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House Of Echos
a place for hauntings
Can you feel the difference
Between poetry and prose?
Rainbows and miracles?

Do you know the difference
Between black and white?
Love and pain?

Can you tell the difference
Between day and night?
My tears and the rain?

You can't.
There isn't a difference.
It is all life.

emotion: content content

Walk down the hall
See someone you know
Give a little wave
And shout hello.

Separating soon,
Going every which way,
We won't be here long
So seize the day.

Churchill will be past,
Graduation's here
And parted we will be
With a laugh and a tear.

With each memory
Fresh in our minds
We will be reminded
Of many good times.

Of girlfriends and boyfriends
Of each of our classes
Of teachers and homework
And the stairwell masses.

Of the roles that we played
In everyone's lives
From day to day,
And stride to stride.

Of the games that we played
Of Trojan sprit, Trojan pride,
Of all the inside jokes
And good friends by your side

Each of the problems
As well as the fears...
They will be forgotten
Throughout the next years

But the best four years
Go by so fast
Take time to enjoy them
And make them last.

So when you walk down the hall,
And see someone you know,
Give a little wave,
And shout hello

emotion: calm calm
noise: The Mexican Hat Dance (imh)

Who paid for the bombs

Who paid for the guns

Who paid for the knives

Who paid for the tanks

Who paid for the bullets

Who paid for the planes

Who paid for the boots

Who paid for the graves


Who paid for equality

Who paid for justice

Who paid for victory

Who paid for liberty

Who paid for safety

Who paid for security

Who paid for freedom


Who are they

Who are you


-Memorial Day 2004

[its all a facade and nothing really matters]

anybody ever do any writing excercises?

just thought i'd ask, i used to do some interesting things
to get my brain going.
i like the whole writing for 5 minutes nonstop deal, kinda rushes your thoughts out. or sometimes i write words that spring to mind, and try to create sentences later around those words.

any suggestions?

emotion: blah blah
noise: atdi, ebroglio

1 thought * thinking
ashes of childhood
lost in the glass house
a porcline mother
with cold fingers
her fight with love
and the standards
of worldly and ugly

but somehow I emeraged
from riches to reality
I left my co-dependance
in the hands of a bitter man
with an ego like a battleship

jungles and street walkers
downtown central at midnight
theres a flashing light
a party down 4th street
and the bass booming
like a siren for my feet
I answer to my calling

draw nigh nightlife
draw nigh and I shall do the same
in my jadded self persciption
my narissctic anti self on fire
I need my dancefloor fix

glass house could never withstand this
I normanlly write poetry but I felt the desire to write a short story. I haven't really read many short stories in my time and so i can't really judge how this one is turning out. So any input would be great, thanks.

It's still isn't close to being finishedCollapse )
Tears fall
From heavenly places
They also fall
From people's faces

A sign of hope
A sign of sadness
Which may lead us
Into madness

A love lost
A love found
Tears are the things
That keep us bound

Bound tight
They keep us
To our emotions,
Into our lusts

We see friends come
We see friends go
This is one cause
For us to show

To show the love
And the emotions
That make our friendship
Quite a notion

What makes us cry
These many tears
Is for only us to know
Throughout the years

From happy, to sad
Those tears will fall
Good memories and bad
They celebrate them all

So tears fall
From up above
Dropping upon us
Like a newfound love

emotion: sleepy sleepy

1 thought * thinking
all of your bells and whistles
saturate my imaginary course
dirty words hanging like linnen
your breath moving them like October breezes
my life is this house of letters  
spelling out the story of my changes
you are my guest uninvited
rearraging these letters to words
(but love can't really be a verb)
my hallwys are narrow in illusion   sclient pathways to godless rooms

have you senn a little girl?
these bricks
the subject of building walls
and sad songs
fill my hallways

I could slay my minotuar
but then I would have to give you in

blue lines of passage
exposed to bully independace
in all my maddness
I fondly have called my dreams

chasing Echo past the doorways
her refusal to love moves me deeply

but we were young
my hair was the ocean to safe passages
and his taste
wooed me like the lullabyes
Hello all.

So I really want to build our member base. Please fell free (I encourage) to invite anyone you might think would be a good peice for this community. I would really like to have a place where people who are really in tune with their forms of expression will be able to post.

You know how these things are, right? So invite those that you think will be a positive addition.


emotion: sick sick
noise: Poe _ Haunted

Had to write this for a job, enjoy, or not.

Purple is the color I find when I want something majestic. Purple is power and mystery, symbolism dating back to the ancient purple garments worn by royalty long before the Romans had begun construction. It can inspire me in moderation, but a delicate balance is required to avoid being overwhelmed by the power of a preponderance of purple. Purple has a smell, lilacs and lavender, detectable on a subconscious level even when its only a purple crayon. Purple tastes like grapes and Dimetapp, the wondrous grape-flavored medicine dispensed with an extra dose of love. Purple is extravagance, proof that extra care has been taken in every way to make something of special magnificence. Purple is "Smoke on the Water" and a tentacle taking over the world in a computer game from 10 years ago. Purple is the color my date wore to my first homecoming; another date wore the same purple to my senior prom. Purple is beauty and heartbreak, the color of a bruise achieved during a victorious race.
hi...im guessing, for the moment, that people can read others by their work, so here we go: this is a short story i worte a few months ago

HeartsCollapse )

emotion: calm calm
noise: zamphir

Okay this is not my work, and to give full credit Immortal Technique wrote this song, but I beleive that it's important enough to make a post out of.

They told me I would never make it, I would never achieve it
Reality is nurishment, but people don't believe it
I guess its hard to stomach the truth like a bulimick
its a dirty game and nobody is willing to clean it
But this is for the paralygics, people dreamin' of runnin'
ladies married to men who dont please 'em, dreamin' of comin'
verbaly murderous like David Berkowitz when I'm gunnin'
Some cowards on the internet didn't think I would sell
scared to talk shit in person, cuz they stuck in a shell
and couldn't understand the pain of being stuck in a cell
Hell is not a place you go, if you not a christian
it's the failure of your lifes greatest ambition
It's a bad decision to blindly follow any religion
I don't see the difference in between the wrong and the wrong
Soldiers emptyin' the clips at little kids and they moms
are just like a desperate motherfucker strapped to a bomb
Humanity is gone, smoked up in a gravity bong
by a democrat republican Cheech and Chong
Immortal Technique, you never heard me preachin' a song
I'm not controversial, I'm just speakin' the facts
Put your hands in the air like you got the heat to your back
and shake your body like a baby born addicted to crack
And since life is a gamble like the crabstables at Vegas
I freestyle my destiny, it's not written in pages

I hate it when they tell us how far we came to be
as if our peoples history started with slavery
Painfully I discovered the shit they kept us secret
this is the exodus like the black jews out of Egypt
I keep it reality based wit the music I make
brought the truth to your face with the style I run wit
like the navy missile that shot down flight eighthundred
I'm like the africans who came here before Colombus
and from the 15 hundreds until after tomarrow
I watch Latin America get raped in the sorrow
You see the spaniards never left Espese de Cologne
and if you don't believe me, you can click on Une Vision
I never seen so much racism in all of my life
every program and newscast, all of them white
It's like a part tide with 10 percent ruling the rest
that type of stress 'll make me put the fucking tool to your chest
Step in my way nigga, I wouldn't wanna be ya
I burn slow like pissing drunk with gonnorrhea
I'll do a free show in North Korea, burning the flag
while Jay Edgar Hoover politicians dress up in drag
Try to confuse you, makin' it hard to follow this:
capitalism en democracy are not synonymous
You swallow propaganda like a birth control pill
sellin' your soul to the eye on the back of the dollar bill
But that will never be me, cuz I am leavin' the past
like an abused wife with the kids, leavin' your ass
Like a drug addict clean and sober, leavin' the stash
unbreakable Technique leavin' the plane crash
I'm out with the black box and I refuse to return
I spit reality, instead of what you usually learn
and I refuse to be concerned with condecending advice
cuz I am the only motherfucker that could change my life

Some people think I won't make it
but I know that I will
Escape the emptiness
cuz that shit is slow and it kills
the flow and the skill
I made y'all believe that it last
You can make the future
but it starts with LEAVING THE PAST

emotion: melancholy melancholy

Anger, resentment, hatred and fear
Anguish, and pain deliverance is near
Before 9-11 it was a fucked up plan,
But now, it’s just worse, I’m doing all that I can
Cause surviving is the goal, with salvation at hand
Cure my wounds and show me the plan
Don’t tell me to deal, don’t tell me it’s alright
Don’t tell me that shit prepare for a fight
Eon it’s now the Revolutions at hand!
Enough with their bullshit lets take back our land
Federal agencies all running this shit
Food is all we want, that’s all, that’s it
Gather you wealth while you still can,
Ganking our rights and imposing your ban
Head for the hills the Poor want a fight
Here we will stand for our human rights
Imagine a world where we all get to eat
It’s something that’s for all, not just you elite
Just pick up your hopes, take what they stole
Justification for wealth demanding its toll
Killing our dreams for what’s rightfully ours
Keeping us down, putting us behind bars
Let me tell you a story, of the urban inner street
Like the hunger I have, it is real, and it is deep
Money is power and the poor have none
Most will die while they are still young
Nothing is given in this capitalist hell
Never will I know relief from this poverty spell
Origins of the problem run deep in this land
Our necessity for greed is the primary plan
Poverty is hell and it gets even worse
People despise anyone born with this curse
Quietly we walk alone through the night
Questioning the reasons of what’s wrong, and what’s right
Reaching out to you asking for your spare change
Reluctantly sitting there hiding our shame
So tell me its better that I have the right to vote
Sitting at the Salvation Army, begging for a coat
The weather’s turning colder, and I hope to make it through
This time of year, when my fingers turn blue
Until we find a solution to the problem I face
Unity will be lost it’s an un-won race
Vocally I challenging your right to rule
View me as a radical is what you will do
We won’t sit down and believe that this is our fault
We won’t sit quietly many will follow our call
X-ray vision has allowed me to see
X-mas is the prime time for our poverty
You tell me I’m nothing if I do not contribute
Yet I’ve work harder than you in your suit
Zero in my bank account is all that I see
Zipping up this coat of non-apathy

The ABC’s of the Streets
David Childers

emotion: sad sad

1 thought * thinking
We sit and pray to statues of god-
And act like we never knew.
Men without eyes,
Men with bleeding minds-
Insecurity are the walls of the womb-
Sacrifice we're born into.

Religious beliefs,
Sacraments are the bed we're forced to lay in-
Still we act like we never knew.
In the background evil forces move with grace,
Take your shallow mind and create the sacred pariah.

You're questioning the security and sense of yourself,
So you lay another day aside and wait in the rain.
Rain wears down the soul-
Your world you once loved turns cold.
Bask in the light of self sustenance,
Look and see how you are-
Bold and cruel is the silence.
We are men without eyes,
The womb is still speaking,
Attached to the mind.

You are forsaken-
Your words are mistaken,
Lying and basking in the rain,
Dying, and lying, and crying,
Left alone with a scar and no home,
Pleading for your daily bread.

God looked away long ago-
God died with the abortion pill,
We are not wanted, We're but simple hearts,
Lost and left looking for a home-
Your time is slowly taken,
Another martyr will die today.

Your soul is bombed,
Black crows swimming and picking at your bones-
Stealing what's rightfully yours,
Come back to life my child and leave your ghost.

We are the everything pressing against the nothing,
We are the righteous who click in with the norm-
What good is confidence and thought when all you've taught yourself is war?

emotion: contemplative contemplative
noise: Cranberries- Zombie