i wish i WAS(!) batman (theyesyesyall) wrote in poet_antipoet,
i wish i WAS(!) batman

hm.. so, application?

1. Name: tawm
2. Age: eighteen
2. Three to five favorite poets: saul williams(whom i reccomend to everyone), jim morrison(so call me trite), dylan thomas, colin glendon, and i know he's not a proclaimed 'poet' but aesopROCK.
4. Reason for wanting to join this community: i enjoy writing, i do it more than i notice. i love words, and constructing them to actually form a visual or something just said cleverly. eh, plus i like to read others work and discuss writing with others.
5. Three poems by which to decide admittance:i know you said three.. but i put four.. apperantly. sorry.

if you came any closer
i'd light you on fire
with that cigarette that
graces those lips
spoken in only exile
were your reasons
behavior is irrellevant
when the mannerisms
are solid to the touch
breaking only for the
dialogues we build
maybe not even then
the skyline would drop
from our sight and
the stars may just fall
out of place maybe
for a second or two
and the ground we
stand upon becomes
frail and weak
when nothings around
there wouldn't be much
holding back the breath
to release the screams
of shock as our arms
bend and break from
pressure built up at
high altitudes
our spines align
and our eyes fade
we don't need them here
just soft to the touch
our skin is and the
distance felt between us
is minimal at best
so, as these blankets
close themselves to us
you can find the rest
of our dreams
hidden inside our heads.

watch while i draw out
these things that have gone wrong
in small stick figures
and clouds above the house on the hill
up in the corner there
next to the smiling little sun
can you see me standing there?
waving to you.

could i tell you something
about what i know to be true?
what it is to open arms
to nothing but pillows and blankets

baby, we know it's so unfair
but there's nowhere to go tonite.

the clouds suffocate the sky
never letting up for it would see
what dwells so far below
isn't merely a figment of it's imagination

this is where i bring myself
when the days haste is exhausted
and i can't breathe until
it bends it's will back for me

i'm sorry, dear afternoon
but you're not choking me
your grip isn't at all tight
and my hands want to fight.

plead with me for shelter
but, this isn't your home
come back to me
on another day, i'll waste it
so gratuitously...

i fear the essence
your disgust would bring me
calling and calling
to break down intentions
she sang
for me to decipher my calling
planting countless memories of growing wonder
a wide eyed persuasion
sending me forward to confront my wanderlust
consistant with hellacious contraptions
she swore again upon my name
dreaming to destroy another cautious salesman
for i am but a humble dreamer
falling in love with breathless betrayl!
luring my visions to an untimely death
causing tremerous evasion
with eyes like the rain
connected through jerky penetrations
disassembled by our words
and consistant still
with sheltered dealings
through mother earth's grasping knowledge
shining still through blackened twilight
scowered by her essential demeanor
and spending still an adventrous calming deviance
ironically enough seen through belligerant memories
she said she'd regain the potency
beyond stars
rotten and riddled with wishbone sufferage
i am but a humble dreamer
i am but a distant cousin of tomorrow
taking what i can from passers by
and here i stand with child-like laughter behind me.
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