cock to gay dismay

   beware the munge.
my fathers son once said
it sneaks up with a silent dread
it touches you from deep within
my kin, my kin! begin begging!
leave it where it lies expunged
touch me now coz i'm the one
'ware the munge! 'ware the munge!!!

step on a crack and break your mothers back.
and touch your heart to make it start
to make your lovers lips part
to make her lower lips smart
you need a crack, a back attack
off the shelf, it won't go back!
I have the eye of Ra on my wrist.
it helps me tone and drag my fist
it helps to give the lower gist
to the fascist poverty classes
who insist on contacts, but wear glasses
as if feminism was a fashion statement
thick black glasses and heads half shaven
and i wouldn't feel so wholesome
if. i. hadn't. found. alix olson.
made me feel that the time i'm killing
in the guise of the (singer) dylan
wasn't quite wasted after all...

and a dead place in my head.
leads my heart down lies instead
lies me where i lead my dread
like a pillow for my head
the food that keeps my depression fed
  makes me want to eat my fill
  poetry from devoted zil
  if there was a place i'd kill
it's that spot with all the noise
all the heartache-broken toys
all the men transformed to boys
fear and rage and ignorance caged
like these terrorist wars you stage
  and this might have started as a game
  but homo means we're all the same.

I had a bad night.
stopped to watch the cock fight
watched the males up on display
killing cock to gay dismay

bastards one and all

conspiritors to make me fall

heart is sick with sadness

for all they make my troubled madness

�� beware the munge.
my fathers son once said
it sneaks up with a silent dread
it touches you from deep within
my kin, my kin! begin begging!
leave it where it lies expunged
touch me now coz i'm the one
'ware the munge! 'ware the munge!

munge, the stinking goo undertheath

where things lay forgotten, rotten, forseath

perminent this grunge

no possibility to expunge

step on a crack and break your mothers back.
and touch your heart to make it start
to make your lovers lips part
to make her lower lips smart
you need a crack, a back attack
off the shelf, it won't go back!

would I step on the crack?

would I break my mothers back?

sweet mother that gave me birth,

why did you let him make me hurt?

would I do this? to not be touched?

I don't want my heart to start,

but what has started canot be thwarted

and what has formed cannot be unlearned

and a dead place in my head.
leads my heart down lies instead
lies me where i lead my dread
like a pillow for my head
the food that keeps my depression fed
� makes me want to eat my fill
� poetry from devoted zil
� if there was a place i'd kill
it's that spot with all the noise
all the heartache-broken toys
all the men transformed to boys
fear and rage and ignorance caged
like these terrorist wars you stage
� and this might have started as a game
� but homo means we're all the same.

dread, pillow for my head

lover in my bed

sweet comfort but with twisted hate

twisted me, contorted you

I have no reasons for what I do

poets game, secrets fame

darkness, from where you came

go back, I never want to be the same.

hee, mike, fun this muchly is.

oooh! i loves it! :)

just so you're pre-warned, i'm totally planning on hacking into this again once i'm not at work :)

*excited dance*

I had a bad night.
stopped to watch the cock fight
watched the males up on display
killing cock to gay dismay
bastids, one and all
conspirators, to make me fall
liars, to make me real
souless, to make me feel

and my heart is sick with sadness
for all they make my troubled madness

beware the munge.
my fathers son once said
it sneaks up with a silent dread
it touches you from deep within
my kin, my kin! begin begging!
leave it where it lies expunged
*touch me now coz i'm the one*

munge, the stinking goo below
where things lay forgotten, rotten, no...
i don't think so, i've lost this munge
mired permanent in this grunge
no possibility to expunge
this hate, this pain, my eyes... the same
my heart, my soul... one long dark hole
i'm terrified before the night
i'm frantic before morning light
i'm puking as i leave the door
and still the munge lies on the floor

step on a crack and break moms back.
  and touch your heart to make it start
  to make your lovers lips part
  to make her lower lips smart
off the shelf, it won't go back!
would I step up on the crack?
would I break my mothers back?
sweet mother that gave me birth,
how could you let him make me hurt?
would I do this? to not be touched?
should i live? i guess i must...
I don't want my heart to start,
i can't make the dreams depart
i can't make the darkness go
my heart has fallen far too low

but what has started cannot be thwarted...
and what your tomb womb formed is now de-formed...
and the lies i've learned cannot be unlearned...

a dead place in my head.
leads my heart down lies instead
lies me where i lead my dread
like a pillow for my head
the food that keeps my depression fed
  makes me want to eat my fill
  poetry from devoted zil
  and if there was a place i'd kill
it's that spot with all the noise
all the heartache-broken toys
all the men transformed to boys
fear and rage and ignorance caged
like these terrorist wars you stage
  and this might have started as a game
  but homo means we're all the same.

dread, you're a pillow for my head
you're a lover in my bed
sweet comfort but with twisted hate

i have no reasons for what I do
i have no lies to leave for you
poets game, secrets fame
darkness, from where you came
go back, I never want to be the same
i can't stand to bear this pain
alone

---
i wasn't initially planning on it but i reworded a couple lines, moved some stuff up, moved some stuff down, seperated some stanzas out, etc, etc. let me know what you think, feel free to post another response if you wish. i'm totally thrilled with how this is working out :) you fecking rule zil :)))

dude, i LOVE it.

um, dude, how is it that I rule? when its th both of us who are doing it? I say we both rule. heh I usually don't put down my writing like this, I don't usually write poems at all, but I like this a lot. hee!

I want to respond, but it seems like too much work right now for a zil who is feeling drugged and sleepy. :-)