Mardrax

D'oh. That's what you get for typing late at night, with perhaps one too many drinks. Also: the Romans won. Yay! So here goes. ~~~~~~~~ Obsession with things slipping away ever further away until nothing remains but obsessions with deepest interests and shallowest desires remaining yet unfulfilled yet obsessions cling to my mind as I cling back in kind and we bind eachother when nothing remains but obsession ~~~~~~~~~ Time flies, all wibbly wobbly insects

Wait for the ricochet as people stand gawking Eyes cast your way You must have said something that must have been bad Yet now there is nothing Nothing left to be said as you stand there waiting Running thoughts through your head Your heart picks up thumping Turns your face all red as you wait for their dumping You see their stilled tongues preparing to voice Now here surely it comes And they snicker Their laughter is brief but from your discomfort it offers relief ~~~~~~~~ Ancient friends in absentia

Politest of elders, how can you not seethat life's just the greatest reposit'ry of hopes and ideas, strewn over a canvas? Spread by a twister, like this girl from Kansas of whom all you would see were her shoes and her glee. But a blur, fast and white would turn all else in sight forevermore speeding, obscured in their flight to where it might just be blank. Yet let me be frank, when her house set down, she went all over town with monkies that flew after a witch's gown on the most glorious journey for shoes. So set your house down, politest of birds and see how your blank pages form their own words.

Alright, awesome stuff! Keep on going there Snypiuer.

So how are we now folks?

I'm a bit late in doing this, a I apparently dropped off the face of the earth, but well done! Congratulations! It's good to see I've inpired someone to this greatness.

Theme 28: Sorrow Roaming No More; Lament For A Phone My head rested 'gainst the plastic seat before me Tried in vain to block out the sound of babies - Crying their lungs out as mommy tried to hush them - Echoing like bats hunting in my cranium That familiar, empty feeling presided, mixed With that other familiar friend; self-contempt Never far away, but on these days it can't Help but stay away from the front of the stage The stage where I Stood, grasping, touching Myself, looking, seeking, frantically That one bit of - No, it couldn't Be gone. In that one moment, I saw All of my friends fading All of my brainchilds dying All of my feelings passing As I felt my pockets, Once, twice, Three times over Nothing. An hour of frantic searching later And boarding the tram in defeat I was still roaming But no one picked up on it As I faced the loss of the world By myself, utterly.

Theme 27: Foreign What we don't know The kids in the playground outside my window Shouting loudly amongst eachother Arguing the merits of football players Stacks of supermarket stickers in hand That one girl, a chromosome too many Running down the stairs in shocked amazement "Oooh, so bad," As she stares at the ruin of my door "We're okay, dear," and instantly that smile on her face That woman from upstairs, her cooking must be awesome As she drags a behind that could fit me thrice Up three flights of stairs every day to get it And still finds energy to greet me brightly every time All of these people kind, outgoing Nary a one of them afraid to speak out to his neighbour I walk among them in austere black, secluded And people call them foreigners?

Theme 26: Europe All your base Oh bright and shining -Example of the west While somehow in the east Even that follows - and you them What has become of your so proud cathedrals? Testaments to your ability to climb, to a spire Of latching on to your neighbour and pulling Him down as you climb his shoulders? For giants you have never been, but shoulders Of a million men, tamed the land, raised Everyone after you towards new heights I look at you now, quibbling, amongst you Those would drive out the base of our spire Those who think painted glass in fancy windows Will provide a lofty perch for a rosy view Without having the columns to support it "We do not want these," you say, "They steal from our world of brilliant white." And yet you do not see the stone you've charred Is the stone we've built on, every time When someone thought to burn our towers Lying buried deep in solid foundations. While your scope may have broadened Terra Incognita now lies 'neath your feet And those who don't look where they tread Will most surely look where they fall So keep on riding that bull, dear girl But know where it takes you

Theme 25: Lurking It hangs there In the back of my mind My confession It hides there Not wanting to be seen But it burns I keep it there Since despite the pain It warms me. I hush it Still your roar, dear one Don't spoil this.

Also, yeah. That. Amongst other things. I've had the deepest dip I've gone through in years, with no desire to fuel it by solidifying it into writing, and the knowledge that if I would put pen to paper, I would. I'll catch up, dear friends. I promise.

Theme 24: Want Weeks without end I've lulled myself to rest That empty grey feeling inside Me prevailing And crushing out all Will to live and to laugh "What do you want?" The question burned on My lips, trembling in the twilight Of my saviour and my scourge That soft white That shone through the pane That separated us With means beyond mere distance No matter how close you chose to come No matter how hard you tried to shine Your gentle, self conscious light could never Hope to penetrate my wall of self raised black Mixing to a dull grey of mutual misunderstanding Saying I lied in saying you'd be home While the pull of you caused tides in me And still I resolved, each and every day No matter how distant you were No matter fow faintly you shone No matter the pane between us I'd reel you in one day. Keeping casting out my nets Hoping you'd choose to be caught And show me glass walls can be shattered And the dimmest glow's a floodlight up close. But as the moon cast her image On the waters of my roiling seas I'd have to take solace in drifting there A boat in her shadow. And still, every night, I raise my head Let my hair tickle the small of my back As I inhale sea air with the salty pang of tears And howl at her, before jumping in To swim, basking in her glory.

*Shrug* I haven't quite been managing daily myself, and James has had a few days of outage as well. Don't worry about it. Either way, you've nothing to live up to. You're doing this for you, not us. (And perhaps a t-shirt and drinks at the end ) And kudos for what you've been doing so far. Impressive.

Theme 23: Distasteful Corruption Part 3: Wrongful Decompression Mothers and children of quiet suburbia Since this war started we've barely heard all o' ya But now that it's over, you all rush to the streets Cheering and hollering over some old man's death While all are unseeing that is you he defeats Why don't you remember there is always a Seth? Are these now your values, so pure and so just That you cheer as a life is ground into the dust? Are these now the mores, so free and so true That you'd wish for your children to carry beyond you? I sit here, laugh quietly, ashamed of my mirth Ashamed of my uncaring, unfeeling smile As the earth's 'proudest nation' shows off its dearth I might chuckle and snicker, but I still cough up bile.

Theme 22: Mother (Yay, week 3 done!) Corruption Part 2: Peace of the Pie She turned on her heel Her summer dress whirled The kids ran with a squeal Back into mommy's world To sit down at their table And gobble their cake With whipped cream, if able And as mommy opened the window out wide They looked at the brightly lit playground outside And heard the phone ring, heard it ring twice And saw that expression upon mommy's eyes And they heard daddy's voice grow ever so grim "Hello honey, kids. It's over. We've got him."