Excerpt for THE ULTIMATE POETRY COLLECTION 2002 - BOOK EIGHTEEN by Monica P, available in its entirety at Smashwords

THE ULTIMATE POETRY COLLECTION 2002

BOOK #18


WITHIN THE LIFE OF AN OUTSIDER


Sometimes,

The black just engulfs,

Like a year of souring milk;


Revulsion, repulsion,

Is all that’s breathed.

You stand up with it,

Because there’s nothing else you can do.


Appetite depletes to nothing,

You feel so empty and alone,

Old friends have passed,

There’s no other number to phone.


You sit as an outsider in a flask,

You wonder where life went,

And you ponder how long,

Till you’re allowed to move,

As you feel your soul being slowly chewed.


December 01, 2002


ANOTHER MISERY ENGULFED DAY


This was a terrible, terrible day,

I feel feral and irritable as I scratch fleas in the fabric’s fray.

“Never again;” I am bound to say,

But again I’, sure there’ll come another bad day –

Maybe not straight away,

But some day I’m bound to have another misery engulfed sway.


December 12, 2002


BREAKING OUT


I’m breaking out of this illusionary web of madness,

Breaking out of this tomb of sadness,

I’m hammering the chains off me,

I’m breaking out I’m running free –

Riding far from misery.


December 12, 2002


NOT MESSING UP


You’re the best thing that can ever happen to me,

I’m not messing up on being free –

Only once in your life,

Do you find arms which name your place,

Washes all darkness from inner and outer face,

Yes, you are the best man in all universal galaxies,

I’m not messing up all opportunity for us to be a we.


December 13, 2002


TIRED OF THE FANTASY


Tired of dreams,

Movie screens –

Tired of the fantasy sea.


I’m tying the end knots,

Removing all the consuming black dots,

Cause I’m tired of how it’s been,

Sickly tired of fantasising.


December 12, 2002


IF I KEEP MOVING RIGHT


I can’t go on ,

Living life like I’ve been –

I want life,

And I want it tonight,


It’s not coming tonight –

But o know if I keep moving right,

I’ll clasp it one night,

Not too far up the road,

As long as I don’t get stuck,

In the pored of the poisonous toad.


December 12, 2002


WOE ME


“Woe me.” I say,

But then I think “Why?”

If I have such a promising future,

Why am I not high?

“Woe me.” I reply.


Shouldn’t I be dancing?

Shouldn’t I be prancing?

All god is round me,

Why have I sunk back to misery?

I guess dreams can only get you so far,

I guess a good body only reaches the shell.

Inside I’m still that lonely shrunken creature,

Trying so hard to make badness expel.


“Woe me.” I say,

But then I think “Why?”

If I have such a promising future,

Why am I not high?

“Woe me.” I reply.


If I used drugs to escape from my bane,

I’d be an addict I’m sure –

Inhaling as black dust strikes again and again;

I know I said I’m whole,

But I never said the blackness is gone.

As long as I’m alone – loneliness and forlorn is bound to drone,

As I drift on curtained waters,

Waiting to see the sign that reads home’s quarters.


“Woe me.” I say,

But then I think “Why?”

If I have such a promising future,

Why am I not high?

“Woe me.” I reply.


December 12, 2002

December 13, 2002


THE LAST FAREWELL


She stands in the mist,

Being moved by another plane in a smooth shift,

Before she leaves,

She whispers

‘Remember me,

remember me,

Don’t forget my grace.”


No tears fall from her eyes,

She knows it’s time for goodbyes,

But she pauses one last time,

To chime

“Remember me,

Remember me,

Don’t forget my inner beauty.”


And then she fades,

Never to come back again,

As she follows her love,

To two’s heaven,


December 12, 2002

December 13, 2002


A CATEGORY YOU’LL NEVER FALL INTO


Memory is a category you’ll never fall into,

If you did I’d roll and die from rue;

I need those pretty purple days,

With the sweet saccharine perfume haze,

While sitting on an open glade,

Laughing in a sunny, full-hearted way,

With you.


December 13, 2002


ALWAYS WAIT


Everyone says to me,

I should date every week,

To fit into societies view of normalcy.


But I do not want that for me,

So I say to those idiots

“Please leave.”


I’d rather abstain from all intimacy,

Cause flat fat is not what I want or need,

It’s not what can make me free.


I know what it is that can free,

And I’m waiting, waiting, patiently,

For your love – the turning of your key.


I’d rather die believing then abandon you –

I’ll hold on to the end for your love so true.


Purchase this book or download sample versions for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-8 show above.)