Overheard in the wreckage

My father is dead and
I am Satan. As tents fall
Crushing you with propane
Lanterns. Acid trips make you
Bite heads and trip over
Drunk traps, losing wallets
And I.D's which burn in
The pit as your identity
Melts away. Your father
May be dead but you
Are just another stupid
Teenage statistic while
I'm the one to clean
Up your wreckage.

Twilight

Purple hues of feeling
Gather troops of lilac
Forcing lavender to hide
As royal purples watch
From mauve castles and
Little amethysts twist
And dance on the eggplant
Asphalt collecting plum coins
For mulberries. So don't
Grape about how no one
Sees you in your violet
Fields with orchid blooms.
Forget. It's Twilight.

Quarks Quirks

Stupidity
Jumping into murals
Moronic
In his love with plastic
Furry
Sheds on my clothes
Chaotic
Catnip covered carpet
Lovable
Waking up beside him
Amazing
Knowing when I'm sick
Forever
My cat, my friend
My Quark

Sparks and Fire

On my face
I pulled the typewriter
Flying apart
Erupting only from the caldera
Yellow fire pitched
I filled a bucket
Burnt holes
Rumbling eruption
Nothing in the kitchen
Felt the heat
The table surface
Ruined after 20 minutes
Fast, grinding heat
I dragged the rug away
And returned with water

Loathing of the lucious cruise ship

Cruise ship you sicken me.
Not just your way with waves,
But the all you can eat buffets,
The lido deck filled with chairs,
The molten chocolate cakes
People order every single night,
The free room service or
On-demand movies. How can
you live with yourself.

The infinite eternal stork bearing gifts (the unconventional sonnet)

Where do stork babies come from,
If not from the storks?
Should it be from hippos
Rhinoceroses? Maybe piglets that
Bring muddied cloths with tiny birds.
Mayhap from the chinks or the chirps
But could it be the storks themselves
Keep such curiosities to secrets only
Hidden in their backwards knees. Or
Maybe we look at it all wrong, Maybe
You order them on the internet, like dolls
Or tools. but perhaps the mystery should
Remain silent and reverent. Or Storks are
Immortal and therefore don't reproduce.

To wed and bear later in life - The 5 minute poem

A jet plane passes
A fight begins.
The air speeds past
The cold fist as blood flies
The hard crack of flesh
To bone. The slap of
Wet death upon your
Knuckles. Leaving
Red paint on your
Consciousness. Time
Stops as the body falls
Kissing the asphalt.
No light shines as
You jump the park
Fence in an attempt
To beat the call of
9-1-1. To beat
The sirens from
Catching you in
The red and blue light.
Capturing you in their
Cage. Just don't get
Blood on the curtains
As you hide from
Press and papparazzi.

Ode to the killer tractor

Oh killer tractor, thirsty for
Blood. Why did you choose
Me to attack. Your large arm
Came down on my ankle
Like an anvil falls on a
Coyote. Your grip, never
Ceasing, shoving my converse
Into the hot sand. Lucky
No bone was cracked, just
Sprained pain shivering down
My limb. My converse, my
Savior, I owe you my
Sole. Dear killer tractor,
Find someone else to chew
In to. Crutches are my
New friends.

5 - choosing a different prompt

Amazing how such little things can make
you so happy. A hamster running in 
his wheel who stops to eat a
snack, then looks at you before
returning to work off the calories.
And yet you smile. Is it the 
whiskers or the beady eyes or 
the way it stands on its hind
legs. Maybe. But life isn't solved
by hamsters and we can't just
hop off the spinning wheel to
take time for ourselves. The 
world doesn't stop for a hamster,
unless you're a 5 year old.

Moor. Based on I never saw a moor by Emily Dickinson

I saw a moor,
I saw the sea;
Yet I don't know how the heather looks,
And what a wave won't be.

I've spoke with God,
And visited in heaven;
Yet uncertain am I of the spot
As no chart was given.

Due to the lack of posting

Ok so (not a poem) just wanted to let my followers know I have been studying for finals at school so I have had a hard time keeping up, however I plan to keep on writing on here till I complete the challenge, and will probably use this for not just my poetry but fiction pieces as well during the summer. Happy reading and I plan to update more tonight :)

Nursery Rhyme

Jacob was a clown
He was 16 and a half
People came to see him
Cause he made them laugh.

ADHD Thoughts

A bitter touch of
Mango sat next to
Andromeda. Is the pope
Catholic? Readers beware
Agape means love. This
Is real life roulette.

Ekaphrasis (missed quite a few days due to deaths)

Based on Pink's Fucking Perfect

Perfect hair
Perfect life
Perfect someone I'm not.

Perfect nails
Perfect guy
Perfectly in the dark

They don't see me
They don't care
I'm not...

If we but linger

If we but linger on
Absent plains while
Wealthy tyrants should
Frolic in their
Horrid wealth and
We the filthy
Beauty of this
World wait in
Blissful poverty for
Some rotten miracle
To change our
Awful luck. Then
Who are we
To question dreams
That young children
Dream in midnight
Slumbers while lingering
On an absent plain.

based from random thoughts from a random mind- Myth

Antigone with zebra nail
Says to Edipus her father
That from your mom I do hail
So shall I not be your daughter

When Pluto looked at the moon
In beauty she doth stood
Her light aglow did make him swoon
And lean against his hood

Should Aphrodite have a pimple
Upon her perfect face
Oh if only life were so simple
To detract from beauty and from grace

And should we mere humans know
Of gods and goddesses fate
We could but only grow
In love and not in bitter hate

Extra since I missed (Pwoemrd)

Confli(ktation

Missed a day

I will die in the Texas
heat, in June, the day
before my birthday, as irony
would be key in my
demise, and doors empty
and solid stand silently
watching the stoic
grave with my
name embellishing
the grey granite.

The Message within

Into the Labyrinth, with soft feather wings
He flew to find the Message within. Where
Days grow cold and Wicked knights seem to
Linger on and on. Until in their
Abyss, sweet crystal reflections scream out
Nevermore my sorrows weep in
this the looking glass.

Black

Her hair
The color of
Obsidian
Her eyes
The color of ice
That melt the core
Of the earth
Her fingers
Caress the words
Of Poe
And I long
To delve into
Her mind
Her soul
Her being.

NaPoWriMo.net challenge

Ok I'm going to be writing poetry for the next 30 days. Lets see how I do :)

-Kitti-