F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S ------------------------------------------------------- - t h e p o e t r y v e n t u r e - ------------------------------------------------------- I have had a bit of a break, and now returning, not quite with a vengence, but at a snails pace, until my life finds some normality again. Anothers words, where we find strength, courage, sorrow and determination. poetry is all around us. how it affects us is up to you. ------------------------------------------------------- Cyberwar Your whole career anti .mil But realize armies kill. Leaders use you as they will. Now we hack China for thrills? Learn then fear escalation Why front for either nations The truth is there so face it, Defacing fixes not shit. Those Cyber Elite Cattle New age of Saber Rattles The Politics of battle? The rhetoric and prattle!! Hacking but saving backup's, One reboot and their back up, Meanwhile the tension adds up, whole situations fucked up. ONE SPECIES ONLY ONE RACE Talking feces shows distaste. Angry atoms kill this place. Just so you could save some face. Us and Them hackers unite! Take their lies and make them right, Conceptualize our plight, We all lose if we must fight. TheMo-Man Tears Cried For Another Has Died A single, red, rose petal falls effortlessly to the earth, searching for a place to lay. As soon as it hits the ground, the wind violently blows it away. Now with the petal gone, the surroundings begin to set in. With a dark and grave atmosphere, the funeral will now begin. Now the rose petal is gone, but a tear will take its place, as it slowly beings to settle in my eye, soon after, streaming down my face. One turns into two, two into four, four into eight, too many to count anymore. These tears will take the petal's place, because they can't be blown away. They hit the earth and sink into the body, deep inside. As I shed these tears in misery and pain, for another one has died. -It makes no difference if this reaches publication, just the intensity of writing my feelings of a dead friend on paper ill do justice itself... ...or so I hope. -damasa I never knew how someone could feel alone lying right beside you Thank you for teaching me that. I never knew what is was to be miserable every day of every week of every month Thank you for teaching me that. I never knew what it was to feel so suffocated that it was almost painful to take a breath Thank you for teaching me that. I never knew what it was to love someone while realizing the best thing to do was leave Thank you for teaching me that. I never hurt someone so badly that they couldn't utter a civil word Thank you for teaching me that. I never learned to lash out in total anger wanting only to hurt and not to heal Thank you for teaching me that. I never learned what it was to want to hate in order to want to heal Thank you for teaching me that. I never knew what it was for someone to be so selfish, so consumed in their hatred that they couldn't lend a hand Thank you for showing me that. I never thought I'd ever want to not speak to you again Thank you for showing me I was wrong. -kbh Concieve the Rational. We have our ideas concieved from the air we have our ideals carved from whats fair we see out life falling away and somehow it doesnt matter. Not anymore. Not when we have something else something to hold onto a truth a thought a belief in what we are a knowledge of what we've got all we've built and learnt passes before us. But what does it mean will you ever find it? Or guess the answer who will tell you it's truth you seek it but will you can you find it find it from inside or perhaps in the word the word they all have but refuse to see, hear believe. It's brought to you at birth your own conception a rationality of Gods will a fable or a dream? a testement to it all a silent inner scream. You'll run your youth curse your adolesence mourn your adulthood and die in reflection. What does it mean? You all have the answer but when the truth comes will you really want to know? Mizt. Story Weaver - Part III Just the other day, I realized the play. You saw me and cast me, into a part that you craved. Little did I realize, that you only spoke lies. Lining your story with fear, lacing it with uncertainity. You made one thing clear, that you were the hero. I was the one in the mess, and you were going to buy me a dress. Take you at your word, when you hadn't even spoken with the one that had the right, to make that deicision. Little did I know, that I was just a part. A mere actor in your heart. Something to capture. Take me and work me, into a plot that's twisted, only to end up at your side. There was only one goal -to end. The story you told, rhymed with the old. How was I to know? That you were so cold. I was told, and I warned, yet there was something ... that was a base of trusting. Call it fear ... disgust. All leading to this disguise, that you promised that I would rise. Not letting them harm me, nor distract me. Tossing a net over me, you thought you had won. For you even got to feel me. Yet, time has passed. All stories eventually end. Didn't you know that? Characters are controlled, but my part was not. For if it were, I would not be here. You would not be there. We would be wherever. Story weaver, you took a chance, pulled a string, and with a glance ... You let the seedlings of the story fall. Landing in my mind. Playing upon my lack. Here we all are, scattered about, and now to always doubt, except that you will never have me. Maybe you reached the climax, the chances you wanted, you took. Now there's only reaction. Perhaps it turned, the way you wanted it. Yet, somehow, I doubt -- I know you still want. A cry in the night, a whimper, a cringe. You still long ... for me to be at your side. Yet, you played me, body and mind... guarded heart - thank God divine. Haunting me, as I go to sleep, each and every night, I will release you soon. With no creature of the dark. You weaved a story, that could only end, with us on oppisite sides. Because, you see -- you didn't have my heart. Now that I have my body, slowly gaining where it should be. Now that my mind is clear, and I see the things where they are... I realize the story only continues, as long as I still play hopeful, to this wish that you cast that night. So I close the book. Shutting the lights off, writing a final line, I will no longer play, a part in the story you weaved. Past is past, light is dark, dark is light. Blessed be and merry meet. Until the weaver of the ultimate story, shall I greet. Close your eyes, and let me go, as I will never return. Story weaver, lying there in disheveal, work your lines and plots, to some other. - Kamira (c) Copyright February 26, 2001 - Monday The Gift oh you lied to me yet again you stand here and assure me its not the same i must laugh as i agree you look confused, you have yet to see as time goes on you will understand you delt your cards and lost the hand you think i want you back with me? forget it mate, you set me free you gave me something i most desire through your deceipt and burning fire a seed you planted deep inside bringing forth a beautiful child. Blaise ------------------------------------------------------------ E D I T O R: geekgrl@attrition.org ------------------------------------------------------------ to receive new issues via e-mail, send mail to fuckpoem-request@attrition.org with "subscribe" in the subject. --------------------------------------------------------------- A V A I L A B I L I T Y: WWW: http://www.attrition.org/~poetry ---------------------------------------------------------------- S U B M I S S I O N S: e-mail geekgrl@attrition.org with the subject: Poetry submission all e-mails that are not in a ascii text format will be rejected. ----------------------------------------------------------------- (c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author. ----------------------------------------------------------------- _______________________________________________ fuckpoem mailing list fuckpoem@attrition.org http://www.attrition.org/mailman/listinfo/fuckpoem