Howling Madly

wolfbittenpoet · 04-12-2011, 12:50 PM

I am no poet
I am a fire eyed fraud
Who taps at letters
Rambling mumbling
Incompetent
Nothing I create
Is Shakespeare
So I can not be a monkey with a typewriter
No I am ruled by emotion
So in the world of Wilde all I make is bad poetry
I have no sense of form
No concept of structure
I have never had a conversation with a comma
I am a grammatical anarchist
I am no poet
I simply sit down at a typewriter and bleed
So maybe Papa would say I'm a writer

wolfbittenpoet · 04-12-2011, 03:31 PM

My imagination is in a box
It sits on a shelf beside my heart in its cage
It has a lock on it
But it breaks often and escapes
Then it roams doodling on the walls
In a magic marker that won’t scrub off
It makes funny faces at me
Trying to get a response
Some days I ignore it as it babbles
Incoherent in the back of my mind
Others I embrace it and we laugh like jackals
Dancing about like we dwealt in Bedlam
And sing out the troubles of the world
For the vorpal blade to slay

wolfbittenpoet · 04-12-2011, 07:09 PM

He sits upon a cardboard throne
A king in a broken home
His roof a bridge
His fanfare the roaring of the trucks
He used to lounge feet up
With his buddies beside a jewel green forest
Now his only jester is a bottle
Wrapped in brown paper
He begs for coins
Lost in memories
Sometimes someone buys him a meal
He thanks them
But he'd rather drink
Numb the pain
Make life bearable
What life there is left

wolfbittenpoet · 04-12-2011, 08:00 PM

Am typewriter boy
In laptop world
Reinking ribbons
Staining my hands
Speedtyping in midnight hours
Smelling of sweat and correction fluid
Drinking down inspiration
Sitting with a single desklamp shining on keys
Living in the shadows
Cursing for forgetting to advance paper
Going back with red pen and bitten pencil
Making the edits
Sit it in a box and let dust gather
Before going back again for retype
In the midnight hours
Drinking down inspiration
Eating my own words

wolfbittenpoet · 04-15-2011, 08:05 PM

Falling off the couch
From lack of sleep
Staring at the carpet
Far too close up
Writing down halfbrain thoughts
And realizing everything I own
Inkstained
Have I fallen down the rabbithole
Or have I climbed out

wolfbittenpoet · 04-16-2011, 07:18 PM

Armor
Straight jacket comfort
Conceal and protect
Shifting with movement
Barely breathing
Heat
Warm fevered touch against skin
Raw
Sweat
Hugging me too tight
Safety
Makes me less and more
Pain
Temporary
Survival
Armor
Against ignorance

wolfbittenpoet · 04-16-2011, 09:01 PM

Dark shadows trace my walls
Childhood monsters big and small
I watch them move from the floor
I'm just too tired to fight them anymore
The big bad wolf was never scary
It was the good fairies
They changed you made you sweet and mild
Made you a beautiful oh so tasty child
Sinister in their good intent
Who goes to hell
They can all get bent
So I lay upon the floor
And wonder if I can take childhood terror anymore
I don't want to be Rose Red or Snow White
Nor a prince instead they all lose their fights
I'd rather be some poor unknown farm boy
Who becomes the dread Pirate Roberts
At least Wesley got to win Buttercup's delight

04-12-2011, 12:50 PM	#1
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He/They Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL where cows go mooooo Posts: 535 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 893 Thanked 1,579 Times in 403 Posts Rep Power: 7518427	I am no poet I am a fire eyed fraud Who taps at letters Rambling mumbling Incompetent Nothing I create Is Shakespeare So I can not be a monkey with a typewriter No I am ruled by emotion So in the world of Wilde all I make is bad poetry I have no sense of form No concept of structure I have never had a conversation with a comma I am a grammatical anarchist I am no poet I simply sit down at a typewriter and bleed So maybe Papa would say I'm a writer __________________ Burn Burn Burn

04-12-2011, 03:31 PM	#2
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He/They Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL where cows go mooooo Posts: 535 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 893 Thanked 1,579 Times in 403 Posts Rep Power: 7518427	My imagination is in a box It sits on a shelf beside my heart in its cage It has a lock on it But it breaks often and escapes Then it roams doodling on the walls In a magic marker that won’t scrub off It makes funny faces at me Trying to get a response Some days I ignore it as it babbles Incoherent in the back of my mind Others I embrace it and we laugh like jackals Dancing about like we dwealt in Bedlam And sing out the troubles of the world For the vorpal blade to slay __________________ Burn Burn Burn

04-12-2011, 07:09 PM	#3
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He/They Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL where cows go mooooo Posts: 535 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 893 Thanked 1,579 Times in 403 Posts Rep Power: 7518427	He sits upon a cardboard throne A king in a broken home His roof a bridge His fanfare the roaring of the trucks He used to lounge feet up With his buddies beside a jewel green forest Now his only jester is a bottle Wrapped in brown paper He begs for coins Lost in memories Sometimes someone buys him a meal He thanks them But he'd rather drink Numb the pain Make life bearable What life there is left __________________ Burn Burn Burn

04-12-2011, 08:00 PM	#4
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He/They Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL where cows go mooooo Posts: 535 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 893 Thanked 1,579 Times in 403 Posts Rep Power: 7518427	Am typewriter boy In laptop world Reinking ribbons Staining my hands Speedtyping in midnight hours Smelling of sweat and correction fluid Drinking down inspiration Sitting with a single desklamp shining on keys Living in the shadows Cursing for forgetting to advance paper Going back with red pen and bitten pencil Making the edits Sit it in a box and let dust gather Before going back again for retype In the midnight hours Drinking down inspiration Eating my own words __________________ Burn Burn Burn

04-15-2011, 08:05 PM	#5
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He/They Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL where cows go mooooo Posts: 535 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 893 Thanked 1,579 Times in 403 Posts Rep Power: 7518427	Falling off the couch From lack of sleep Staring at the carpet Far too close up Writing down halfbrain thoughts And realizing everything I own Inkstained Have I fallen down the rabbithole Or have I climbed out __________________ Burn Burn Burn

04-16-2011, 07:18 PM	#6
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He/They Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL where cows go mooooo Posts: 535 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 893 Thanked 1,579 Times in 403 Posts Rep Power: 7518427	Armor Straight jacket comfort Conceal and protect Shifting with movement Barely breathing Heat Warm fevered touch against skin Raw Sweat Hugging me too tight Safety Makes me less and more Pain Temporary Survival Armor Against ignorance __________________ Burn Burn Burn

04-16-2011, 09:01 PM	#7
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He/They Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL where cows go mooooo Posts: 535 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 893 Thanked 1,579 Times in 403 Posts Rep Power: 7518427	Dark shadows trace my walls Childhood monsters big and small I watch them move from the floor I'm just too tired to fight them anymore The big bad wolf was never scary It was the good fairies They changed you made you sweet and mild Made you a beautiful oh so tasty child Sinister in their good intent Who goes to hell They can all get bent So I lay upon the floor And wonder if I can take childhood terror anymore I don't want to be Rose Red or Snow White Nor a prince instead they all lose their fights I'd rather be some poor unknown farm boy Who becomes the dread Pirate Roberts At least Wesley got to win Buttercup's delight __________________ Burn Burn Burn