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    poetry


    dotsJournal: By Xdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: In Love

    WHITE GIRL

    she's blonde she came along the sidewalk
    leave a trail of blue and black
    up to you fighting back
    steel chains a noose of charms on our necks
    i find nothing when we talk and sit
    blue heart passion and watch the set
    easy to fall part of your skull starts to break away
    a cheaters walk down the block behind this evil street she's a white girl
    i'm living with a white girl
    nineteen
    missing her man for an old girl
    drain every beer left over at home and
    listen to ghosts in the other room
    why not you're alone inside his keeping
    i'll replace your drunk old man
    sit in the parking lot and hold your hand
    easy to fall part of your skull starts to break away drugged and in love out at a club pulling me outside

    ...Created 2005-06-22 15:22:58

    dotsJournal: by liz phairdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: In Love

    You go on ahead, honey
    You have a good time there
    You make me feel funny
    I'm no ordinary lover or friend

    I believe we have things to do
    I believe in myself and I believe in you
    I believe when I sleep you are near to me
    I believe when you sleep I am near to you

    You walk out of the room with your hands so deep in your pockets, I don't
    Recognize you
    You say you're a ghost in our house and I realize I do think I see through you

    It's a death in our love that has brought us here
    It's a birth that has changed our lives
    It's a place that I hope we'll be leaving soon
    And I fear for the year in his eyes

    And it goes around in circles: one night is lovely, the next is brutal
    And you and I are in way over our heads with this one, it's hard
    To admit it, but you hold me and I can't feel you
    We hurt but we smile
    I promise I'll make it back when the summer has warmed me awhile

    ...Created 2005-06-20 22:47:07

    dotsJournal: by primusdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Relaxing

    "I remember as if it were a meal ago"

    Said Tommy the Cat as he reeled back to clear whatever foreign matter
    may have nestled its way into his mighty throat. Many a fat alley rat
    had met its demise while staring point blank down the cavernous barrel
    of this awesome prowling machine. Truly a wonder of nature this urban
    predator. Tommy the cat had many a story to tell, but it was a rare
    occasion such as this that he did.

    "She came slidin' down the alleyway like butter drippin' off a hot
    biscuit. The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in
    even the oldest of Tigers that hung around the hot spot in those
    days. The sight was beyond belief. Many a head snapped for double,
    even triple, takes as this vivacious feline made her her way into the
    delta of the alleyway where the most virile of the young tabbys were
    known to hang out. They hung in droves. Such a multitude of
    masculinity could only be found in one place... and that was
    O'malley's Alley. The air was thick with cat calls (no pun intended)
    but not even a muscle in her neck did twitch as she sauntered up into
    the heart of the alley. She knew what she wanted. She was lookin'
    for that stud bull, the he cat. And that was me. Tommy the Cat is my
    name and I say unto thee...

    Say baby do you wanna lay down by me"

    ...Created 2005-06-09 18:02:04

    dotsJournal: by nick cavedots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Lonely

    O'Malley's Bar
    I am tall and I am thin
    Of an enviable hight
    And I've been known to be quite handsome
    In a certain angle and in certain light

    Well I entered into O'Malley's
    Said, "O'Malley I have a thirst"
    O'Malley merely smiled at me
    Said "You wouldn't be the first"

    I knocked on the bar and pointed
    To a bottle on the shelf
    And as O'Malley poured me out a drink
    I sniffed and crossed myself

    My hand decided that the time was nigh
    And for a moment it slipped from view
    And when it returned, it fairly burned
    With confidence anew

    Well the thunder from my steely fist
    Made all the glasses jangle
    When I shot him, I was so handsome
    It was the light, it was the angle

    Huh! Hmmmmmm

    "Neighbours!" I cried, "Friends!" I screamed
    I banged my fist upon the bar
    "I bear no grudge against you!"
    And my dick felt long and hard

    "I am the man for which no God waits
    But for which the whole world yearns
    I'm marked by darkness and by blood
    And one thousand powder-burns"

    Well, you know those fish with the swollen lips
    That clean the ocean floor
    When I looked at poor O'Malley's wife
    That's exactly what I saw

    I jammed the barrel under her chin
    And her face looked raw and vicious
    Her head it landed in the sink
    With all the dirty dishes

    Her little daughter Siobhan
    Pulled beers from dusk till down
    And amongst the townfolk she was a bit of a joke
    But she pulled the best beer in town

    I swooped magnificent upon her
    As she sat shivering in her grief
    Like the Madonna painted on the church-house wall
    In whale's blood and banana leaf

    Her throat it crumbled in my fist
    And I spun heroically around
    To see Caffrey rising from his seat
    I shot that mother fucker down

    Mmmmmmmmmm Yeah Yeah Yeah

    "I have no free will", I sang
    As I flew about the murder
    Mrs. Richard Holmes, she screamed
    You really should have heard her

    I sang and I laughed, I howled and I wept
    I panted like a pup
    I blew a hole in Mrs. Richard Holmes
    And her husband stupidly stood up

    As he screamed, "You are an evil man"
    And I paused a while to wonder
    "If I have no free will then how can I
    Be morally culpable, I wonder"

    I shot Richard Holmes in the stomach
    And gingerly he sat down
    And he whispered weirdly, "No offense"
    And then lay upon the ground

    "None taken", I replied to him
    To which he gave a little cough
    With blazing wings I neatly aimed
    And blew his head completely off

    I've lived in this town for thirty years
    And to no-one I am a stranger
    And I put new bullets in my gun
    Chamber upon chamber

    And I turned my gun on the bird-like Mr. Brookes
    I thought of Saint Francis and his sparrows
    And as I shot down the youthful Richardson
    It was St. Sebastian I thought of, and his arrows

    Hhhhhhhhhh Mmmmmmmmmmmm

    I said, "I want to introduce myself
    And I am glad that all you came"
    And I leapt upon the bar
    And shouted out my name

    Well Jerry Bellows, he hugged his stool
    Closed his eyes and shrugged and laughed
    And with an ashtray as big as a fucking really big brick
    I split his head in half

    His blood spilled across the bar
    Like a steaming scarlet brook
    And I knelt at it's edge on the counter
    Wiped the tears away and looked

    Well, the light in there was blinding
    Full of God and ghosts of truth
    I smiled at Henry Davenport
    Who made an attempt to move

    Well, from the position I was standing
    The strangest thing I ever saw
    The bullet entered through the top of his chest
    And blew his bowels out on the floor

    Well I floated down the counter
    Showing no remorse
    I shot a hole in Kathleen Carpenter
    Recently divorced

    But remorse i felt and remorse I had
    It clung to every thing
    From the raven's hair upon my head
    To the feathers on my wings

    Remorse sqeezed my hand in it's fradulent claw
    With it's golden hairless chest
    And I glided through the bodies
    And killed the fat man Vincent West

    Who sat quietly in his chair
    A man become a child
    And I raised the gun up to his head
    Executioner-style

    He made no attempt to resist
    So fat and dull and lazy
    "Did you know I lived in your street?" I said
    And he looked at me as though I were crazy

    "O", he said, "I had no idea"
    And he grew as quiet as a mouse
    And the roar of the pistol when it went off
    Near blew that hat right off the house

    Hmmmmmm Uh Uh

    Well, I caught my eye in the mirror
    And gave it a long and loving inspection
    "There stands some kind of man", I roared
    And there did, in the reflection

    My hair combed back like a raven's wing
    My muscles hard and tight
    And curling from the business end of my gun
    Was a query-mark of cordite

    Well I spun to the left, I spun to the right
    And I spun to the left again
    "Fear me! Fear me! Fear me!"
    But no one did cause they were dead

    Huh! Hmmmmmmmmm

    And then there were the police sirens wailing
    And a bull-horn squelched and blared
    "Drop your weapons and come out
    With your hands held in the air"

    Well, I checked the chamber of my gun
    Saw I had one final bullet left
    My hand, it looked almost human
    As I raised it to my head

    "Drop your weapon and come out!
    Keep your hands above your head!"
    I had one one long hard think about dying
    And did exactly what they said

    There must have been fifty cops out there
    In a circle around O'Malley's bar
    "Don't shoot", I cried, "I'm a man unarmed!"
    So they put me in their car

    And they sped me away from that terrible scene
    And I glanced out of the window
    Saw O'Malley's bar, saw the cops and the cars
    And I started counting on my fingers

    Aaaaaah One Aaaaaah Two Aaaaaah Three Aaaaaaah Four
    O'Malley's bar O'Malley's bar

    ...Created 2005-06-06 23:42:31

    dotsJournal: by iggy popdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Head Aching

    The Passenger

    I am the passenger and I ride and I ride
    I ride through the city's backsides
    I see the stars come out of the sky
    Yeah, the bright and hollow sky
    You know it looks so good tonight

    I am the passenger
    I stay under glass
    I look through my window so bright
    I see the stars come out tonight
    I see the bright and hollow sky
    Over the city's ripped backsides
    And everything looks good tonight
    Singing la la la la la.. lala la la, la la la la.. lala la la etc

    Get into the car
    We'll be the passenger
    We'll ride through the city tonight
    We'll see the city's ripped backsides
    We'll see the bright and hollow sky
    We'll see the stars that shine so bright
    Stars made for us tonight

    Oh, the passenger
    How, how he rides
    Oh, the passenger
    He rides and he rides
    He looks through his window
    What does he see?
    He sees the sign and hollow sky
    He sees the stars come out tonight
    He sees the city's ripped backsides
    He sees the winding ocean drive
    And everything was made for you and me
    All of it was made for you and me
    'Cause it just belongs to you and me
    So let's take a ride and see what's mine
    Singing la la la la.. lala la la [x3]

    Oh the passenger
    He rides and he rides
    He sees things from under glass
    He looks through his window side
    He sees the things that he knows are his
    He sees the bright and hollow sky
    He sees the city sleep at night
    He sees the stars are out tonight
    And all of it is yours and mine
    And all of it is yours and mine
    So let's ride and ride and ride and ride
    Oh, oh, Singing la la la la lalalala

    ...Created 2005-04-10 20:54:31

    dotsJournal: milo stikesbackdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    hay baby want you lie down by my side?

    hay baby want you lie down by me?

    ...Created 2005-03-23 10:39:15

    dotsJournal: on the flipsidedots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Thinking...

    well i'm leaving...i don't know never been to great with good byes...some of you liked my stuff and some of you didn't but it's all the same. this isn't the end of my writing carree this is just me leaving i am still a writer and always will be

    like i said i'm no good with good bye..but who is?

    so on the flipside

    ...Created 2004-11-03 22:19:01

    dotsJournal: candian vodakdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Thinking...

    man it's been to long...

    ...Created 2004-11-03 19:06:57

    dotsJournal: Secretly timiddots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Thinking...

    The best explanation for what Liz Phair means to me came from my most recent heart brake. We where sitting and talking about Bob Dylan, and she said (I remember this quite vividly despite the lapse in time) "Bob Dylan is to me what Liz Phair is too you." That stuck with me, I mean look at me months later I still remember it enough to write about it. I remember it because Liz Phair played such a huge role in that relationship, and weather Molly knew this or not she did know that Liz Phair was a huge part of my life.

    It's hard to explain because so much of her music has a special significance to me, when I was in the seventh grade I could get to sleep with out hearing side B of whip smart, in the ninth grade I realized that I was a hopeless romantic and in reference to the song a "boyfriend" while listing to fuck and run in the shower. Most recently (in the tenth grade) I came to the conclusion that Liz Phair is in fact more notable in my mind then Ray Bradbury or Jesse Bernstein.

    So when did this fixation start? In the seventh grade when Liz Phair became my cure for insomnia? As far as I can figure it was in the summer of my eighth grade year when my brother was institutionalized. I saw Liz put out a new album and bought it using gift cards and borrowed money. I went to Fred Myer with designs to buy her new album and a Pixes album, I choose Liz Phair instead of the Pixes for the sole reason that I thought her cover art was more impressive.

    "Liz Phair" self titled was a constant for the rest of that summer. Everything that happened, good or bad, had Liz as a soundtrack either in my head or on the stereo. It was in this time that she cultivated in my mind, became more than just a artist but also a peer. This isn't real, well it is all this happened but this is just me working out thought one day I will re write this…but for now this is what I've got.

    Tuesday, November 02, 2004 9:01:51 PM

    ...Created 2004-11-02 23:03:39

    dotsJournal: dead dogdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Head Aching

    i'm not the kind of poet that will write about a tree, that is just so fucking beautiful, i not that kind of poet but i don't know what kind of poet i am...

    i just took a shower my first in days, i washed away the stink of women and seman, than i eat a pineapple which my mother purcured in a place fifty states away

    god i'm tired

    ...Created 2004-10-30 15:53:45

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


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