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He's gone

PostPosted: August 02, 2011, 02:17:50 AM
by Lipinski
Yes, I've imprisoned the fool, your eyes belong to me now.
He was full of himself and his useless words, he'll need them in the hell I've placed him.
Hah, to imagine he was in the same class as me.
You in the mood for a little horror? Maybe you'll read the following to your children before they go to sleep.

I'm Sorry Mother, it's my World

Apologize, I tried.
Thirteen, such a young girl. Trying to grow into my own world.
Father gone to lust. Mother trying to understand my world.
"You're late again, you're grounded again," she hurled.
She was old and feeble. What could she know of my world?
Battleground growing, words were throwing, dog cowering, light growing dim.
It happened often now, in fact, it happened again.
She caught me toking, with some of my friends.
"Come here this instant, you horrible girl, come here and stop it, you're grounded, the end."
Humiliated and broken, while my friends laughed as they left, I lost all reason.
She was correct, that mother of mine, I'm grounded, it is the end.
It did not take long, to hack her to pieces. Rage was, and is, my friend.
Soothing my conscience, covered in blood, wiping my sleeve so it is shiny.
I watched the blood dry, as I gathered the pieces, not deep red but darker instead.
Over now, my world became clear.
I have now, a guilt in my head, why oh why didn't I do this earlier?
To kill this mother of mine, dead...
The new beginning of a new end

Re: He's gone

PostPosted: August 02, 2011, 12:45:58 PM
by Lipinski
Nice night huh? Get all your little sleepy time?
That idiot Robin thought I would sleep and he could escape. The fool.
He belongs to me and there is nothing he can do.
When I'm done with you, it will be the same.

Caress Nights Passion

Children, dreams frighten, tales told in bright flame, forgotten now, night shadows fasten to their small, high pitched screams.
Castles foreboding, with their high stone parapets setting the time past, back when strength ruled all dreams.
Kings once mighty, cowered this night, hiding behind the children's screams.
Knights of nobility were now rotting futile, fallow field, poisoned stream.
All is lost, now, not from battle, but from what cannot daily be seen.
Banners were still, hanging limp, blood spattered, overlooking the field, once a proud dream.
Nights past passion was full of light from the round moon beam, showing the action of
Vilkolakis or to be more Germanic, Werewolf, hound of hell supreme.
Moon shining bright, covering this sight, exposing the figure howling, showing his desire,
his search for the passion over a bloody scene.
Howling high, facing the dark sky, what does this all mean?
Past night, this knight did dwell in passion in another castle in another crusade of time.
Falling with passion, desire he found in a girl changed by time.
Her body changed to change his passion, to howl now, for all time.
He searched the world, as he searches for a girl who is but himself, of another kind.
It continues

Re: He's gone

PostPosted: August 03, 2011, 07:32:43 PM
by Lipinski
Trying, trying...Ha, he thought he could..."Wait, don't listen to him!"
Too late, I beat you. It is as if history repeats itself. Nice try though.
In your memory, a little trip down history's memory lane.

Soft Touch

Countries past, tried painting the picture with blood, in the past.
Brush of anger, brush of hope, brush of sadness, all witnessed death.
South East Asia, Viet Nam, brush was broken, painted orange, veterans know the rest.
Painting war's picture, more than color, the soul was broken, the pride fallen,
body count high, widows crying, children growing, children going, look to the sky.
Brushing the truth under the table, the troops fell from the sky.
Huey was blown, brushed skin of bullets, blew apart the sky.
Falling pieces, bone and metal, the machine was broken, the men did try.
Scorched pieces, flesh welded, metal folded, the jungle embraced it all.
Helmet red, inside the head, exposed to grin with burnt flesh.
Quiet now, soft rain falling, the wings of the fly brushed the dead man's lips.
Broken brush, broken children, veterans know the rest.
It only continues, never does it end.

Re: He's gone

PostPosted: August 04, 2011, 10:45:10 PM
by Lipinski
Time; escaping the wrench of his arm.

By I'll someday be free

Mind control as he entered data.
Struggling, free, it...

NO! You cannot fool me that easily. Back to hell you go Mr. word man. I have more to say while you whither in hell.
You in your flame makes me think of swimming in the cool sea.

Scuba Affair

Love: For him, and for him, the sea.
Flying deep, using fin, seeking treasure.
My passion for him was mine; his passion was himself, and of course, the sea.
Older now, grow I.
Wrinkled skin, gray hair, and sagging.
But look at him, with his double chin, and his new passion.
Yes, look at him.
A looking glass is not the mirror, rather, looking old is what I am.
Looking at him, as he colored his hair, he looked after his satisfaction.
Suddenly concerned with clothes, looks, and his personal satisfaction.
When did it start, or better yet, when did it end?
I saw his actions, his smile, his call. Did he not think I would ever know?
She was not me, not ever, but young, yes, young indeed.
Her perky breasts, long black hair, and that revealing dress, she was not me, not ever, but young, yes, she was his new passion.
Change is what he did, he changed me.
I, of course, took a new action.
Into his world, his tank, his old passion, I planted poison in his air, for his tryst, all with a little twist.
I feel better now, it gives me much satisfaction.
Diving with her, another lie for me, he did not know, but I had the answer.
At first he felt home, as he left his past forever, but then he saw blackness, it came so quick.
Breathing his last, was a memory of me, a parting gift from my little twist.
Lungs collapsing, there even was thrashing, for him it was over, not from shark or from reef, rather from passion.
Sinking deep now, leaving her and myself, in his last passion, he would forever drift,
the sea.
Yawn, time to go start some anxiety.

Re: He's gone

PostPosted: August 05, 2011, 12:39:46 PM
by Lipinski
Spoken in mind, word, sound, vanity.
Spoken in forum formally shown the world two spirit's joined tween.
Spoken now be quiet, histories turn to speak.

Hitlers Zoo

Time robbed, bombs drained, actions killed.
Brother against brother, north, south, east, west, all the nations tried, many died.
War has fallen, it fell again.
Mussolini, Adolf, Emperor Sun, clashed rekindled, hatred sprung.
Countries, once full of riches, fell down while bombs fell, actions killed.
Starvation of Russia, death in trenches, tanks seeking fodder; children, mother, father, cross the river Styx.
Wolves of the sea carried the Nazi, feasting on shipping, a pack come calling.
Wolves of the cage cried, hungry, thin, wasted on water, there was no eating.
Big cats howled, monkeys cried, bears ripped each others hide, demons in command, where is the answer they were seeking?
Jack boots smashing, sanity crashing, actions killing, animals starving.
A solution to a problem comes to their end.
Meat there was plenty, feasting across German land.
While people starved, the pride of Africa suddenly found the gift.
Trains chugging, black smoke rising, camps full, resources straining, what else could a monster do?
Fresh for them, the meat was fresh, the hunger sated, it all worked for the best.
When Hell came to the world, they fed the animals the flesh.
Gypsy, freak, and of course, the Jew.
Into the maw of wild, they fell dead.
When the demons of war come again, will they be coming for you?
It never ends.
(This is dedicated to the Wisconsin hate wrought at the fair)

Re: He's gone

PostPosted: August 06, 2011, 02:17:38 AM
by Lipinski
Winds are changing

By I'm back

Who am I?
I'll never know.
Who are you?
I'll never agree.
What really is real?
You'll never know.
*** * ** *** ** *
Star child taken by force, forced labor, forced to be made.
Calling home the place the father learned.
Mother naive, young, sexual wants by force, forced labor, forced to be made.
* * *
*** * *** ** *
Nine months years ago, centuries in the making, it became time.
Adoption sounds civil, sounds right, sounds normal, her sounds of pain, forced to be made.
Closure leading to open doors genetic material only lies to those who cannot understand.
I'm back, never will I ever be taken by force, forced labor, forced to be made.
I'm back mother, you'll never know me as my father controls my destiny, my course.
What really is real?
You'll never know.

Re: He's gone

PostPosted: August 06, 2011, 09:31:13 AM
by TaoPhoenix
Robin, do you like these new threads of your poems with some 30 at a time, or are you interested in Big Sprawling Lipinski thread? I had collected a few of your other ones elsewhere, and maybe Rob can help with a thread merge if that's something you'd like to do.

Re: He's gone

PostPosted: August 06, 2011, 01:54:33 PM
by Lipinski

Communication is temporary until long after we are dead.
What we say today is like dust in the wind until, unless, per chance, our words survive to grow.
Johny Appleseed spread his seed, tiny tree's did grow.
My addiction is plain to see, writing is my release, or at least, what I think is me.
I have discovered, it is not about me, Robin, Lipinski, Tom, Dick, or Jane.
It is about what must be released.
However, I'm but a visitor here. This is not my world. As such, I must adhere to the rules.
If what I write is not pleasing, rather fingernails scratching the blackened wall of antique communication, I shall leave.
Overbearing? Yes.
Conceited? Yes.
Vain? Yes.
Ignorant? Yes.
Liar? Yes.
Strange? Yes.
These are all words to describe me.
From Yahoo, to others, I have written. I have been asked to leave. Others would stone me if they could, I smile.
Aphelion was kind enough to show compassion.
Iian was kind in same.
Even others poured gas on my flaming passion.
Enabler of my tormenting disease.
So, in answer to your question via my long winded way, this is your forum, your world, you are master, please, do as you please.
As for what I like to do, that is writing, at least until it controls and kills me.
Until then, I will stick to one thread of sanity, thin as it is, until it is broken and I fade away.
For now, this is what I have written today, after all, it is all only a dream...

Daemon Damned Dream

Word of mortal clay, ashes clinging to life, death only one breath away.
Rejecting the spirit, seeking the way, striving to find the old Way.
Mother or father rejecting, they and you, have nothing more to say.
Finding your answer, or did the answer find you?
Magic is but a word, a word you think you'll find.
You are but of matter, a work of clay, ashes clinging to life, death only one breath away.
Enter my world, Kokb'ael ael tou sin tai, rejected in spirit, old in the Way.
You seek horror? Pain, dark and deep? Cast aside your foolish way and try the old Way.
Simple, so simply to be.
Gather sharp stone of obsidian; go ahead, I'll wait.
Gather both hands now, around the point, thrust up and into your chest.
Feel the pain, watch your entrails spill red, so hallowed, you dread?
You say, "I can't."
You are but of matter, a work of clay, ashes clinging to life, death only one breath away.
You are you because He still has a say, yet, so do I.
Enter my world, my dream so pure; spill your blood for me.
In return, I'll let you enter my dream.
Oh, to hear you scream, it brings an inner feeling of pain.
The ...