[x]

I was Hercules in a past life,Set the clocks four years back?
Check.
Turn the fucking television off?
Check.
Adjust the volume on the radio?
Check.
Know what it's like to be you?

Well, let's not get carried away...

--

Yesterday,
I invented English;
I discovered Spain
in a hot air balloon
and drove to clinics
to patent electricity.

Yesterday,
I channel surfed the English channel
and developed an allergy to royalty.
And even though I had everything,
I still went bankrupt over medicine
you told my pharmacist I deserved.

--

Today,
I am the King of Clovers
and the Emperor of China.
I am the laziest kind of poet
and the worst liar since Socrates.

Toda

pneumonia is heartbreaks twini) scrawled a laundry list of everything i want for christmas
and the new year
and my next 34 birthdays
and every holiday in the dictionary

they all rhyme with either
must,
or
apart,
or
never,

but mostly i want to open a specially gift-wrapped pronoun
to love and to hold, to cherish and other typical weddingvowbullshit;

we'd watch leaves fall during chinese autumns,
and watch sunflowers blossom during french springs.
in summer we'd go surfing at californian beaches,
and in winter we'd go sk

ii) ng through canadian mountains.

even from african grasslands to italian canals,
i would still cherish the pronoun.
to the fields of

thieves that smash their goodsit's not you,
it's me.
no wait--
it is you.
in that case,
i'll be taking
my life back.

(assuming it still exists)

to err is to learn is to love:i'll be your spelllcheck,
if you keep making mistakes
you want me to fix.

blueprints for fillintheblanksThis is the part where you/i tell me/you:
A. it just won't work out (i'm too fucking lazy to exercise)
B. (break/cut/shred) my [body part] into thirds/fourths/fifths/millionths
C. French expressions meaning the same thing.
dotdotdot
X. (your choice of profanityx1000&repeat)
Y. my/your/our [body organ(s)] is/are {on fire/drowning/asphyxiating}
Z. Epic One-Liner That Everyone Will Quote Saying It's The Best Thing Ever!*
(*this is the best thing ever)
(*this is the worst thing ever)

insert D through W.
insert Greek letters.
insert apathy.
blahblahblahblahfuck

Skip this part:
[add heartache, add pity.
repeat, repeat, repeat.
pret

to throw up on a dream catcherI threw my sighs away when
I threw my sight your way
when you caught my eyes
like a mottephobic butterfly catcher,
so you could throw them in the ocean, where

no matter how many times I throw a line,
I can never catch another fish of the sea:
not because it's unflavored,
but because I'm too allergic
to face your sea
or see your face;
but i would,

if i could...
I'd throw myself into your arms,
but you wouldn't catch that,
since you're too busy catching
everything else.

Caught at the crime scene -–
hands as red as blood spatter –
my wish, your disappointment:
I stole your attention,
you stole my affection;
like K

empty lightbulbs are bad ideaspower on

i remember that ever-so somber spiral staircase of a storm; oh, don't think i'll ever forget the macabre sequence of high-voltage events that forever scarred my luminosity: your weathered rhetoric tripped the stratosphere, and The Sky slid down a flight of frightening silhouettes. thunderclouds climbed through our ozone layer, precipitating the downfall of us. your capricious bolts overcharged and crashed into my murky plane-of-thought. i'm afraid of the grotesque shadows surging through our intertwined veins, yet the whimsical flashes of (im)possibility only blind my hexed eyes from subtle verity.

how many romantic addicts does

i fell in love with the miragei don't believe in numbers.
i don't believe in language.
i don't believe in religion.
i don't believe in science.

because

hypocrites invented math,
and letters are fabricated.
fairytales are for children,
and chemicals don't exist.

i don't believe in art
i don't believe in love
i don't believe in life,
and i sure as hell don't
believe in death,

because

my eyes reflect light, not color.
my brain controls my emotions.
existence is a fucking nightmare
only a coffin can wake me from.

i'm just an imaginary poet;
faithless but not Fateless,
chimeric but not apathetic
(though i love to pretend)

i don't believe in anything,
in

a taxidermist in my spare timeit's always the last week of november when i'm making up statistics to say how awfully uncomprehensible i am. and it's always at exactly a quarter to eleven when i'm writing about nothing except for the vomit in your eyes or the blood in your mouth or another cliche of how pissed off/upset/overdramatic

i am

not in love,
and i am not dressing corpses in your clothes,
and i am not in love,
and i am not lying to 500 strangers right now,
and i am not in love,
and i am not pretending that the sweat in your hair or the vomit on your skin or the blood on our tongues is anything other than some absurd metaphor for

fuck you

because we love shooting starsif we shoot the sky with an ak47,
the stars will bleed comets on Earth

well, if we're dead,
we can't enjoy their light,
and i can't enjoy you

if we shoot the sky with a camera,
the stars will develop into a memory

well, if we share a memory,
it'll be stuck in my head for years

if we shoot the sky coquettish looks,
the stars will be too jealous to flirt back

well, if even the stars envy you,
there's no fucking hope for me

let's just not shoot the stars at all;
my telescope prefers constellations, anyway

well, you'd rather strip Orion's belt than mine,
so i beg you to asphyxiate me with what's
already killing me anyway

ugly hearts of beautiful poets"Oh, how shattered thou hast made me;
thine eyes circumvent mine,
and my archaic tongue fears thy truth so much,
it's hiding from thee in the early 1600s"

and this is the part where you say:

I'm sorry, but look on the brightside

what bright side?

I may not love you, but broken hearts create lovely words

dont write under the influenceDr. Asclepius called me;
he told me i'm bipolar
(i still say it's luxuria)

My prescription?
Fucking medicine.
Take two pills:
Doctor's Orders
(as if anyone actually
obeys those, anyway)

Take another pill.
One for each time
you looked at me,
then two more if
i had looked back.

i'll take one more for that time you
branded fake

your teeth complement my heartmy arrhythmic body
dances on your lips;
skeletal vibrations
shake the bedroom.
antique teapots fall
off the windowsill–
shattering glass,
shattering sound–
as i fuck the edge
of your curtains,
refined velvet drapes
that match your ego,
in size and color and
how easily they rip off,

but your skin matches my carpet
a lot better than empty furniture,
don't you think?

i'll throw a fit out the window
because i'm not fit to be yours.
you'll throw my plastic heart
a way
(your way,
never mine)
out the car door of my uvula.

i'll burn all your silver
and meld it to a bullet
to load in my lovegun.
i'll blow

who will you be tomorrow, lovesome days,
you are a curious girl
--the most curious one
in the world, in fact.
on these days,
you would fuck the storm
to deliver me an umbrella

some days,
all you want is
for pangaea to reform,
for x to equal y,
for us to be miscible,
and for everyone else
to fuck off
and on these days,
you hate your body
for not being right,
but i fucking love you
in spite of the flaws
you don't really have.

i like the days best,
when you're on my bed
and you want me on yours.
these days,
you're more beautiful than ever,
prettier than a fucking rainbow.

but you must realize
how hard that is,
how hard i am,
considering the situa

i do not want you to read thisi do not want to write about
the stars in your eyes,
the fire in your heart,
or fictional romance.

i do not want to go to
the dentist's
or Neptune
or Canada.

i do not want to write
about love
or science
or bones.

i do not want to
write about hips
or your skeleton
or broken clocks

not of simon says,
or truth or dare, of
faraway countries,
footprints in snow,
or eating disorders

not of you,
aquariums,
nightmares,
Greek Gods
or the future

in fact,
i do not want to
be a poet at all.

i'd rather be a
psychiatrist or
or detective
or astronaut
or firefighter–

not talking about crime scenes,
but studying them;

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More from ~ChloroformBoy

left on your answering machineListen, okay ?
Close your eyes and listen.
Are they closed ?
Good.
Now keep them closed and picture me next to you:

I want to be with you so much. When you're with me, holding me in your arms, all I want to do is just stay like that, with you, forever. Then you leave. And as soon as you're gone, I miss you. And when I miss you, as pathetic as this sounds, I just keep thinking about you. And I realise that you could probably have anyone you want. And I wonder why you'd ever settle for me. And this makes angry and jealous and hate myself and just ugh. I don't want to be your burden. You see, whenever I talk to somebody as much as

disappointment isnt a papercutit's eleven numberfucking eleven,
and i'm listening to Fever, and all
i wish is i could smother the stars
with bandages and predictability.

and Vanilla Twilight just came on,
and you just texted me, and all i
can do is cry and hate myself.

Brickbreaker: yes, another rapMattress martial arts
King of Pillow Hearts
Bedsheet combat starts
In 54321

My punchlines and kickdrums
Could beat Chuck Norris' ass
beat the rhythm out Bruce Lee
knock the Chinese out Jackie Chan

I'm good for your body
Call me Dr Pilates
Fiercer than karate
Know you like em extra naughty
So don't go tryna stop me
And don't go tryna top me
Cause I'm a first class hottie
And a little bit haughty
H-A-U-G-H-T-Y
I don't even have to try
I stay fly till I die

Or maybe I'm wax lyrical
Actin' all satirical
Pretend this is a miracle
Empirical ? Illogical.
I'll render you inaudible
As if this was impossible
I make Eminem's jok

peeling bandages, platonic skyThere were no stars in Vegas
until I found you.

Alas, there are other stars
in the sky. Brighter stars,
maybe. But I like my star,
what used to be my star

before we both
burned out

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[x]

returning my body to its owner

by ~ChloroformBoy, Nov 30, 2009, 3:08:02 PM
Literature / Poetry / Experimental / Surrealism

i'm taping these words
on the back of my finger;
i'll wear them like a bandage,
and superglue them to brick walls
vandalized with spraypaint tattoos.

i'm stapling my ears behind my head
and cracking every bone in my body
at least seven times – not stopping
until graffiti pours out my skin
in hemophilic hues – vivid colors,
which are nothing more than light.

i'm writing with the arm of a lunatic;
i'm loving with the heart of a savage.
i'm deauthorizing the public opinion,
and auctioning my tongue off on ebay.

i'm but a crescent moon on a zit of the world's ass

i'm seeing through other people's eyes,
lying with other people's rotting teeth,
screaming with other people's lungs,
and swimming in the populace's tears.

i'm breathing through
other people's noses,
inhaling their parables
and sneezing out their poetry
in the form of journal entries
in the form of wannabe prose
in the form of futile verses.

i'm fucking a demographic of dictionaries
and conceiving mutated verse-children
that will hate me for forcing them into
a society where poems are nothing
more than verses, which are nothing
more than sentences, which are nothing
more than words, which are nothing
more than letters, which are nothing
more than a few strokes of a wrist
tagged with scars.

returning my body to its ownerby ~ChloroformBoy

Literature / Poetry / Experimental / Surrealism

©2009-2013 ~ChloroformBoy

i’m yanking more teeth than a barber
and pulling more hair than a dentist;
i’m a mexid ll u[p

"Survey Says,
not again"

AND THE POLLS ONLY LIE
WHEN THE VOTERS LIE DX

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

Mood: Love

~kitsunesm Dec 6, 2009 Student Traditional Artist

......how do you always manage to write such amazing endings?

Reply

~ChloroformBoy Dec 7, 2009

sdgsg what ? thanks

!

Reply

~UngratefulConfession Dec 5, 2009 Hobbyist General Artist

I really liked this. It was a vicious yet charismatic look at things. Nicely done.

Reply

~ChloroformBoy Dec 5, 2009

asdfssd;
thanks !

Reply

~UngratefulConfession Dec 5, 2009 Hobbyist General Artist

Haha, you're welcome!

Reply

Mood: Joy

~storyofmylife054 Dec 2, 2009

It came out great.
Loved this:
i'm writing with the arm of a lunatic;
i'm loving with the heart of a savage.
i'm deauthorizing the public opinion,
and auctioning my tongue off on ebay.

i'm but a crescent moon on a zit of the world's ass

i'm seeing through other people's eyes,
lying with other people's rotting teeth,
screaming with other people's lungs,
and swimming in the populace's tears.

Reply

~ChloroformBoy Dec 2, 2009

<33

Reply

~storyofmylife054 Dec 2, 2009

Reply

~KilCillian Dec 1, 2009 Professional General Artist

you have a way with imagery

Reply

~ChloroformBoy Dec 1, 2009

thank you so much

Reply