F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S

F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S
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- t h e p o e t r y v e n t u r e -
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simple diversity will do amazing things. reading five
different poems, in five styles, by five different
people will make you challenge what defines poetry.
does it have any bounds? Or maybe we should ask, do
we want it to have any bounds?

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VENOM

Empty like a cloudless sky
Darker then a starless night
Forgotten like old memories
Yet still glittering, slithering
a diamond serpent
Enchanting with her beauty
look
but do not dare
to touch
the coldness in her
emerald stare
She slides in delivering a kiss
her taste more potent then the sweetest sin
wrapped up in her essence
overpowered by her presence
She lets lose her bite
releasing your desire
igniting your fire
she remains unmoved
a mass of burning ice
stinging cold
against your skin
feeling the droplets
roll right in
grasping in the darkness
searching for an empty place
you hear her voice ringing in your ear
Venom she whispered as she wiped away
a tear.

Bluerose

RESOLVE: HOW TO ACCENTUATE TRUTH

fleshing and exposed, i am not a television advertisement;
another commodity to have people believe in -
selling me for half of what I could probably be worth.

inner groove and mixed, I am not a stereo-enhanced radio song;
(please, no videos or extravagant media ploys for me)
another record producer to promote my image -
whatever the latest craze dictates.

reissued, reboxed, revised, remixed and rerun -
I am not a re-occurring fad for some fashion trend;
style has gone out-of-style for my dollar's worth.

preaching and divine, I am not a religious conscious;
always confusing proverbs with adverbs and adjectives -
hoping one day people will not need God to save them.

designed and delivered, I am not your morning newspaper;
but when you dissect this commonwealth, words tends to digest -
sad to think that common sense is running a fever
and wants to allow stupidity to decide my standard of freedom.

Indiana Poet Jan. 1, 1998

Fire Within

- to the trees

Looking up, and seeing your beauty,
I wish to embrace you,
though know I shall not.

Disturbing your last days of peace,
is not what I wish to do,
though how I wish things would be different.

- realization

Watching, what I see in the future,
ignites a fire deep within me,
of hatred, and understanding
of a new kind of life.

Now fully realizing what it once was,
that I had turned on,
I really wonder if I would be better off...

- to grandpa

Grandpa, why can they not, just go some other way?
Why must people insist on the easiest method?
Don't they see the beauty you showed me?

A Fire Within me burns,
of the ones that had been taken before,
the ones that will be taken today,
and the ones that will go tomorrow.

- my feeling

Wishing a Fireball, to attack and change,
can you honestly not retreat and think?

A fire within me,
I do not wish to see thee die.
Please help them and I,
to see eye to eye.

- Kamira

when i'm god

i went to god... just to see.
i found out it was always me.
found out heaven and hell were lies.

when i'm god... tha mystery dies.
to many times they tried to blind my sightful eyes.
its no surprise... seeing how the enterprise...
lies... in my...eyes.
hows and whys?
falls and flies... down and rise.
check tha time... its a quarter past nine...
i've got five...until i die.

i shut my eyez tight... fall asleep and awake a new life.
they force fed me... hard they tried...
but i found no truth in those lies... i'm too wise.

u cant serve a dream... a dream serves u...
unless u'r dream is true... and here are a couple clues....

if u cant see it
- u cant touch it
- if u cant touch it
- dont trust it
- if u dont trust it
- get disgusted and say F.U.C.K. it!!

sadia

The Side Show Freak

I. A prodigious wonder, sir!
A marvelous contrivance, madam!
Born of pumice and slate,
Transformed by Ovid
And foretold by Cassandra,
See me and tremble!

II. A bittersweet melody,
But - who knew!?!
Mozart knew. . .
And died. . .
The peaks and depths
And quite plains,
Unmolested and untold;
Counterpoint and divinity;
Swell and sink and a hint
Of knowledge unforeseen,
Yet fiercely guarded!
See me and quake!

III. One in a millennium,
But one of a millennium.
To be envied?
To be emulated?
See me and shake!

IV. The end of this tunnel
Lies in dust
Where for a thousand years. . .
An alabaster face stalks
The sepulcher of life.
And brute Achilles, traitor!
Accident of bee's diligence,
And farther from life
Than even death. . .
But the dust. . . The dust,
Akin to none, knows.
Kalypso still weeps,
But none hear.
Not even me.
For I, encased in stone,
Hear only my own screams.
See me and shake your head.

Screamin'Lord Byron

White Anger

You are the winter of my life.
Cold and grey you make me seek warmth.
No hope of compassion or caring.
Silently you tear my hear out.
The hope of spring rain gone.
Summer heat a long lost fantasy...
Fall, a teaser to the pain you sing.
My physical reaction to your material being
it's a parallel to the hell you bring.
Please.. let me flee...

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(c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author.
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F O U N D E D: October 30, 1997