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Open Poetry #29
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Hallucination
Member
since 2001-03-18
Posts 419


0 posted 2003-10-09 07:57 PM


"I pardon for the spelling errors"

"Kylie"
(01/07/03)

Music teacher said; "treat your instrument,
With the same touch you treat your Valentine!"
"Buying flowers and karts for a guitar,
Just 'bout a little too wierd in my mind?"
Blue haired Kylie stittng up front answered
"A drink or two maybe, but then that's all
Sleeping with a set of string's dog gone wrong"
Then giggled as a soothin' waterfall...

Kylie was a sweet kinda punk lady
Fought her own battles and she fought them well
We'd talk between classes by cig'rette haze
Told me how her life was a living hell
I were the one constant good thing in it
"You don't label folks for the suits they wear"
She said once I was walking her to class
Kissed me on the cheek with lips soft as air

But I haven't seen her since I stepped beyond that silloutte door,
Leaving the music "Wereshipers", like ancient teach', that bad breathed man.
To walk yet another mile down the deserted road of my life,
To let my old guitar speak a language that all understand.
And by saying and doing all the things that she practiced so great
She gave me the one reason to break out off this steal jailhouse gate
Kylie's past voice scribbles down lines, her old mem'ries paints in my mind

The songs she'd sing while lunch was passing by
She'd knock the wind out of me with each word
Which she wrote on a dressing staind napkin
Her writing hand had an itch, had an urge
To show and tell all about who she is
She sang; Each lie's built on some sort of truth,
It's just bend, twisted and boxed up real good
On a shelve that normally read "All Blue"...

Laughed at me and my stories with my dad
Said joking; "Fishing's not an extreme sport,
It's just like chess but with water, boring!!!
Hearin' 'bout it's like Sunday mornin' court.
Sends me smiles ";know he meant the world to you,
But baby, you mean the world to me.
The dreams you have makes dreaming seem so real,
Music boy, in you I'll always believe...

But I haven't seen her since I stepped beyond that silloutte door,
Leaving the music "Wereshipers", like ancient teach', that bad breathed man.
To walk yet another mile down the deserted road of my life,
To let my old guitar speak a language that all understand.
And by saying and doing all the things that she practiced so great
She gave me the one reason to break out off this steal jailhouse gate
Kylie's past voice scribbles down lines, her old mem'ries paints in my mind

Black eyeliner and purple mascarra
Sprinkled with a strong blueberry lipstick
Had artaficell nails in light shadow
Shaved her head once then bought a yellow wick
Dusty ripped jeans and old wholed tight tops
Always greyish socks in her army boots
She wasn't unique, no she was different
The bad outsider with popular roots

Before buying my ticket to the world
I sat her down and requested a song,
A song we wrote in her parents basement,
She stared in my eyes; "So you're riding on!
Ain't this sunsest good enough anymore,
This prerie town's lost the lust for the feats.
Listen, stupid boy, don't you realize,
That you're the beauty who could taim the beast...

But I haven't seen her since I stepped beyond that silloutte door,
Leaving the music "Wereshipers", like ancient teach', that bad breathed man.
To walk yet another mile down the deserted road of my life,
To let my old guitar speak a language that all understand.
And by saying and doing all the things that she practiced so great
She gave me the one reason to break out off this steal jailhouse gate
Kylie's past voice scribbles down lines, her old mem'ries paints in my mind

She began pulling her strings just as I left the corridor,
Sang for the broken hearted her eyes cried like children at war,
Her voice was like needles, Pomped with a "missing you" blues drug,
I sat down to wipe my eyes outside the building on a rock.
'Till nightfall came 'round I thought 'bout where my life's to take my?
So I sat sail for C.A. 'cause L.A's a good place to start....

But I haven't seen her since I stepped beyond that silloutte door,
Leaving the music "Wereshipers", like ancient teach', that bad breathed man.
To walk yet another mile down the deserted road of my life,
To let my old guitar speak a language that all understand.
And by saying and doing all the things that she practiced so great
She gave me the one reason to break out off this steal jailhouse gate
Kylie's past voice scribbles down lines, her old mem'ries paints in my mind

© Copyright 2003 Brian Eggertsen - All Rights Reserved
Snowflake From Hell
Senior Member
since 2003-07-10
Posts 777
My own little Icey Oblivion
1 posted 2003-10-09 09:26 PM


what can you really say other than it was a long but good write

We do away with your kind...I am war I am pain I am all you've ever slein I am tears in your eyes I am truth I am lies.   Dimmu Borgir

Dark Angel
Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095

2 posted 2003-10-10 01:11 AM


Some great images and phrases here Hallucination.

Perhaps using a "spell check" will help with the errors, yes?

Enjoyed.

fate is not just
whose cooking  smells good
but which way the wind blows

(Ani DiFranco)


angelblueyes
Member Elite
since 2003-07-19
Posts 2148
Oklahoma
3 posted 2003-10-10 01:14 AM


This is well penned.
Crystal

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