F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S ------------------------------------------------------- - t h e p o e t r y v e n t u r e - ------------------------------------------------------- [intro] ------------------------------------------------------- kiss the needles a snow white pain seethes in morbid silence a quiet simplicity that outlines my very being quickly - turn off the lights before searing brightness burns my mortal soul unwilling and unable to fulfill the simple desires that permeate his being i wonder what it is to be a violet - perfection in its own right imagine the possibility of suffering a yellow soul and being adored in spite of it a silent reaching, a bleeding within within and yet beautiful without what is it about innocence that beckons? And can I capture that lacy corsage and pin it upon my own breast? Or would it prick me, a sharp death instrument, shunning the torrid veined flesh that lives there? That flesh That flesh that knows teeth and fists, an intelligent knowing that blackens and mars, a rose petal torn by life. See the gentle curl of ruin and love it as you would a violet please. demonika 4/14/98 Blood My bite breaks the surface of his trembling, pale skin, as I rest his head gently upon my shin. His warm, moist, luscious blood drips through the cracks of my teeth, and I listen to the sound of my tasteful love's frightened shrieks. I see him squirm, wiggle and tighten his fist, as I move in to give him one final everlasting kiss, I feel his chilled flesh between my two hands, while his hair parts into small, thin strands. He looks at me with pleading blue-green eyes, as I smile sweetly and lick my lips dry. I let him loose and he falls to the floor, as I walk away wishing I had more. I move on to find my next male victim, as the sun sets and the day becomes dim. I walk through the woods, lips coated with dry blood, sneakers carrying me through the sticky mud. Crickets chirping their tune, while I look up and cry at the moon. My eyes that have changed to auburn, look around remembering all I have learned. Hair of blond that has now been changed to a darker shade of black, hugs my shoulders and dances on my back. I hear him in the distance, so my pace becomes faster, something grabs me from behind, it is my master. He created me so he is my love, I wonder if I am damned as I look up above. What I have become is not my fault, I didn't have a choice, when it came to my decision, he had stolen my voice. I do not wish to be changed, I longer understand the meaning of good, you can try to change me back, but I doubt anyone ever could. Volaris New Gods Decree subtle lies, faithless cries i hear them all for I am one of the new gods let it be, the emotional debris persecution unending, my soul in lending new stye of abuse for I am one of the new gods flesh is torn, again i'm born self damage your sin, as if giving in you try to drag me back for I am one of the new gods, and this is my decree mea culpa 98 TEMPORARY PLOT it's motionless. this passing phase sleeps. decision want to circumsize my integrity. peeling back love. leaving emotions on the floor. one more kiss for credibility. childhood forces. black days and dead nights. everyone sees them pointing a finger. wake up. nothing breaks like a dream. and no one knows you when you linger. borrowing idols. turning to sounds for answers. and there's only one more sacrifice to try. thoughts harvest hate. sanity bleeds into the Holy Grail. but i am not prepared to fight and die. Indiana Poet March 5, 1998 In times of sadness pressing madness, you make me laugh comical tears, to forgetful hardships colored murky, we elope to happiness hello honest, you attire my emotions adorned alive, I love you like sunsine heated time. In times of sickness pressing wickedness, you make me well thankful health, to amnesia amazement cured despondency, we elope to fancy for each other, a rare caring crafted honey, you've acquired my emotions dancing inside, I love you like sunshine heated time. Sadia Dark Cavern Dark cavern of my refuge Only the way I want it. Light as much or as little, scent and decor up to me. Alcove in the wall, where I can stop and stare. No need to wonder, what I am doing there. Not liking the outter-world I can always find my way, to that dark cavern. Dark cavern of my refuge. Filled with only the items I wish no need for rushing or being harsh. The cavern is onlyt he way I want it. Days or years do not matter. For I shall always ... the dark cavern of my refuge. Kamira March 20, 1998 BULIMIA Images in front of me waifs wisps of hair I stare into my reflection and cry fill my needs pour in more It's full I stick the hand of fate down my throat deeper come out anger, bitterness fill me purging pouring out like a river with empty promises of becoming you a frail bird empty soul a waif Longing, Bingeing, Purging BlueRose ------------------------------------------------------- E D I T O R S: jericho@dim.com & demonika@dim.com ------------------------------------------------------- to receive new issues via e-mail, send mail to jericho@dimensional.com with "subscribe poetry". if you do not have FTP access and would like back issues, send a list of missing issues and they will be sent. ------------------------------------------------------- A V A I L A B I L I T Y: AnonFTP: FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK/POETRY WWW: http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho ------------------------------------------------------- (c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author. ------------------------------------------------------- F O U N D E D: October 30, 1997