I know nothing
I know nothing nor do I want to: a blank brain is all I want! I have nothing nor do I want to: I want to be, nothing else do I want!
I know nothing nor do I want to: a blank brain is all I want! I have nothing nor do I want to: I want to be, nothing else do I want!
Old legends what spoke of the fae Said “cold iron must be used in the fray” Bore great axe ‘gainst brownie The first chord made it flee ‘Twas Heavy Metal what had won this day
In Feudal Japan
Kaze no Tsuyoi Nioi
Tea Party Ninja
Assassin of Joy
Bringer of His Mighty Wind
Most Fetid of Stench
For a Tidy Fee
Kaze no Tsuyoi Nioi
Would Disturb Your Foes
Piercing Defenses
Buddha Alone Knew His Tread
In and Out, Unseen
But Never Un-Smelt
Kaze no Tsuyoi Nioi
Bearing Bowels Most Foul
“Haiku number 6, Alright, let’s get into it. Shit – I’m out of room.” edit: This is so not what I expected from the comments, and I'm very pleased with it. Have fun folks!
This isn’t what I want it to be. I’ve just had too many to care.
Most days I don’t need any to not care.
Yet I smile at them; servers and baristas.
Try hard, smile, look happy.
Maybe they’ll think you’re cute.
You arrogant shit.
“Sisyphus!
Arrogant twat,
How shall you pay
For the sins you’ve wrought?
I’ll hang your dreams
In delicate swathe
And leave you to work
Forever for naught.
.
Sisyphus!
You “god” among men
I’ll number your days
Count them by hand
While you work, serve
Slave to my end
Your bones will strain
And bend.
.
Sisyphus!
You represent
The whole that is wrong
With the common man
I’ll make you sweat,
And I’ll make you beg
(That) one day you’ll be free
Again!”
.
Dear Sisyphus,
I know your soul.
Your struggle is mine
And we share the goal
That work, work, will come
To an end
And we’ll live again
As free men.
.
Sisyphus,
I hear your cries –
Your yelps of pain
In the dead of night
When your muscles strain
And your mind ain’t right
My brother
Your pain is mine!
.
Gods above –!
Rescue me!
.
Sisyphus!
I’m you, incarnate.
I do my work and
Sing my songs in
Hope the gods will
Hear my plea
And one day
set me free.
.
I am he!
I aloud decree,
assuming Sisyphus’
identity.
I live his plight,
beg myself free
that I’ll find a
love for me.
.
SISYPHUS.
THIS IS YOUR WROUGHT.
YOUR MERIT THE PAIN,
THIS DAY YOU’VE SOUGHT.
YOU KNOW YOUR SINS
AND NOW YOU BEG
THAT YOU MAY FRESH BEGIN
.
THE GODS WILL REMEMBER
SINS IN DECEMBER;
DRAG YOUR SOUL DOWN
DEEP TO THE EMBER.
YOU AS THE KINDLE
YOU AND YOUR KINFOLK
FOREVER LIGHT OUR WAY.
.
SISYPHUS.
“IMMACULATE.”
WHAT A SHAME YOU’LL FIND
COME END YOUR FATE
WHEN THE TRUTH REVEALS
YOUR LOVE IS FAKE.
are you so thirsty
you would drink your own blood?
do you feel so dirty
that you bathe in wet mud?
are you so alone
that you make talk with yourself?
are you so afraid
that you, your own friends, repel?
.
would you clean your skin with acid
just to feel pure within your casket?
would you feed on rot and mold
in attempt to feed your soul?
are you so cold, your blankets worn,
you'd set your home ablaze for warmth?
do you so fear the words you'll hear
you'll drive metal spears into your ears?
.
are you so broken
and without any help
you would crack your own skull
and find some gold to smelt
in hopes you leave your corpse
a void kintsugi shell?
if not; then why, dear brain,
do you want to burn yourself
Apologies for the spam. This may be the last one today; worst-case there's only one more coming.
I see you, pretty home,
with your couch, your floor, and kitchen.
I see your sign there, hoping
that I might call and visit.
I want to tour your space
and dream of how I'd fill it.
What chair, what bed, what rug,
and if it could home a kitten.
.
I can see a career
that let's me furnish you to 9.
I faintly feel a hope
that one day you might be mine.
I teeter on a plan
that I could start, if energized
that would lead me to you
if I could try, and all went right.
.
A fireplace in cold,
you'd stay lit, always, in orange.
the warmest of colors
keeps my mind free of contortion.
Your firm, solid structure
Keeps me confident, supported.
What a beautiful dream;
I hope, one day, to afford it.
Pins and needles in my left leg. As I minimally move they acute and grave. I sleep, I shall wake up; what will it have been: a circumflex, or an umlaut?
Is it self-inflating to label one's own work as graphic? (It is kinda graphic, clickbait title aside.)
This doesn't even really capture the right imagery I was trying to go for.
Might just have to re-write this idea into a completely different piece, I'm not sure. (mfw literally "felt creative idk might delete later")
The "ball" was supposed to really be a watermelon, because we've all seen that YouTube video where they explode a watermelon with rubber bands, but I didn't leave myself enough space to develop that transition from ball to melon properly. (Brand new sentence?)
Why am I even posting this if I feel its unfinished?
Who knows.
Anyway let's get to the thing here it is vvvvvvvvv
slip.
twist.
smack.
10 rubber bands on a ball
all hold each other taut
the inception of a toy
that will quick be left for naught
but brings a momentary joy - its only cause.
.
work.
stoa.
sweat.
hustle on, man, that's your call
you gotta love your boss.
it's the struggle of a boy.
that you never would be caught
while feeling tears or overwhelm - lest you be mocked.
.
smack.
stretch.
strain.
100 rubber bands slap
starting slightly straining
its appearances are coy,
the ball slowly rolls to stop.
picked up and bounced against the floor - it doesn't pop.
.
work.
stare.
grind.
expectations are my all.
you dream of taking off -
escape makes you overjoyed
daily grind just puts your off.
your brain it strains against the skull - stressing nonstop.
.
pop
waste
spill
500 rubber bands smack
crushing and constraining
such a carnage to enjoy
they start rolling out the mops.
the ball explodes onto the floor - as if a prop
.
rip
slice
tear.
my fists crash into the walls.
my skin, just rip it off
rip out the bone, leave me void
naked muscle growing moss.
wrap rubber bands around my head until it pops.
You know they’ve got poetry on Spotify? That’s some cool shit. Ended up following John Cooper Clarke into a rabbit hole of other British poets.
Decided to bite and try writing a bit of poetry for poetry’s sake.
Anyway. ‘Ere go. “June.”
I thought your voice was music
And your beauty - work of art.
I found your jokes amusing,
Ponygirl, a golden heart.
Your company, a journey
Which I never could depart
I really felt I loved you,
Well, I did once, at the start.
.
See, music can be different
Some songs good, and others crap.
Some begin melodically,
Then get crashing in a snap.
Starting subtle violins,
Then it blares with metal scrap
They lure you malevolent
Some music is a trap.
.
Some artists Donatello,
Others Jackson Pollock.
Some art goes well with wine,
Some turns you alcoholic.
Some is deep and intricate,
Some is purely bollocks
Can’t call this a masterpiece
I’m not sure what to call it.
.
Thought your lips were pure cuisine
And your beauty - work of art.
I never thought the kitchen
Would have mold and rot at heart.
The oven sent asunder
All the counters ripped apart
You’re a diner with one dish,
And it’s a dry and sour tart.
Light it up
hit the stage
hit the dance floor.
Fight enough
start a riot
there's a chance for
love to grow
for the hate
to transform
Feeling these
knots in my head
am I deformed?
.
Feel like my
head, my heart,
a rock show.
Is this peace
or pain, I
do not know.
I can't close
my eyes and
the clock's slow
Pray I'll
kill myself
in Chicago
.
My head pounds
bass drum
memories of,
days when you
and I meshed
and we made love.
Wish that I
went and bought you
all your makeup.
Maybe some money's
all we needed
to makeup
.
Feel like my
head, my heart,
a rock show.
Is this peace
or pain, I
do not know.
I can't close
my eyes and
the clock's slow
Pray I'll
kill myself
in Chicago
.
With hate your
voice went shrill
you went cold.
Who's this girl
beside me
don't know.
Wake up in
the morning pain
or comfort?
All your screaming
I wanna go
Van Gogh
.
Feel like my
head, my heart,
a rock show.
Is this peace
or pain, I
do not know.
I can't close
my eyes and
the clock's slow
Pray I'll
kill myself
in Chicago
Father God
I've got a favor
to ask of you.
.
It is said
you can justify
the hell I knew.
.
So now I raise
my tired eyes
to the morning blue.
.
God above,
I've got a favor
to ask of you.
.
If I don't wake up
dead in the morning
could you stand by me
if just for a moment
give pause to the pain
put a break to the moaning
while I'm stuck in this mind
and I just can't control it.
.
If you're gonna drag me out
of my bed in the morning
then I ask I wake in
a place I feel at home and
I can pour a little brown, light
a green, and get to hoping
that I'll find good work,
good love, and consoling.
.
Ya Allah
Ana mish aerif
Ana riyeh feyn.
.
My head
is clouded, dark
and the sky is grey.
.
I've found
I hate the sun,
and dance in the rain.
.
And at night,
I close my eyes,
dream of the grave.
.
If you're gonna drag me out
of my bed in the morning
then I ask I wake in
a place I feel at home and
I can pour a little brown, light
a green, and get to hoping
that I'll find good work,
good love, and consoling.
raindropon the tongue
of the parched, de-
flated beach ball
in the hands of the young, lit
cig 'tween the fingers
of a nun,
one sin's never gonna be enough
fuck the prose
words will never be enough.
the writing's on the walls
but you can't read it
you aren't here
i need a sign you
can't ignore or a call
you're bound to hear
.
the words just aren't enough
on their own
to pull my heart strings
i can't find peace
without my blood
on guitar strings.
.
the words are going cold
the poetry has not a heartbeat.
i need to take the stage
and pray to god that they can't see me.
Not sure why I always feel the need to preface these with something.
Feels weird not to. As if I'm just "Hey chump, here's a poem, read it."
Y'all hear that Lil Nas X track "Old Town Road" yet? Never knew I needed to hear Billy Ray Cyrus on a trap beat until it happened.
If that blends your smoothie, you might also like "Like A Farmer" x Lil Tracy ft. Lil Uzi Vert
I like this whole hickhop wave coming through. Cool to see people playing around with genre-bending.
For all those "that's not real country" folk, here's some Cody Jinks and some Brown Bird (technically blues I think, fight me.)
Anyway, here's the thing. Feel free to read it. If anyone here uses one of those e-reader speech things for the vision-impaired, how does this sound? Does the reader have any rhythm to it, or does it just feed you line after line?
Alright closing out for real. Later.
I thought something strangeskeleton felt out the closet
In the house, the paint
kept peeling off the walls
and on the bed, decay
as the wood went rotten
Never could build a house,
made a life making coffins.
.
In the morn, I wake
and the skies are grey and cloudy
Turn to kiss my babe,
is it love me or get off me
and my head, it aches
the anxiety is starting
so I say fuck it all and I make me some coffee.
.
Lips on me -
desire.
Arsonist
with a lighter.
Feed my soul,
make the heart burn.
Where there's smoke
there is fire.
.
An infant strand-
ed out there in the snow
Sh'said "Babe there's a chill,
you'd better close the door."
Close your rain-
bow, there's no pot of gold.
And there's no one to sing
you any songs of your home.
.
Fill my art-
eries with bourbon old
Loverboy
til I am dead and gone
Rip off my skin
and leave my body cold
My son,
the devil
is a pretty blonde.
.
And I said
Mama
I’m tired.
My hands shake
My eyes burn.
Hair’s thin
Heart afire.
My lovely little lover was a liar.
.
Closed the door,
the hinge broke.
No chimney
house filled smoke.
Scents arose
of burnt mold.
A lake of blood and
guilt can't support a home.
Hi everyone.
Hello to all the new faces who don't know my name - (or how out of character it is that there are capital letters in this post!) This isn't really for you - or for anyone in particular I guess; I just wanted to write something to those who have followed my work on here.
So, you.
Howdy.
It's been a minute.
I just wanted to give you all a quick update; let you know that I'm safe. I've had a few of you reach out to me since my last post. I hope I didn't scare anybody.
For those interested - things... aren't all that better now, hahaha. Sorry.
But the good news is, they're trending up in a really good way.
I've decided to stop drinking for awhile; I figured that isn't really helping my cause at this point. I'll pick that back up when there's something worth celebrating, when I'm in better company, and when I'm back in control of myself.
I've started getting a lot more interviews for work; shouldn't be long now until I have a position landed and I'm back to being a functioning adult.
And uh - I started therapy. Been about a month now. I like my therapist, they're very sweet, very weird in a fun/eclectic kind of way. (My kinda person.) And that's been going well.
In fact, that's part of this.
It's not just Tildes I abandoned.
I've let a lot of very important people to be fall to the wayside lately - total isolation. Tonight, I started calling them back, apologizing, letting them know what was going on. And that's gone well so far.
Now I'm here doing the same for you.
I don't know if I'll be back on Tildes all too frequently. There's a lot on here I might just need to let rest.
So I just wanted to say that I'm here. I love you. I'm sorry. And, bye.
For now.
eyes crackle openhalf past three
stomach on fire and
my body feels meek
i stumble out my chair
and here the creak in my knees
you're only in your twenties
and you're living ninety
.
my head feels funny
and i'm tired of the numbing
and there's too much week
at the end of my money
a little bumblebee lost
wishing for his honey
beat my head against the hive
until the world starts buzzing
and it falls.
.
and i
set
foot
down
on that unpaved road
step
forward like an orphan
on a search for a home
walk
forward hand to God
if he answers my call
honey (i'll) be
leaving for now
hope it won't be long
.
soul
full of gravel and
a heart made of gold
imma
face my music and
play my song
send
me down to hell
if it rights my wrongs
honeybee
i'm leaving for now
hope it won't be long.
#19 by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
So rent a museum
and see yourself in mirrors-
In every room an exposition
of a different phase in your life
with all your figures and faces
and pictures of all the people who
passed through you
and all the scenes
you passed through
all the landscapes of living
and longing and desiring
and spending and getting
and doing and dying
and sighing and laughing and crying
(what antic gesturing!)
And walking through the house of yourself
you climb again to all
the rooms of youself
full of the other lives & selves
who passed through them
Rooms rooms rooms
piled up haphazard
in the architecture of time
And all the bodies clinging to each other
or rushing to windows
to break out of the room
which they boxed themselves into
All the people of your life
in one house in the night
all lights lit
like a cruise ship at sea
And you run up and down
knocking on all the doors
through which you hear
all the once-familiar voices
laughing or sobbing or singing
And you run to the roof
and look up to the mute night sky
And in the wheeling template of stars
see the faces of the figures
of the lovely lovers who
had once made time stand still
now all fixed
in their constellated relations
motionless in time
So that
some day
as time bends around
to its beginning again
you find them all again
and yourself
hiiiiiii everybody guess who drunk for the first time this year ayeeeee
we're back
i love it
i hate it
i miss you
how damned lazy
is the poet
who only ever writes.
how wasted
is the painter
who drowns out his lines.
how atrophied
the pianist
who cannot bend the light
if this is art then it isn't mine.
.
a screw
driver is useless
when nails
are the nuisance
an easel
is pointless
with verbally
mindless rhymes.
.
to what length in an artist?
if you cannot wield
every edge of the
toolbox right?
.
not every thought
is at best
through emo
writings expressed
kid, sometimes
you have to
know your lines.
.
to better outline your problems.
(better outline your problems)
better sketch out your issues
(guarantee she don't miss you)
better sculpt out the tissue
and try to attend to
the shit you
can only rhyme.
.
what a waste of an artist.
.
what a waste of an artist.
.
you call your poems cathartic
but that's your only
medium, right?
.
you wanna be a God
you better step up
better learn to
do your makeup
hopefully you learn
to draw her thighs.
.
better off dead otherwise.
.
if you're not the greatest it's a guise.
ich lebe noch von dir
so if i won't be remembered
then by your God
i should prolly' die.
.
what the fuck is an artist.
.
wjo is reallt an aritst.
.
you call your poems cathartic,
but that's your only
medium - right?
God
put me at ease
deliver me to peace.
if you're above
deliver me to love.
there's not a sign
you're months without a call.
i begin to think
you never cared at all.
in winter breezes
hang me from the trees.
god i'm sick of
never feeling enough.
make me crease and
break me at my knees.
tarot prophet guide me
with your crystal ball.
.
read the names i've
written in my skin.
banish me to walk
alone in cold.
hit my face and tell me
this is it.
kill me, say you
never cared at all
.
screaming in your car
you said you'd call the cops
if i don't take my seatbelt off
on our way home and walk.
.
screaming in our home
you'd always slam the doors
and leave the silence ringing
in the halls
.
alone in dark i wailed
you didn't care.
as you sat there on your phone
and talked and talked.
.
always acting like
i wasn't there.
even asked me to pretend
that we were not.
.
remember back in college
when you made some friends
and tried to make me hide,
not show me off?
.
tried to tell them
i was just a friend.
and when i protested
god you told me off.
.
but when i made you mad
how mad you went.
and appeared inside my room
without consent.
.
i walked in and found you there
sat at my desk.
it should've ended there
but i regressed.
.
i said we would grow past it
never did.
always made me second guess
the life i live.
.
it's not my fault
that you stayed home alone.
why do i slash and cry and pray
that you'll pick up the phone.
.
tell me why i love you
when it's wrong.
.
.
.
tell me why i want you
when you're gone.
.
.
.
i want you to ignore me,
miss my calls.
.
.
.
if at least you'll speak
to me at all.
fuck you.
i'm sorry.
i love you.
fuck you.
fuck you too.
so i've just recently learned about this guy, and his work is quickly becoming a favorite of mine.
i'm admittedly crazy poorly-read (is that the antonym to well-read?) when it comes to...
well, anything besides self-help books released up to "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck" by Mark Manson.
and his work has been concise and just fucking accurate enough for me to enjoy.
so i present you all,
a journey through love, with Richard Brautigan.
Everybody wants to go to bedwith everybody else, they're
lined up for blocks, so I'll
go to bed with you. They won't
miss us.
in this first stage, we see that little Richie's met himself someone special, and off they go arm in arm to live happily ever after.
If you will die for me,I will die for you
and our graves will be like two lovers washing
their clothes together
in a laundromat
If you will bring the soap
I will bring the bleach.
and here we see something that, personally, i found surprising from a poet who got his start in the 50s.
this piece emulates the incendiary, passionate, limitless love that some of us have been lucky enough to experience in the early years of our lives. the love where it's the both of you against the world. the love where the most mundane tasks seem incredulous solely because they're done together. the love that i have only seemed to find in life, through trauma bonding.
their love is powerful. their love is radiant.
I feel horrible. She doesn'tlove me and I wander around
like a sewing machine
that's just finished sewing
a turd to a garbage can lid.
their love is over.
the crass yet poignant imagery somehow simultaneously flashing feelings of uselessness, self-loathing, and loss.
you are here.
A piece of green pepperfell
off the wooden salad bowl:
so what?
the sheer stoicism here is inspiring to me.
this is the mindset that i want - and don't have the emotional energy to cultivate.
were Brautigan still around and kickin' today, i'd buy the man a shot of the best whiskey i could get with $7 and thank him for emulating the exact mindset i want, need, and desire
in four lines.
it's simple - the green paper is a fraud, illusory. from afar or even from near with a quick glance - the green paper is another leafy green of the salad. a leaf of lettuce, a bit of cabbage. even if you press your face into the bowl and smell, the paper will smell of salad and nothing but.
it falls onto the floor, you pick it up to throw it away. you notice the texture inapropos with more roughness, and frailty than a leaf of a vegetable. you test it - you tear it.
it was paper.
it was not the spinach you'd desired.
it was not real.
it was not what you wanted.
regardless of the time you've spent preparing the salad, chopping your veg, blending your dressing, tossing it all, and fixing it for presentation,
if you throw this paper out - it will be no loss, and your salad will only be better for it.
a green piece of paper fell off the wooden salad bowl.
so what?
the piece that brought Brautigan in to my attention in the first place.
It's so niceto wake up in the morning
all alone
and not have to tell somebody
you love them
when you don't love them
any more.
resolve.
clarity.
peace.
the earlier bleach has gone unsipped. she has come, she has gone. he has suffered, he has grown.
and now, he is at peace.
his world back to...
normal.
this has been a journey through love with Richard Brautigan.
I'VE GOT
red wine
nicotine
fresh chocolate chip cookies
the plaid heated blanket that keeps me
cuddled up in the recliner that doubles
as my bed.
I'VE GOT
red wine
daydreams
moving to a different city with a different scene
i wanna meet new friends,
try codeine
find love or find drugs to console me
I'VE GOT
red wine
thin skin
pink like your soft cheeks when they're sunkissed.
haulover beach, you were naked
on a trip,
and you screamed, and you screamed, and i hate it.
I'VE GOT
red wine
ain't shit
except seven little boxes full of bullshit
old love notes kissed with red lips
seven boxes of evidence you didn't mean shit.
I'VE GOT
a lotta bit of lethargy
all my energy drained.
i remember the day where you looked at my eyes
and you said "babe since you met me you don't look the same"
you looked at the bags,
(beat.)
and you said "that was me"
(beat.)
and of course i dismissed it
said babe don't be silly
i envisioned us happy and said that "you make me complete."
I'VE GOT
red wine
white lies.
red wine.
red wine.
GOT.
red wine
no time.
it's time.
lifeline.
i dont even care to try and write this shit out. . just. . drain my blood. let me sleep, love
we met in a field
i plucked a fruit from your veins
you encouraged me to eat
i exchanged with you a name.
.
i kept you close inside a jar
and with time, you turned sour
you encouraged i add water
lest it be the final hour.
.
my glass turned pink
with the hue of your skin
you explained - it's drink,
you encouraged me to sip
.
i never knew beauty
like your taste upon my lips
you are my favorite poison
and i have now, not a drip.
hey this is tildes so i should talk about code.
i dont type each >
for the markdown individually.
got a tiny function i wrote that does it for me: https://repl.it/repls/HonoredRubberyProfessional
so there's that for anyone who wants an easier time formatting their thing.
stuff at the bottom. not necessarily inspo. just.
yeah
i just
want to go back
to normal.
normal like in 2016
when i had a little cash
and spent it all
on books, coffee, clothes, teenage shit
i was nineteen
we had yet to meet
back to normal
like the centuries
where i would never be
from the dawn of the earth
up to the nineties.
back to normal
back to friends
back to hobbies and dreams
back to having endless things
that i found exciting
back to normal
when i'd stay up a little late
and fall asleep, be up at 8
and make my coffee
not living in the night,
sleeping in the morning.
.
but the meds are all a hex,
cyanide with side effects
take this pill if you're depressed
now youre a narcoleptic wreck
and your car's a crumpled mess
so momma drives you to your check-
ups full of shit you never said
like how you wanna quit - dead.
because you say something she think
is wrong you end up in the shrink
with all the people with the bigger problems
thrashing as they shriek
and you wake up on a table
see the warden of the clink
shoving hands into your mouth
tryna feed you what they think
'll fix your fucking problems.
hooked - benzodiazepines.
and now you're mellow, now you're numb
for now your skin'll cease to bleed
and still you look around in envy
pretty people - normalcy.
.
i gotta get out this house
get back to normal
maybe she can't find me there.
maybe i can get a text
or get some coffee
breathe, not even care
'bout if i'll turn a cursed corner
see her curly golden hair,
and have a flashback to the nights
spend crying lonely in despair
as she would sit, a room away
sipping vodka in here chair
taking snaps and scrolling insta
for her modelling career
and i would wail my soul would bleed
praying that her heart would hear
and she would get up, come and hold me
stroke my hair like "mama's here."
and i could breathe
our love immortal
i want nothing but a world
where i am back in full control
through death or breath
just make me normal.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NB7RBZ1yGY
currently 7 hours into a 24 hour shift that will see me through to the end of this project.
this song came on that helped me find catharsis when i last felt like this in 2014.
coincidentally, i'd just finished one of my few milestones in the project
i could take a break if i wanted to.
i could hear the words filling themselves in, treating the song like a template.
decided i'd take a minute to "remix" or "cover" this song for how things are going this time around.
maybe give it a listen, then jump into this piece,
out of words now.
bishop
[Verse 1]
You still cross my mind from day to day
And I mostly cry
Still so set on finding out where we went wrong
and why
So I retrace our every step with a bloodwet knife
Trying to figure out what your head thinks
And my head just ain't what it used to be
So I ask,
...what's the point anyway?
[Verse 2]
I remember bringing boxes up the stairs to your apartment
Knowing love was slipping
rapidly away
I remember the skin of your forehead
Your nose and your lips I'd always kiss when I was out of things to say
You held my hand, and you would always promise me
You'd promise me pretty things but I would never understand
I remember when you said you didn't love me
And I swear not a single force on earth could stop the trembling of my hand
[Verse 3]
I remember how you smiled through the smoke in a crowded little coffeehouse
And laughed at all my jokes
And I remember the way that you dressed
While we wasted all the best of us in alcohol and sweat
And I remember when I knew that you'd be leaving
How I barely kept up breathing and I bet if I could to do it all again
I'd feel the same pain
I remember faded driving through the city in tears
How I wept to god in fits, I've hated Texas ever since
I've found it's true what people say
That death and drugs can numb the pain
And every single day I want to fade away, cus
[Verse 4]
I still remember independence tricked us
And lead us helpless holding cash into a pit to be devoured
I still remember how we held so strong to this
Though we had never really settled on a way out
I still remember your blank face
And how we'd always find a way recommit the same mistakes
I still dream that it would all come back together
Just to fall apart again
[Bridge]
My dear
I hear your voice in mine
I've been alone here
I've been alone here
I've been afraid, my dear
I've been afraid, my dear
I've been at home here
I've been at home here
You've been away for years
You've been away for years
I've been alone
I've been alone
I've been alone
I've been alone
[Verse 5]
I breathed your name into the air, I etched your name into me
I felt my anger swelling, vision black, I can't see
I held your name inside my heart but it got buried in my fear
It tore the wiring of my brain, I did my best to keep it clear
So dear, no matter how we part I hold you sweetly in my head
And if I do not miss a part of you, a part of me is dead
If I can't love you as a lover, I will love you in my death
Anything to see you smile, keep you happy in my end.
hi i'm bishop
and i'm the guy you probly see
inside your dreams
who shows up for half a second
then i morph into a sheep
no wait im bishop
im the guy who's in the back
of that one photo that you
took out by the beach in
2018 out in cabo
hold on, no, it's bishop
it's the person that you messaged
when you posted up on tumblr
needing help with your depression
i mean
no
wait
i'm bishop!
i mean
i'm 1930s jazz superstar Cab Calloway.
i don't really play many instruments
but i can sing
i'm a throat player
hi my name is bishop
and i'm actor Matthew Lillard
hah like zoinks babe, i was shaggy
let me take you out to dinner
but then she turned to me
all worriedly
i asked her "whats the problem b?"
she said "i'm not some pretty girl,
i'm bishop! i'm your coffee!"
and i looked around like what the hell
and down onto my bed i fell
the pillow was my face
i was the bottles on the shelf
hi there pal, my name is bishop!
wait i lied it's Captain Morgan!
don't you love the way i
can't walk straight in my own Jordans
(that were actually pretty expensive shoes, like who pays that much for shoes? i mean i get the aesthetic and all i have some jackets that were kinda expensive but like
...dude.)
(cough)
hi my name is bishop
but i'm really Roddy Piper
and i'm feelin hella Rowdy cus my
ex she made my life hurt
i mean wait
no
i'm Bert Kreischer!
i'm im a machine!
and i'm a funny guy!
i'm hella rich, i'll slide some money by
if you can sing me beddie-bye
no fuck
i'm Tyler Perry
i make really funny movies
and i think you'd probly like me
if you ever really knew me
i mean
im bishop
and i eat a lot of fruit
but i still cant seem to get rid
of my stomach
i've considered "fasting" before and i used to but i like to cook too much so i end up like not eating for a day and then cooking a lot (like a lot) and really enjoying that meal and the whole process but it kinda nullifies the whole thing.
i'm gordon ramsay.
i'm
im chef Joel Robuchon and i have hella Michelin Stars
and my heart burns
i mean fuck i ate too much i'm
im'm larry the cable guy, do you have heartburn? i could
*sigh* sell you
Prilosec
i'm bishop
i'm
....
anyone but me.
cheers
y'already know who it is
bishop - little punk bitch.
's go. no need to comment or whatever. just yelling at the internet today.
Xes On My Eyes For Life.
tw: self-harm/suicide/alcohol/drugs
startin off the year all
alone inside my bedroom
lookin back in the past
what i been through
how you'd pet my hair,
cuddle close in my bedroom
now ain't nothin but depressive
air in the bedroom
look what i get up to
xans and the mushrooms
body don't have much room
left for me to love you
it pushes all the air out
in case you maybe come thru
you took all of my breath out
and i can't even speak youname into the air
with no fingers in my hair
sippin whiskey in my chair
i can see your shadows here
you told me "lay it bare, give
your heart and boy i swear"
from now until the day you die
i promise i'll be there."now i'm broken down
and wearing out
your voice in my head
get it out
i'm gettin up and pullin down
the liquor off the shelf
my empty bed is
screaming out
i'm praying that you'll
hear me while
i'm masturbating moaning out
"I'm gonna kill myself."Прости меня,
Пожалуйста
now is my time
убей меня
princess - зайчик
i can't take it
baphometic
angel - wrists slitcus i'm broken down
and wearing out
i know the truth you
hate me now
i'm gettin up and pullin down
the liquor off the shelf
my empty bed is
screaming out
i'm praying that you'll
hear me while
i'm masturbating moaning out
"I'm gonna kill myself."
BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER - UNTERGANG 2019
Xes on my eyes for life
seems like some people 'roudn here tdont know that bishop an emo rapper on the comeup 👀
so lemme introduce myself
bonjour
im bishop.
i write hella poetry, and i just got a midi board and a expensive-ass course on Logic Pro X so imma learn how to produce as well.
imma kind, lighthearted fella, but poetry is my muse to get the dark shit off my chest
and rap is the zeitgeist now so i dont gotta feel ashamed of that anymore lmao
i sold my soul for love and cash, but that keeps biting back
we'll see how siht plays out
.
i love comments, and always peep my inspo tracks or we cant be friends
(jk but srsly)
much love, spread positiv y, all of that shit,
bishop
ps i also cook a lot so if u hungry for some plants hmu
peep tha inspo at the bottom
a wise man once said
don't let your dreams be dreams
so any time i go to sleep
it's always nightmares indeed
a lucid hellscape, i cant
move i cant scream
as i lay there unawake
my fists pounding at the sheets
it steady creeps, in my head
it lays dormant in the day
but still it's stench seeps out
constant suffocates my brain
as i struggle for a breath
and my heart starts to race
i just wanna lay down and
fantasize a better daychasin xanny with the whiskey
give a fuck about my kidneys
life feels like a living hell
if the furnace isn't in me
so im steady blowin smoke
out my lungs like a chimney
my body like the house that
you used to live in with me
now it's empty and i'm starving
feelin ugly, i'm not eating
but the devil promised riches
thus, the dark, i will believe in.
So Spoke Zarathustra
we're in this shit again
as i built up another hope
and then i lost another friend
now there's demons in my head
i expose my skeleton
i thought that i could trust you
always swore you're genuinebut now i'm in this swamp again
and i be wadin' through the water
my skin begins to bubble up
my blood is getting hotter
and i can hear a voice within
screaming out with an offer
all the pain will end if i just
offer up my slaughter
let the water take me under
let the Bishop take me under
i could send my soul away
and throw my body in gutter
and i shudder in my slumber
fingers gripping at the sheets
and i wake up in a sweat
this is what she did to me.
don't let your dreams be dreams
let them be nightmares
when your soul's in the dark
you can trust that the night cares
upon a hilltop
there stood a white mare
who scoffed my direction
took off and left me theretaking an L like
fuck, i'm here again
Zoroastrian hell
as my heart starts withering
cut that bitch out,
used my last breath
to bury it
fell to the ground
as my life was
diminishingsend me to hell
then at least i'll be free of this
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxvLc2a6Iao&t=112s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ff0bq_ydEQ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w--D1S8SrCQ
if anyone would be interested in my top 10 emo rap tracks of 2018 lemme kno because i know what they are i just font have the everny to write a wholeass post on it but if yall want it i will
bye now
we off the drink we off the emo shit
esskeetit
peep the inspo track sat the bottom or we cant be ffriends
sold my soul to the devil
so that i could feel valued
remember bein in a empty
home with a vacuum
former straight-edge
off the drink, off the valium
wanna go back to our
mornings with the cartoons
made my heart a whale
then you hit it with a harpoon
bleedin on the beach, staring
up at the full moon
sometimes life rains
down in a monsoon
i'd be glad to drown if
it means i can love you
.
but i cant even hug you
can't even text you.
antidepressooos
bishop 5'6" but he tryna
be big news.
.
tryna get big so you
cannot forget me
honey your love is a
xanny it's deadly
how'm i supposed to
forget about kelly
or bout all of those nights
that you called me, unsteady
wish i loved you correctly
shit got unsteady
i was just tryna get
us a few pennies
put you in a bentley
put you in the fendi
wasn't rich enough so
you got all offended
on the offensive
antidepressents
fuck that bullshit
it just makes me sedated
.
dont wanna feel shit
if i cant feel you
prayin that you'll text me
"let me heal you"
you got 50 shades of grey
i can see through
but somehow still
made me believe you
ignroed all the red flags
so i could keep you
mistook for an angel
whenever i'd see you
but now you a model
you said "i don need you"
looking for a camera
you can show your tits to
then the devil approached me.
said "i can guarantee you."
.
so i went to the sea
heard a voice, "take a knee"
so i nodded, agreed
and he said "you will serve me -
Boy listen closely
each one of your dreams
surrender control to
you want the money,
someone to devote to,
4-k square foot house
to go home to.
this, i can construe
if you submit to
living your life, all despite
where you'll go to.
i now control you
your soul - i have claim to
but think of all the things
that my hands can bring you.
so i bowed on my knees -
now this man, i submit to.
.
ave satani
i give you my body
my soul, it was drawn, he
took it, made a copy
forgot about mommy
woke up smelling coffee
looked in the mirror
did not hate my body
the sky was all foggy
and greyed-out, but oddly
i liked it enough to
not waste the day nodding
or off of the molly
or in my room rocking
with her voice talking
.
ave satani
the blood and the body
the dark it is calling
and i find it calming
it's sated the longing
lil bishop's evolving
let's go to the graveyard
i feel like walking
and talking
and nodding
inspo tracks: peep this shit
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w--D1S8SrCQ
I'm rather sleepy, generally very reserved when it comes to sharing my work, and not a native user of English, but I have a couple poems in English, and I though I'd share one here and see what the folks think of it. I love the challenge of writing stuff in languages other than my native tongue.
a bird with no wings
a song no one sings
a sorrow when time brings
nil.
ex nihilo nihil fit
et words have no wit
mouth knows only to spit
nil.
time is scarse and gods wobble
in vain hurry naive men hobble
ignoring they will only nobble
nil.
When He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a black horse and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.
a beer in my hand
then a piss in a bush
xans in the bedroom
geeked off the kush
half past nine, running dry
you came thru
bought an 18 pack
and we split it in two
didnt know what we
were getting up to
cuddled on the couch, you
were watching cartoons
slowly got up, said i
got something to do
headed outside, took
a piss off the rooftwo more shots then i
broke the seal, looked up
at the sky saw the devil
on a black horse
headed right for me
flying in a crash course
spoke into my ear, and
his voice was all coarsehis fork-tongued words
hit my ears like sand
and he spoke in a language
that i didn't understand
my stomach felt tight
pale white in my hands
and i went back in at his commandthen i didn't sleep
for the next three nights
and i didn't eat shit
popcorn, white rice
dancing damning dreams of
baby looking at me nice
sugar plums withered to
a kiss, a hug, and a good night-.
soothe-speaking visions of
your eyes like a blue quartz
watching slowly, clouds morph
devil on a pale horse
memories in full force
time has come, no recourse
white wedding dressed corpse
wicca phase task force-.
as she spoke, her eyes became green
stomach butterflies and weak knees
god has sent an angel for me
her hands crawled in my chest slowly
said, "it's your heart which i'm holding"
gently smiled and exposed her teeth
then ate it whole, as a wild beast
a soft call in the distance spoke in peace
hades
with arms open lovingly
and i fellmutter-
seel-
inallein.
mutter-
seel-
inallein.
i finnally found some shit i lvoe
fuggg i hate to post this much because i'm certain my shit gets annoying. i bet there's hella people on here who view my posts as "fluff" and want it gone but highkey idgaf.
i know tildes likes to be open to discussion and likes to look deeper into things - ain't my fault i don't get that many comments ¯\(ツ)/¯. i tried writing more secretive and intricate shit people could pick apart if they want, but those weren't received as well as some of my more blunt posts.
though that one poem i did where i referenced rocky horror did really well.
i dunno.
i just hope my shit belongs here 😂 but i guess if i've been allowed to make over thirty posts in the past three months that means i'm in the clear.
dont be afraid to keep me in check, and dont be afraid to comment on my stuff.
i invite your questions, your critique, your thoughts in general. i may be fucxed in the head, but i'm an artist above all else (is that true?). if you want to dig into my shit or have any ways i can improve on my work, i'd be so glad to know you have no idea
i write my stuff to express myself but that does no good if no one's listening lmao so i want to write shit people like. i welcome all feedback.
anyway i'm ranting again and i'm only tipsy. imma finnish this drink (kuinka voit?), then imma find a beat and ride on some shit.
y'all know the drill.
say it with me.
esskeeetiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit,
i'm actually crying right now. i found a beat that sounds just like the kind of shit i want to make and everything is just rushing to me. this is insane.
this is the blues moderna i want to make. i feel like Taj Mahal
ain't nothing truer in my heart
than missouri blues
remember driving through St. Louis
sitting next to you
remembering the times you said you loved me
guess it wasn't true
told me you'd love me forever
now i'm feeling all confused.baby where'd you go and why'd
you take my heart away from me
now i write pathetic songs and
can't stop thinking pitifully
wonder if you talk me good
or speak on me in mimicry
i can't stop hating myself
and looking at me criticallymirrors are the worst friend
a man could ever have
when a pretty blonde girl went
and tore his heart in half
when he's sure he's lived the best
years he'd ever have
what good is any man, girl,
without his better half?take me to the delta where
a man can sing in peace
laughing at me, drunk
when i'm just tryna find relief
can't afford the therapy,
for shit you did to me
i'd let you take my life if
you just killed me in your sheets(chorus)
baby please
tell me that you care a-bout me
promise you don't laugh at me
tell me that you'll come on close and hold me-.
baby hear me howlin' at your back door
wonder what you're not talkin to me for
hoping that you answer and take me home
take me back before everything went wrongtake me back to days when i still loved good
it was us against the world but girl we endured
our thoughts were caked in sin although our hearts pure
we got all cuddled close and smoked a backwoodtake me back to days when you still liked me
and my body wasn't cause for anxiety
wanna go back to twenty sixteen
eyes blue, hearts black, minds pristinebaby hear me howlin' at your back door
wonder what you're not talkin to me for
hoping that you answer and take me home
take me back before everything went wrong(chorus)
baby please
tell me that you care a-bout me
promise you don't laugh at me
tell me that you'll come on close and hold me
i feel like if i write any more on this one imma ruin it. i don't like that.
peep the inspo
(iit's not rap. it's blues. actually peep the inspo)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4YPMiFaPWo (oooooof jesus christ, 1:13!!!!!!)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-iqTRNUOsFI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0_eRVroLqs
i fucxing hate dallas, i fucxing hate texas.
today's different -
or at least, this part of it.
a lot of the posts i been making the past couple months have been out of this empty kinda want to write something.
as per the usual, i came to starbucks to work on some shit, but i felt something in my chest, got some inspo, and here we are again lmao.
fair warning ahead, this is one of my more...idk, "brazen" posts. i dunno, superficial as hell save for one or two bars. enjoy it or not - love you anyways.
peep the inspo at the bottom
esskeetit.
seeing all these people walking
round arm in arm
while im sitting in my house in
the dark - pop bars
crash cars - cop cars
hella sirens in the distance
blood in the moonlight glistens
bishy getting distant
what's going on in your
head causing dissonance?
what's weighing up with suicide
in equivalence?
still hooked on to
the past in imprisonment?
keep looking back at
what you had and you're missing it?-.
fuck that - cut that
sideswipe - bone crack
i wouldn't go back
despite all the flashbacks
i still got hopes
want my life back
i do this shit 'cus
my soul went bad
layin in a bed full of
pressed pills and porn mags
filling up a pool with
self-hatred and cognac
pistol labeled "lovers"
and the bullet "no contact"
wanna ski slopes 'til
my eyes go all black-.
i don't hate that girl
i hate my self
don't hate this world
i hate my self
spent red candles
on my shelf
lost 21 grams when
i weighed myselfave satani
my fear and my secrets
my tears and my blood
my devotion and regrets
my love and disdain and
my pain and forgiveness
these things are my own
and my self is my weakness
so bring my destruction
and make me a demon
bishop.
inspo:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2p09lM19FpU
bonus: https://youtu.be/DxvLc2a6Iao
i think i've stopped writing for myself recently.
i've been looking at my writing as "art" instead of self expression.
as if things have to have a certain depth, air of mystery, or room for interpretation in order for them to be valid.
i'm getting wine drunk and writing for me tonight.
this is a poem about love, drugs, and crashing cars. that's all.
tildes suggestion: ability to hide the amt of votes on a post.
"The wise man will live as long as he ought, not as long as he can."
- Seneca the younger
turned into a wino
'least im still alive tho
90 on the highway
drive into the signpost
fuckin on the yayo
stoic like im cato
i loved you to the nines
and you fucxed me over tenfold
choked me til my eyes closed
baby got a blindfold
didn't think youd hurt me
gave you all the control
used to be my handhold,
only wanted billfolds
tonight im gettin fucked up,
baby, where'd my gun go?
-.
used to be so cute
starin at your rosy cheeks
now i'm kissin on the
wine glass to the left of me
broken mirror shows the
shattered pieces of what's left of me
i dont even hate you
but baby, i am dead to me
-.
i recommend listening to this song before you jump into this next part if youre going to read it. i borrow the flow here
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmFkCNvfojg
plus, it's a damn good song.
hope he treats you well,
i'll see you in hell
wonder if you hate him,
wonder if you yell
wonder if you stress him
til his troubles swell
wonder if you make him
hide inside his shell
wonder if his money
towers high enough
if you ever got a
lexus to feel good enough
if you ever make him
dinner when his day was rough
if you ever drop your
bullshit and just show him love.
all i ever needed
was a cuddlebug
i swear i tried
my hardest, never good enough
tried to build a home
tried to show you love.
i was never good enough.
all the screaming, all
the fighting i got used to.
just wanted you to smile
cus deep down i really missed you
all it ever came to
was lies and "i hate you"s
i can still hear it
"you look like i abused you."
i felt my eyes going
wide, i was never fine.
dreaming 'bout a better
life almost all the time
'bout a day when we
were married, i could call you mine (&&)
had a home in missouri
everything was right
but any time i tried to
love you, you pushed me away
any time i tried to
hold you, told me "go away"
tried to build a better life for
us every day
then i guess you got your
lexus, made your getaway
claiming that you love me (this block isnt mine)
but you don't mean shit,
claiming that you had me
but you never did,
claiming that you love me
but you don't mean shit,
claiming that you had me
but you never did
pushed me to the side,
made me fade away.
vision fadin' black
i wont be okay
im stuck on this shit
each and every day
if i kill myself,
the dreams will go away.
sup everyone! catchin a vibe today, had a few joji tracks on repeat so i thought i'd build something out of his style/flow.
voici.
inspo:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulMHhPHYCi0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmFkCNvfojg
https://tashacho.artstation.com/projects/EQ4on
doors creaking at the riverside
subtle fog besets an autumn night
white dresses in the lower tide
northern star hangs highcatches my eye
closing in on all sides
belt of Orion,
branch unified
eighth night, knocking coincides
groaning on the other side
doors among the trees
shaking hands you start to climb-.
you've see the stars before
and they always keep their shape
one shoots down,
angel fell from grace
all of their alignments,
a familiar face
didn't want to come back to this place.you liked things as they were
and you prefer a cityscape
slugging through your life
with your eyes ever agape
toeing through the words
and your hands began to shake
she said "you look like i abused you heaven's sake"looked to the sky so many times
that i've mapped the stars out
screamed so many times now
only whispers come out
water from the river Styx
a seed began to sprout
it's the tree atop from which i'm looking out.-.
doors creaking at the riverside
subtle fog besets an autumn night
white dresses in the lower tide
northern star hangs highcatches my eye
closing in on all sides
belt of Orion,
branch unified
eighth night, knocking coincides
groaning on the other side
doors among the trees
shaking hands you start to climb
bishop.
i'm slightly bored and ~creative hasn't had a lot of posts recently so i guess i'll toss some of my lot in here. here's some of the mediocre stuff i pen up more or less without editing in my off time. i have plenty more of these, but most of them require so much context that it'd be a pain in the dick to post them, so they're not likely to see daylight here any time soon. anyways
(note: now hopefully with less formatting fuck ups, lol.)
No, you don’t matter—
you don’t matter, matter, matter…
like a symphony of voices in
the night, their uproarious cacophony
of noise inescapable,
rumbles—shaking. No sleep
to be found, no—you don’t matter…
Sleep is impossible, escape is…
impossible. Draw your mental curtains
in every window and bolt every lock shut—
shut in… shut in with the noise, no you
don’t matter, matter, matter—
Why do you shut yourself in? Why
do you shut yourself inside if you matter?
The voices tremble with fury—but peaceful
they are compared to the noise, echoing, booming—
If you did matter you wouldn’t hide!
You wouldn’t refuse to face the music, oh
if you mattered you’d admit that you’re crazy.
If you mattered the voices wouldn’t be. The
thoughts wouldn’t be. They wouldn’t be, no—
you don’t matter, matter, matter…
some symphony of voices the voices can be—
rattle like a rattle, regurgitating the same sound—
endlessly, on loop. Never enough to deafen the
thoughts, the thoughts never enough to silence
the voices. If you mattered you’d be free
of the voices, you see. Just another crazy
person you are. All alone, you and me...
Always, when meeting, be skeptical.
Be cynical, so when the deal falls through
you can pretend you never wanted
what was offered to you in the first place.
Pretend it doesn’t hurt every time
to tear everything down from day one when
you know it’s irrational action—
when you know if you could just be “normal”…
Go through the process a hundred times
over, stay up every night thinking
why it has to always be this way
and why you’re like this, why you’re so crazy—
never change, always an amorphous
blob of a person, never able to
fit into anything, to be what
you truly want to be, deep down. Normal.
Such is the life of an internet
vagabond—a sacrifice to the great
altar of the untreated mental
illness—crucified by their loneliness.
A dragon always cares for time,
for often he knows that it does rhyme.
And always grows up with the fable,
of the dragon that was able.
For ‘once in time’ a dragon ruled,
and ‘once in time’ that dragon fooled.
So ‘once in time’ that dragon lied,
and ‘once in time’ that dragon died.
And now a dragon lives with fears
of the changes time endears,
and hopes that time will one day cease
and leave his life alone in peace.
But no more is it ‘a’ dragon alone,
instead it is all which to fear is prone.
In face of time, no dragon is steady.
In face of eternity, no dragon is ready.
Dragons will not hail to a tyrant—
that much must be made clear
and shouted for the world to hear.
For a dragon enslaved and martyred—
on the altar of Bira, their blood spilled—
can never by any man be killed.
Yet dragons long have been enslaved—
by despot, by tyrant, by foreign power—
and it seems always the dragon should cower.
But soon, one day soon, the dragon
will rise from their ashes, from their grave
and find a dragon world to save.
Revolution means nothing
if you don’t act.
If you don’t let the hillsides ring
with upstart revolutionary zeal
you are no true revolutionary—
you are no better than a tyrant king!
You can’t be a revolutionary
if you never let the proletarians sing.
i like to save this wiine for special occasions because shit's a german specialty that i like to share with people but i only really talk to one other person in this whole fuuuuucking state so i spent it all on me.
out here wildin rn
i aint posted a new piece in a week(ish) so im doing two
but i post "qulaity" so im okay riiiiiight?
dont @ me if u aint catch tha links
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytVww5r4Nk0
https://i.imgur.com/LKIwWHa.png
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2p09lM19FpU this here song issssss
IMMA PLAY DEPRESSING
MUSIC TIL YOU
COME AND
HOLD MEWENT AND BUILT A COFFIN
BUT I KEEP ON DRILL-
ING HOLES TO
BREATHEIN HOPES I'LL SEE A PIGEON
WITH A NOTE THAT YOU
WROTE ON IT'S
FEETSAYING THAT YOU'RE SORRY
WE FUCKED UP AND
YOU'LL COME HOME
TO ME-.
DOPAMINE
UNKNOWN TO ME
BLACK AND WHITE
A KEATON SCENETHERMOS FULL
OF KEROSENE
XANNY ON
DELIVERY"DADDY WILL YOU
CARE FOR ME?"
I TRIED YOU WERE
NOT THERE FOR MESAW MY GRANDAD
BARELY BREATHE AND
THEN YOU TURNED
ABANDONED ME-.
SORDID SCENES IN
SPOILED DREAMS WHEN
I THINK THAT YOU'VE
COME ON BACKBRAIN AT REST I
FEEL MY FISTS
AS THEY POUND HARD
AGAINST THE BEDFUCK A LABEL
DON'T CARE IF
IT'S ABUSE, I
WANT IT BACKASKED ME IF
I'LL MISS YOU
HOLY FUCK I GUESS
I GOT IT BAD.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
FROM WALKIN' HOME
AND TALKIN' LOADS
TO NO MORE CALLS
LIVING ALONETO TEETH AND CLAWS
AND FRACTURED BONES
TO TOTALED CARS
AND BROKEN HOMESLET IT GO
LET IT GO
DON'T HOLD BACK THE RIVER
LET IT FLOW
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CgvdbbuMQ_k
haha i'm really okay
dont @ me if u aint catch tha links
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShI6axFfqj4
https://i.imgur.com/LKIwWHa.png
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjhJ_Sv0MlI
ich schlaf'
auf einem Bett
das ich aus Stein
gemacht hab'ich schließe
fest die augen
aber finde keine
Schaffeeinfach nur
das Mädel das
hat mich früher
verlassendann klebt mein arm
in der erde ein
um mich zu
begraben-.
ich hab an
sie gelacht und
sie sieht mich
an mit Hassich hämmert auf'm
Nachttisch
bis ich wurde
aufgewachtdann fragte ich
an Gott warum
ich denke immer
krassHände in die
Taschen, lauf'
alleine auf'm
Strassich möchte kein mehr
Weihnachten,
ob sie nicht an
mir sagt:-.
Schätzi, guten
Morgen und
mich küsste auf'm
HalsJa ich
möchte Kaffee
ja ich lieb' dich
ebenfalls"Liebe macht das
Heim" hat sie auf
unserem Wand
gemaltlustig, dass sie
nicht mehr ruft
mich an oder
mich halt-.
?
i dreamed
of you
with angered eyes,
a gaze that
filled with hatei felt my arm
beat on my dresser
'til i did awakea soft and shaky
soul succumbed to rub
against the gratelife has been for nothing since february eighth.\
tu sais qui c'est
alright so the fuck is up with you people!? did y'all see my last post up here got like eighteen votes?
that's crazy! that's one of the best-received things i've posted on tildes, just, overall lmao.
glad to see my sober stuff can be decent competition to my drunk stuff.
on that, i pretty much don't drink on my own anymore (i mean some wine with dinner blah blah) but like drink ya feel?
if i'm at a kickback i'm always down to get fucked up, but coming out of this sober week i kinda restructured how i'm using stuff now.
like i used to try using kratom to get high p often and discovered that that's a shite idea. i just got all wirey and had stomach aches lol.
however just a little bit (~0.75g) in some tea is small enough to avoid any side effects and big enough to work as a solid mood regulator.
much to my discontent this just isn't the kinda thing you take recreationally (the whole reason i picked it up to begin with), but it does definitely boost your mood up like 30x, boost your self confidence, and even help you get some good sleep (if you're sipping red vein varieties.)
i was feeling like a lazy piece of shit (y'know as usual), sipped my tea, and ended up knee-deep in this udemy course for electron apps (building desktop apps like skype or something), made a solid breakfast, wrote this here ditty, and played like 3 hours of risk of rain
. (gotta be lazy somewhere i guess.)
anyway this isn't a blog.
i had a weird concept for this piece and i'm not sure if it came through at all lmao. this was done in maybe 30 minutes.
let me know if you can guess what the piece is describing.
cheers,
bishop.
drip
dripthere's water on the
floor, so don'tslip
slipshake your head,
try to catch agrip
gripdrowning in your
dreams, your legskick
kickbags under your
eyes, you're lookingsick
sick.
try to move your
hand but you cantfeel
itshe wants to cuddle
up in your bedbut
it'smade of steel and
you can't seem tobudge
itstaring up in-
to a funnelwhat's
this?
oh the autumn sounds
raining patters on the ground
i wake up with a jolt
on every time you come aroundand you never text to
let me know before the fact
i'm second guessing every minute
tryna find out when you're atnow we're laying back,
looking straight into your eyes
wonder if the next thing you say
will be a goodbyeyour silence is a lie
your crying leaves me mortified
let me go, let me go,
fuck, got water in my eyes.
drip
dripdrip drip
drip
drip
d..
..
drip
dripdrip
dripthere's water on the
floor, so don'tslip
slipshake your head,
try to catch agrip
gripdrowning in your
dreams, your legskick
kickbags under your
eyes, you're lookingsick
sick.
try to move your
hand but you cantfeel
itshe wants to cuddle
up in your bedbut
it'smade of steel and
you can't seem tobudge
itstaring up in-
to a funnelwhat's
this?
(p.s. fuck yeah canada.)
post-mortem: holy actual beans dudes this is my most popular post by far! what'd you cats like about it so much?
i swear to god my brain and body work in tandom to make sure i never actually do anything productive.
i came to starbucks exclusively to work on some backend stuff for a project i've got, and i've spent the last hour sipping coffee, watching Joji music videos, and writing this lmao.
i wish there was something like cocaine that wasn't, well, cocaine, that you could take and then you'd be like "hey maybe i should clean my room. hey it's a nice day out i should take a walk. ya know if i get work done now, i can actually take a break without feeling like lazy trash later on!"
actually
that sounds like weed.
i need to move to a legal state lmao.
but in order to do that i gotta get better at programming so i can actually get a car (ya fucked up, bishop) and get a new place.
catch-22's are like so literally my favorite thing (:
anyway this isn't even the poem lmao i'm just sober ranting at the internet.
esskeetiiiiiit
<poem></poem>there's this
black hole lingers
'round every corner.obscure sounds
dark haze,
and no bordersit looms near,
strikes fear
when it's closerheart runs,
hands shake,
i get colder./
sometimes
i get close
take a peek inlow growl
sounds loud
gotta feed itaudrey
she's hungry
when you're bleedingjumped in-
to my blood
i'm her beacon/
now i can't shake
this damned desire, god
i think i gotta call heram i safer when she's
gone? she's in my dreams
do i still love her?my best friend is
mad, the shit i do
only appalls her.the pit, it's in my
stomach, god i
feel it getting stronger./
audrey
audrey
keep the peace, please.
audrey
audrey
play my heart strings.
you told me to
obey you baby,
you control me.
audrey
lay me
to rest in peace
bishop
(p.s. i noticed that there always seems to be a vote on my post like the second after i post my poetry shit. whoever you are you're cute af and i love you ok)
my head is aching,
day four in sobriety.
is it the drugs or every-
thing that runs about my dreams
all the people in my night-
mares never let me sleep.
my angry father, my old
lover, or my mother's screams.
i go to bed at noon
and i wake up at three.
no power left, make some coffee
just whatever's cheap.
folgers tastes like cigarettes,
a cup of apathy.
wanna sleep inside a noose
on a dramatic tree.*
eyes on gucci cus
they're catching bags
they're getting dark, like the
stones came, painted them black
i wanna move to where the dems are at.
to the palm trees and the medicine.
i fantasize about a booked flight,
goodbyes, and a packed bag.
fresh check, laptop,
in my backpack
new friends, new home,
and a black lab.
but that's all in the clouds
and my drugs are a jetpack.
but now i'm sober
and i'm jetlagged.
and now she's back
turning my dreams bad
woke up, aching head,
and a hurting back.
dig in my closet
for a white bag.
if i'm lucky it's a heart attack.
oddly enough, it's from a game grumps episode of super mario galaxy lmao
maybe adding that and fixing the meter in these. i feel like the meter in my sober stuff is really jumpy - i can hear the different parts in my head but i don't think im piecing them together well.
have i ever done post-drunken poetry before?
i've got to be breaking some sort of rule with the amount i've been spamming this site over the last four hours.
I'm gonna go make breakfast and take a few days away to compensate.
sorry. thanks for listening.
much love
i woke up after
three hours of sleep
took a look around my room
and everything was tinted green
had a sobering reminder about
why i shouldn't drink
i get caught up in the moment
and try too hard not to think.
i'd do anything to go numb,
i'm afraid of that side of me.
it's hard, i hate myself
when in the middle of sobriety.
the room is tinted yellow as
the sunlight slips in quietly
i'm at a fork in the road,
man, i gotta choose carefully.
to the left a road of headaches,
heartache, a masochistic fantasy
take everything the hard way.
drunken, spinning memories
thinking of the good days,
accepting they're behind you
and your options won't change.
you're numb but somehow bitter
life is shorter, and it starts to fade.
off right a path of effort and torment,
pushing through the years of shit
that you drink just to forget.
the subtle kisses on your forehead
are bullets of a war chest
you're naked and afraid and
your perspective's all distorted
tryna shake your obsession with the morbid
it's been about a year since you last felt worth it.
and say you choose the better
of the two, here's the evil thing.
the second road is always there,
quiet, calm, and glistening.
internal scars and all the
hurt will start to dissipate
just share another secret,
close your eyes, and disintegrate
you're still quite young,
there's time to do the right thing.
maybe depression in aesthetic
isn't really worth you dying
and you won't find steady love
by telling everyone you're crying
that just attracts the broken, you
need something solid and inspiring
to all of you who noticed,
heard my wishes and my wailing
i'll switch to water, hope
that better starts prevailing
idgaf we going two in one day. ban me if my shit's annoying, just give me my posts first. 's all i ask.
i know a lot of the shit i write is blunt.
i know a lot of it is too straight-forward for people to be comfortable with.
i honestly don't care.
i don't write for them.
i write for my sanity.
i want my words to be your drug.
more drunken poetry.
god bless those who support. you keep me here. i'm glad you enjoy my works and i hope, at the very least, i help you find catharsis or explore a morbid curiosity into the lives of the damned.
i am here for you. i am an example.
from dust we're built,
and to ash we fall
wanna get so high, that
i can't move at all.
turns out her secret
was xan all along
i need some harder shit
just to push me along
never thought that love
was really a drug
that was just some dumb
shit they'd say in the songs
but now it's done, you're
gone, and i'm having withdrawals
i'm getting into drugs and
i'm carving my arms
and you couldn't give a fuck,
you never call
guess all of those years
didn't matter at all
all the shit we went through
can suffer the fall
so why am i even here,
or breathing at all.
had me in a trance, girl
i was under your spell
every command, on
my knees i knelt
really suicidal, that's the
hand i was dealt.
kiss me on my scars, i
think it's sexy as hell
the only thing that turns
me on - facades of real love
so if you're tryna lure me
in, give me a real hug.
pull me close, give a kiss,
that's the best drugs
need you to take the
breath out of my lungs
fuck. i want to die.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air...
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
---By John Gillespie Magee Jr
hey you, reading the text sample on the homepage. open this. read the whole thing.
i've got a little friend
with an even smaller secret
she entrusted it in me
and i don't know if i can keep it.
i've got a little friend
who told me a little secret
it's the best i've ever heard
my god i wish i could relive it
she asked me
do you trust me?
as rain poured down on the window
.
i replied honey
would you hurt me?
'course not, i didn't think so.
.
and we laid back
here it fades black
a few things i can't tell you.
.
you'd be angry
try to stop me
don't wanna know what things came to
.
but we laid there
sipping night air
as the rain fell, room was candlelit
.
she felt a little-bittle afraid.
are you okay?
i promise you i can handle it.
.
she laid back, she said alright
i hope that you're right
don't wanna send you scrambling
.
then she got close,
told me a secret
my god i felt outstanding
i've got a little friend
with an even smaller secret
she entrusted it in me
and i don't know if i can keep it.
i've got a little friend
who told me a little secret
it's the best i've ever heard
my god i wish i could relive it
(oh my god)
i've got a little friend
with an even smaller secret
she trusted me with it, by-
god i can barely believe it
i've got a little friend
with an itty-bitty secret
god i never knew that
i would come to need it
then she made me promise
that i wouldn't go and spread
the word about my findings
.
said she'd be upset with me
and told me all these nasty things
about what she would do to me
.
i gotta tan baby with
a little white secret
......can you believe it
....
....
..my god i can't believe it
.
.
WHISPERS IN THE DARK
WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE A PLAYGROUND
NOW YOU WENT AND GOT IT BAD
WENT POKEMON AND WHITED OUT
YOU GOT A GOOD FRIEND
SHE GAVE YOU A SECRET
I'VE NEVER MET SOMEBODY WEAKER
HOW THE HELL COULDN'T YOU KEEP IT
i've got a little friend
with an even smaller secret
she entrusted it in me
and i don't know if i can keep it.
i've got a little friend
who told me a little secret
it's the best i've ever heard
my god i wish i could relive it
.
i dont know why i even try to write sober lmao.i cant wait to move to a legal state and just stay crossfaded 24/7.
imagine the shit i'll come up with.
making my own music. putting my heart in the lyivs, actually being able to record.
you lot might actually be able to hear one of these "peoms" put to music
cool to see i'm not the only person writing poetry on here anymore. shoutout to @precise and @zoec for sharing their works recently. def looking forward to more in the future.
bishop.
do you think i'm pretty?
do you think of me at all?
i've been laying here and shrinking
oh my god i'm feeling small
every bit of stock that i had
in myself, i auctioned off
invested it in you, hoping
you'd return my calls.
mama i just need a hug
baby need a little love
miss how every day you'd tell me
"baby you look cute as fuck"
now you're gone i'm feeling rough
wonder if i'm good enough
used to be so confident
now i'm into hella drugs
every time i look into the mirror
i start pouring up
yeah she was your better half
you're the worse, and quartered up.
your nose is too big, hair thin
need a tummy tuck
need someone to show you love
warm kisses and tummy rubs
you were my rock and now i sniff rocks.
we had a ball, and now i pop bars.
suicidal thoughts, and crashed cars.
i'm not good enough for any heart.
catch a bag, catch a nose job.
dark eyes, need to nod off.
5'6 never get tall.
take my brain with a sawed-off.
god i wish somebody told me
that the world was gonna roll me
up into a piece of paper
light my ass on fire - smoking.
laying in the dark and dosing
tryna keep my eyes from closing
took you to my favorite cities
love was in St. Louis, growing.
boy you're getting kinda fat,
acne's bad, already know it.
chipped a tooth back in the crash
people cannot help but notice
looking down at my whole world eroded
can't seem to control it
guess this is the life i've chosen
getting high and never coping
mama i just need a hug
baby need a little love
girl what happened to the old
days of us not giving up
you gave me euphoria
fuck, i never needed drugs
i know we had some hard times
i guess i didn't love enough
i know that we would argue, we
would yell, and i would wanna cry
but at least i had someone
to hold and didn't wanna die
hope you have a better life,
peacing out for now cus i'm
gonna take a couple drugs and
pray to god i die tonight
A very short poem in 28 words, originally written on the fly for personal reasons, and shown to another audience. Revised for metrical harmony.
O night and secret morning, come to me
Invade this body, use my strange desire
To reenact the birth of midday sun
Contained in cold, recurring, starless nights
hello.
so all of my works have been on here thus far. either existing as posts on tildes if it's something new, or on my desktop if it's a piece from earlier in the year.
i've not gotten the chance to head into a studio yet, thought i'm curious. would anyone care to hear any of these pieces put to music?
if so, which one? i imagine myself being on limited funds for the first few months once i get the fuck out of texas - furnishing a new apartment from the ground up is gonna be money, so i'm limited on how much studio time i'll be able to get but it's definitely going to be a priority.
also - what'd you have for breakfast?
-bishop
how can creativity
be so void of itself
writing poetry is grabbing
beats from off the shelf
finding other words to
talk about the shit you felt
and repeating endlessly
that you want to kill yourself
you turned into a druggie
after mommy up and left
you did the best you could
and now you're feeling all depressed
no money, think you're ugly
and you're wanting to regress
dreaming of the days you'd
lay your head upon her chest
it's the same shit.
ain't shit changed
in the last 90 days
with your lame quips.
hit the drain switch.
catch a liquor wave
write about wanting a grave
in a krater.
baby face it -
your mind is going numb
because you're never number one
in your focus.
but you chose it.
saw the flags, you were blind.
joy in second to the grind
man it's hopeless.
hope we find some other shit now.
find some new words to write down.
otherwise i'm going down.
otherwise i'm going down.
crawl into a corner, fade
into obscurity
never did i think my love
would be the death of me
conflicted, wanting peace,
but i also want to scream
wicca bloody sacrifice
when you show on my screen
tired of this fucking state
i really wanna leave
head out to the west
spend all my money on some weed
maybe in stay in Texas
do some harder shit for free
they say be yourself but
even i'm tired of me.
and i'm solo.
friends don't understand
family do what they can
but they don't know
i feel so alone.
try to play it safe
but the xan's a call away
i could go numb.
is it good though?
maybe shit's laced,
put me in a better place
never come home.
am i done now?
have i said all i can say?
will these ever go your way?
i feel dumb now.
hope we find some other shit now.
find some new words to write down.
otherwise i'm going down.
otherwise i'm going down.
doing it again, i keep
on repeating myself
telling everyone that every-
day's like i'm in hell
never new ideas, why
am i always compelled
to write all of these poems
that are copies of themselves
is this all cathartic,
or at all good for my health?
nowhere else to turn, i
guess i'm feeling overwhelmed
maybe i should call it quits
and keep it to myself
and pray to god that i
will not see november twelfth.
howdy there. had a good day today, landed a new contract! but of course i can't close out the week on a happy post, where's the fun in that?
so i put some drugs in my tea and wrote a thing.
jouissez.
manny couldn't stand in his corner
for his last fight
wilbur turned around, downwind
on his last flight
osipova sat down, and rolled
off her tights
big sigh
tongue-tied
tryna get their words right
don't cry big guy
i know you'll be alright
life builds character out
of all the bad times
why do my characters
always end up bad guys
even james evans is
falling in some bad times
had a pet, but she
left and took it with
every time he close his eyes,
her visions dance around his head
doesn't want to sleep, so
he's turning to the cigarettes
kinda hard to cuddle up
next to a slilhouette
he craved depth, but
he had nowhere to lay his head
so he grabbed a shovel, headed
out and dug a grave instead
no more confidence, put
some holes in his esophagus
crossed his arms and fell back
into his own sarcophagus
blind optimists start
to make his stomach sick
you say he'll be fine,
how are you so sure of it
(beat.)
how are you so sure of it
times are hard, sui-
cide epidemic
one heated moment,
rash decisions
one year feeling this shit
i can't live with
remember when you made
me liberated
used to be a loverboy
now i'm all jaded
look at myself in the mirror
and i hate it
wonder if i'm thought about
well, or i'm hated
tryna forget, get
numb in this krater
wondering now if
you were a sadist
otherwise how could you
lie to their faces?
tell em that you'd be
there when they need it?
i'm not the only body
you left bleeding
he craved depth, but
he had nowhere to lay his head
so he grabbed a shovel, headed
out and dug a grave instead
no more confidence, put
some holes in his esophagus
crossed his arms and fell back
into his own sarcophagus
"FUK LUV" blood-etched,
tatted on his chest
eyes closed, smile wide, now
that he can get some rest.
high hopes that there's
life in the next.
what he wouldn't give,
just to start over again.
i mean come on how often do i write something upbeat eh?
bishop.
esskeetit.
takin off
rocketship
falling in a krater
look around
supernova
feeling upgraded
on the moon
turned into rocks
i'm integrated
i'm goin up never
coming home don't
lose your patience
takin off
rocketship
falling in a krater
look around
supernova
feeling upgraded
on the moon
turned into rocks
i'm integrated
i'm goin up never
coming home don't
lose your patience
baby mama trauma
got me all
dilapidated
only ever feel
myself when i
get sedated
on some tony
robbins shit my
giant awakened
hope we're
witnessing another
legend in the making
keep the dream alive
i'll make a home
out of chicago
get a new girl
some better friends
and pop some bottles
tryna climb this
fucking mountain and
i cannot let go
thank god i
got my heart broken
by that model.
you called me a snake
and then you took my
heart to battle
grab my neck and threw
my body down
into the gravel
buried me, in
the dirt found
oil and fossils
didn't think i'd
build a rocket and
then have a blastoff
takin off
rocketship
falling in a krater
look around
supernova
feeling upgraded
on the moon
turned into rocks
i'm integrated
i'm goin up never
coming home don't
lose your patience
takin off
rocketship
falling in a krater
look around
supernova
feeling upgraded
on the moon
turned into rocks
i'm integrated
i'm goin up never
coming home don't
lose your patience
so i know nobody asks for my shit poetry lmao.
i just wanna take a second to thank tildes for being a place for me to get shit off my chest.
i wrote a comment on another site earlier today about catharsis, artistic expression, and depression. and it really made me appreciate the little community we've got going here.
i have a feeling it's the same 5-6 people who upvote my posts whenever they come through, and i love you six to hell and back.
i doubt i'd even get that kinda traction anywhere else.
thank you for the support.
thank you for letting me vent.
much love.
bishop.
it's 3:11 like
the band you like
remember dancing
under flashing lights
ripped off your bra
threw it up high
heading home, arm in arm
what a night
i couldn't see it i
guess i was blind
fetish for pain meant
you loved a fight
you came the loudest
when you held the knife
and drove deep into
my chest that night.
you held me close
and kissed me soft
sat in your lap
and gently rocked
empathic smile and
a lying tongue
you made a promise
that we'd still talk.
behind your back you
held a loaded gun
pulled the trigger took
off in a run
into his arms
into the sun
things are getting dark
in our garage.
dysthymia
is in my blood
and i cant end
it soon enough
but i just do not
have the guts
yet.
water my tongue
with shitty rum
and pray that i
will find the one
and she'll still love
me when i'm drunk
and
dysthymia
i'm getting high
and i don't really
wanna die
it's just i never
feel alive
man
dripping knife
a sacrifice
mr. sandman
please be nice
i don't wanna
see her face
now
it's 3:11 and
i'm home alone
asking questions
that nobody knows
should i buy
some xans
buy
some coke
would i be upset
if i overdose
it's been some months
and still here i am
hooded sweater, scarred
arms, kicking cans
a black sheep,
a lost lamb
still in the kiln -
shell of a man
dysthymia
is in my blood
and i cant end
it soon enough
but i just do not
have the guts
yet.
water my tongue
with shitty rum
and pray that i
will find the one
and she'll still love
me when i'm drunk
and
dysthymia
i'm getting high
and i don't really
wanna die
it's just i never
feel alive
man
dripping knife
a sacrifice
mr. sandman
please be nice
i don't wanna
see her face
now