Below are the 11 most recent journal entries recorded in yes' LiveJournal:

Tuesday, December 14th, 2004
1:44 pm	The stray cat strangler There once was a time (It's been frequently said) When the cats of the alley Where often found dead Caused not by disease Fleas or starvation Not dead form exposure Or e-maciation The poor feline creatures Would always be found Carefully positioned Stone cold on the ground With no sign of bite marks They were never found mangled Close observation Revealed they'd been strangled Their heads hung limp For their necks had been snapped There was fur worn away Where hands had been wrapped Other than that There were no damaged features But the question remained Who was killing these creatures? Murmurs told That lurking at night Was a grave-looking being Which remained out of sight It scavenged through trashcans Fighting off rats To find decent food To provide for stray cats It lived for these felines No regard for itself Eating mildew and mold It deformed from poor health Rarely sleeping It would constantly strive To care for these cats And keep them alive The cats were too many And though it did try It couldn't feed them all So they'd starve and then die To watch the cats suffer Drove it insane For it cared for these creatures Understanding their pain To prevent their slow death Of diminishing health It devised the idea To kill them itself It thought to drown them But all cats hate water, Crushing their skulls Was too gory a slaughter, Without a revolver An axe or a knife It would use its own hands To rid them of life It would hold them And stroke them Then clasp down And choke them With a gurgling sound They'd squirm and they'd flail 'Till each body went limp Right down to the tail Though covered in scratches That stung as they bled It never let go Unless sure each was dead Though distraught and ashamed Of its death causing clutch It strangled each cat Because it loved them so much It sobbed as it lowered Each innocent frame Rotting in misery Tortured from blame A stray cat strangler Was what it'd become Consumed by the hatred For what it had done With few cats left To care for and feed Would the purpose be served For such murderous deeds But soon it was realized All was in vain For of all the stray cats Not one now remained It now faced a horror From which it couldn't hide So with its hands round its neck The cat strangler died Current Mood: cynical (Comment on this)
Wednesday, December 8th, 2004
1:35 pm	Eyelids pasted shut attempts to pry them apart with butter knives, peeled back and flapping, like a pull down curtain revolving around its spindle; crusted edges and rotted tears of prior toils oozing from a sliver of visibility; blood scabbed pin holes of tied away thought twisted and bedazzled; ripped away -dull knives clamping open eyes, wedged into the sockets, sunken in and half perished, the sight is practically laughable Current Mood: amused (Comment on this)
Sunday, November 7th, 2004
1:35 pm	Unattended stagnant stale and dusty, left over and caked onto the faceless apathetic thoughts left on the coffee table. Damp socks drip dry off the edge of the radiator. The radio announces static statistics and tips on good living - suggestions such as not to leave wet clothing on radiators, but little does an electric box know about life. Bare feet wade though thick carpet rugs and brush across a cold unswept wooden floor. Yesterdays french roast waters the plants and rain washes the windows. Splintered wood from old claw marks at the base of a door and a half empty dog dish. Paintings left unfinished and jars of colored water, rotting paintbrushes and fraying bristles. Dreaming of such descriptions yet loosing interest in all things. Sunken in couch cushions and piles of blankets half draped across the floor. Dishes collecting dust in the cupboard and wastepaper baskets full to the brim with disposable utensils, paper plates and last week's sketches. An overflowing laundry bin, t-shirts, towels and too many excuses. Ideas and insights taped to the walls and memories dripping down the sink. Whispers slipping through the windows and melted candle wax sprawled and crackled across the bathroom tiles. Bare legs and a button-up flannel, unpainted toenails concealed inside dingy slippers. The slow smooth notes of a saxophone seep in through a crack in the window framing along with a chilled autumn breeze. Thin walls of the quaint flat separate warm cinnamon air from the icy rain that streams down glassy panes. Dreams escape from behind olive eyes and sift through the streetlights finding ways past the lost thoughts of busy workers to dwell on one well missed. Those well missed are missed most and while there may be relief in solitude there is never comfort in loneliness. unfinished (in deciding of where it is intending to go) Current Mood: nostalgic (Comment on this)
Thursday, August 26th, 2004
12:34 am	(not a new poem but i found it and felt like onlining it) Strike was a match Who was one in a batch - of matches who were not very nice They were cramped up and hot and teased Strike alot - 'till one day he was kidnapped by mice He was greatly harrassed by the questions they asked - but srtike had no mouth to reply He was chewed for a week Yet still could not speak - but he figured he would give it a try What he said was ubsurd Though he didn't say a word - and what happened next came in flashes They declaired him a liar then set him on fire - and strike was then nothing but ashes Current Mood: thirsty (Comment on this)
12:31 am	Back to classes and asses who laugh at your glasses cold smiles and glances who shun your advances tedious lunches people grouped up in bunches unneeded stress about the way that you dress equations and phrases and sleepy dream dazes doodles and scribbles crude gossip and giggles after class and detention thoughts of future intention back to classwork and clicks where most teachers are pricks And homework just piles Forcing lies and denials One year to go this will fucking be slow But the best thing you see is in one year i'm free Current Mood: pessimistic (Comment on this)
Monday, August 23rd, 2004
3:27 pm	Red Bull torro torro slurp glurp awake body shaking mind awaking 110 calories of lightly carbonated liquid surging through my veins fingers tapping mouth flapping yappy dappy slap happy empty can crushed in hand around the block at your command up and down and off the wall fumble tumble trip and fall up again without a glance break into a silly dance blub blub fish bowl tacky wacky outta control babble gabble mindless ramble gibbery gab in mixed up scramble fiddle fidget "LOOK A MIDGET" shuffle the deck and try to bridge it flustered fingers wobble wiggles twitching eyeballs muster giggles muster - hee hee funny word rapid thoughts that flash ubsurd missing muffins on the mind frolick forward then rewind stumble backwards oopsie daisy sudden jolt now feeling lazy slooping drooping dizzy drowzy temples throbbing feeling lousy stomach churning aching head too much spinning keel over - dead Current Mood: chipper (Comment on this)
Thursday, August 12th, 2004
2:20 am	Sagging brain that strains on my thoughts dragging me down to the ground and under, knotting stomach churning twisting, blistering and burning my insides, a rotting and festering soul chewing through me, thoughts body and dreaming decaying and sinking beneath my skin, pain within boiling and bulging through me, devoured by depression and regression into myself within, internal boils and darkness gloom and agony self-devoured, empowered only by my own mind and in fair time spoiled by the sour self-centered bitterness reeking from my tongue and dripping from my diminishing spirit. Wasting away in mind set encourage by God only knows what, self indulged sorrow forged from fantastic nothings voided by excuses bought up and soaked into the shallow cares of surrounding no-ones, menial tragedies used to mask false woes that mound up like lies and with lies and denials bound and strangled and sopped together into mucus puss piles of inner filth, dowsed and drowning surrounded by self pity and searing desire to shed this rancid salty blood soaked flesh and emerge in a new tone of life, free of this looming inner pit of singeing distress deteriorating my insides. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 10th, 2004
10:29 pm	The Lint In a grand greenish room Reeking of must Sat a plum colored chair Quite covered in dust Beneath the cushion A bit to the right [more to the right] Lived a small piece of lint Scarcely in sight It lived there alone In the old rotting chair And with nothing to do [having nothing to do] Would just sit there and stare It would only come out On days when it rained And would sit by the window As drops dripped down the panes It would sit there and sigh As the drops dribbled by And it tried to befriend them At least gave it a try But each attempt failed For rain drizzles away Yet how the lint longed For a raindrop to stay Then one day in April Fortune had struck For a drop blibbled down And this drop became stuck The drop looked around Then noticed the lint And admired its lintiness With its plum colored tint They sat there for moments Yet it felt like much longer And with each passing second Their bond became stronger The two were companions A friendship so strong They though nothing could break it - Till some wind cam along A great gust of wind Brought a brief rush of rain And in the blink of an eye The drop slipped off the pane The lint’s only friend Was consumed by the blast And moments before It was sure they would last So the miserable lint Returned to the chair Where consumed by its sorrow Would sit there and stare, Never again Did it gaze at the rain For the sound of the drip drop Simply brought too much pain - The pathetic piece of lint Forever sulking in gloom B’neath a dusty plum chair In a greenish grand room Current Mood: blank (Comment on this)
9:53 pm	Saltwater I dry my eyes of tears Still a knot in my stomach churns Its been but hours since this ship set sail Into the waters of time I watch a port of memories fade into the horizon How i yearn to return to those warm docks I know not what the distance conceals beneath its waves Yet we must hold strong to brave these waters It is an unavoidable journey But with love as a compass and life as our course All will one day wash upon their destined shore These unpredicting waters may leave me lost at sea For there is no set map to guide my way home to you This rocking ship sways my body forwards then backwards And I can taste the saltwater as it runs down my face Seasickness is how i'll miss you as my insides overturn Cabin fever will drive me wild as inner passions burn But by the north star or the setting sun I will find my way past the oceans of my eyes With sails raised high i will arrive in your arms And we will be together again (Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 17th, 2003
12:50 pm	missing muffins Oh muffins, the soul of all scrumtious delight, so fluffy and delicious, Mmmmmmmmmm.... One would think that if muffins could walk and talk that they would be quite jolly little creatures - but no! In all reality they are dastardly sneaky littlle pasteries just waiting for you to turn your back so they can make their escape. Just the other day, I made some muffins, set them out to cool,thenturned around to pet the cat when I heard a Plop-ka-plump-plump-tumble-tumble, I turned back around and discovered my muffins had plopped to the ground and were rolling along the kitchen floor making their way to the front door. I dove to floor trying to nab my muffins, but there were so many and they were everywhere, I grabbed as many as could but my hands were full, I had to resort to shoving them in m mouth, (in the background my cat playfully batted at a half squished pumpkin muffin), finally, exausted, I had them all but then... I accidentally swallowed. Now my muffins were gone and I was alone once again. I hung my head and sighed, because the same thing happened last week with the doughnuts. I slumped outside, layed on the hammock, and fell asleep. The end Current Mood: sad (Comment on this)
Saturday, June 14th, 2003
5:17 pm	stolen pages ....strange.....very strange, lately many ...strange things have been happening that I found myself simply needing to write them down, but my pages keep disappearing! No madder where I write down my ...strange experiences, they vanish. I’m guessing gnomes but I can’t be certain. Hmmm, I’ve tried writing in journals, notebooks and even on napkins, but alas, my attempts have been futile, *tear, they are continuously being stolen or gasp - EATEN! But no more! If these mysterious culprits or culprit cannot be caught... then perhaps outwitted. (hee hee *sinister glare) I now have the capability of typing my strange findings on the computer (yay buttons!) I would just like to see them try and steal my entries, but not really, so if the culprit is you and you are reading this - I don’t really want you to steal them... really, I was only being sarcastical, I know that’s not a word but... Oh now I’m confused. *sigh This is chewtoyrevenge saying... typing - Until next time Current Mood: confused (3 Comments |Comment on this)