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 - ------------------------------------------------------- Krystalia - 1971-1999 was poetry in our lives, in our hearts: We pay tribute to our friend, may she find peace. ------------------------------------------------------ chosen paths I glance to the side. There walks a man, His smile tentative, unsure. He trudges alongside me, On this path we've shared For what seems like Forever. The embodiment of stability, Of steadfastness, I meet his eyes, Where I glimpse occasional Understanding. I grasp his hand, So as to keep him in step with me. I know this man, The nurturing, the dependability, The weaknesses, the doubts. Comfort is his name. I glance to the side. There walks a boy, A sensual smile, that come hither look Of seduction gleaming. He dances alongside me, On a path all his own, Hands reaching to entice, Eyes daring, mocking, beckoning Me to share his path but offering No guarantees. I reach for his hand, So as not to lose sight Of something so potentially precious. I know this boy, The sensuality, the desire. Lust is his name. I glance behind me, Three sets of footsteps angling Ever closer, Sure, in time, to meet. I glance ahead of me. My vision blurs. krystalia fuckpoetry #4 May I Have This Dance? Two souls collide. Surprised, They stand startled. Mirror images, Each reaches out. Hesitation reigns. Slowly they begin their dance of exploration. Formal at first, Yet even from the beginning In perfect time. They step closer, Ever closer. Perfect partners In this dance Of life and being. Dancing on through the night, Melding, Each hoping The music never stops. -krystalia 02/98 fuckpoetry #13 ------------------------------------------------------- BOOK OF LIARS to Cassandra Devine, whoever he/she/it is. Earthbound to Johnny Boy just picked your message about those balinese ikats you thought I might buy now your voice on my machine is more alive than you are since your daredevil hang glider fell out of the sky Now Armand's looked all over but he can't find your car keys Were they under the tire? Were they under the seat? Because as it stands now your beloved white Aires is fair game for the vandals up on Makapuu Street And your grandmother's number, we know it's here somewhere But Suze can't seem to find it, now she's losing control And so what about her, and little Eldon and Layla and that hypothetical spectre, your gilt-edged soul which defied many perils, in the face of all reason and in so many settings and for all your young years insisting on pure freedom for its too-short season Riding high on its ration of enchantment and fear Over the hill and into the next meadow and on and on and on In a near random universe there are still certain combinations picked out of all the other possible ones that when given some time and the just-right circumstances not too far from the earth or too close to the sun they will dance and they'll spin in the embrace of the trade winds Playing havoc with the hearts and the upturned faces down below Until the laws of curved spacetime, susponed without warning Kick back in with a vengeance for the last act of the show Going too fast on that final wing over as your glider comes tumbling out of the clouds and you clutch at your chest but the chute never opens and they find you there tangled in that white nylon shroud When we get your Grandma's number I think I'll just say to her Your Cassandra is home for Christmas, it was a hell of a ride And I know you'll be showing me those blankets all covered in glory on the hereafter side, saying There was never any question, it was always all or nothing Surf and/or die. mov dx, halturen (aeternum) Broken I shuddered when she breathed my name. I cried when they played our song. I wasted a year of my life. But I'm OK. She said we could date. She spent all night with me. She said "About last night..." But I'm OK. They said be careful, she'd hurt me. They said I was foolish, rushing in. They were right. But I'm OK. Broken in pieces... wondering where to go from there. No place to go but up, can't go any further down. Painstaking progress... But I'm OK sqweak Ode to my Computer Humming like the wind at my window, buzzing like a thousand mosquitoes. With little pale green lights, and odd shaped slots. A big glass wall, emitting more light, Beeping and buzzing all through the night. On top of a pad, a soft gel dark blue (seems too) pad. A mistreated animal, always getting poked on the head. And click, click, click, there are the words, Appearing as if by magic, but not. Tiny little electric waves of ones and zeros, changing so fast, faster, and faster now. Zooming down a copper run on a silicon wafer. Jumping and crashing through resistors and diodes alike. not caring what it runs into it only carries it's number to the appointed destination.... Boom, boom, boom, the wall explodes into colors! 3-D and a 2-D screen. Flatly shadowed to look like it might've been (real), but a mystical way to entertain. A tiny little man runs to the next door, shooting, all along the way. Prompt me again, ask me if I want to quit this violence, my answer will remain, the same. levi beautiful aggression seeping from within tragic desperation only from one artificial sympathy lasts longer than i care to wait deviation from reality seperation anxiety tortuous reasoning why can't we start again? solitude my solace port in any storm invisible arms to comfort me when reality fights back twisted sense of security and again I fall. kel shadow hand My skin has loosened from my body Eyes lost all focus Nerve endings severed I have no sweat No words No emotion Today i am a shadow Let me walk Two steps behind you Hold your shadow hand spleen tentative desire based on heavy speak exploring fourteen ways to say i care virtual mirror, repeats everything, including the parts i dare not tread on self trespess into dark waters i thought didn't exist - areas long since forgotten two candles guide me back from lost waters beacons in a dim soul stretching out aching for help. to be needed. something mea culpa DIVORCE My husband was a bastard at times thoughts of killing him in my mind how to do it, what to say without everyone getting in the way The roof needs fixing & its about time he slips and falls on the powerlines let us swim right before bed better remove my foot from his head Yea husband sure take the car the breakline severed have i gone to far? he has epilepsy at times the new flashing xmas lights are mighty fine there was a gas leak in the house thus he discovered when he found the dead mouse let us go for a cruise and a sail the boom throwing him overboard even did fail I guess divorce it has to be its settlement time, now he's trying to kill me. blaise ------------------------------------------------------- E D I T O R S: jericho@dim.com, geekgrl@attrition.org ------------------------------------------------------- to receive new issues via e-mail, send mail to majordomo@attrition.org with "subscribe poetry". if you do not have FTP access and would like back issues, send a list of missing issues and they will be sent. ------------------------------------------------------- A V A I L A B I L I T Y: AnonFTP: FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK/POETRY WWW: http://www.attrition.org/~poetry ------------------------------------------------------- (c) Copyright. 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