My random writings

Discussion in 'The Artist's Corner' started by Goopus, May 6, 2011.

  1. Either read or don't. I don't care. I have only one request. If you're going to be a douchebag and flame me, take a moment to consider what you're doing. Do you have talent to write? I doubt it. Shut up and enjoy.

    This first piece is sort of a song/poem called I'll Haunt You. I'm not quite sure yet if it's a song or a poem. I'm leaning towards poem. It has a bit of a double meaning that I'll explain after I copy it down here. Without further ado: I'll Haunt You.

    Tears fall down in slow motion
    My gasps for breath are coming up empty
    I don't know what is real
    But I know just how I feel
    I feel like I'm drowning.

    These blacked out and blurry memories
    They haunt me
    Guilty ghosts and bitter toasts
    To a life ill spent
    I do repent...

    I don't know which way is up
    I know I'm going down
    I keep swimmin'
    And I keep kickin'
    But I still.. keep.. sinking.

    Can't stay afloat
    Staring up at you
    Through eyes so fogged
    Hey hey, why....

    And I'm still thinking
    How I judged you wrong
    Misinterpreted your theme song
    You murdered me
    And looked the other way.

    All I'm trying to say is
    I'll haunt you.

    Now, about that double meaning explanation I promised... It's going to have to wait until I smoke this bowl. Give me a second, blades. I know you're eager to hear my explanation. I'll be a bit more friendly after I get a bowl in me, though. Gonna head to -- fucking awesome by the way -- and look up Water's Edge by Seven Mary Three. Such a badass song.... It... kinda relates to one of those meanings that I mentioned, actually.

    It's the more obvious meaning, in my opinion. A woman is staring up at the man who had drowned her as she breathes but her lungs are flooded with ice-cold water instead of oxygen. She's dying, and these are her last seconds. Her last thoughts are not clearly about her life or her family or her friends. They are about coming back to haunt her murderer. What a remarkable woman. Why did I make the character in the song a woman? Well hell, I have issues.

    Speaking of my issues... The other meaning kind of relates to that. I've felt like I'm drowning recently. I can't breathe. I'm really confused. I'm probably having a nervous breakdown hahaha. It sucks. It's horrible. Sooo.. that's the other meaning to that poem. All I can think about is coming back to haunt those that have done wrong with me.

    On that cheery note, let's move on to my next piece, entitled Relapse:

    Tunnel vision....
    My world collapsing....
    I can't stay on target...
    I'm relapsing....
    Time stops elapsing....

    I'm addicted to the sound....
    I've gotta have the sight....
    I can't stand to miss the smell...
    I can't go without the fright...
    I'm addicted to murder....

    I wrote that while listening to Hurt by Nine Inch Nails. A very short but powerful piece, in my opinion. It's about a guy who is.. well, addicted to murder.

    Oh, me and my brother also wrote a diss song about each other. One each.

    I'll post "He's An Odd One" Mr. Snitch's first. Yes, that is a strange nickname. Yes, I am aware of that. Long story, won't shorten it for ya. Anyways, here's Spamuel's diss to me.

    The name is S.A.,
    I would hope you would never forget,
    I'd hate to have to bust that door down,
    and make you have to eat these fists

    You think you got rhyme,
    You think you got a spec of style,
    ill show you how weak you are in this game,
    Yo bitch be on my dick in a lil while..haha

    No ceilings mother fucka good morning,
    Dick in yo mouth while you yawnin
    Im gone and,
    you left with no leg to stand

    I got blunts on blunts on blunts,
    Last time you saw this much green,
    was when you were watching ninja turtles,

    Man, suck my clip,
    swallow my bullets,
    and dont you slip..

    Life is a gamble
    when its all about the poker chips,
    Do you want a dose of this?
    Cause i will make the most of this

    I swear you cant fuck with me,
    but I could fuck yo girl,
    and make her nut for me, slut for me, kill for me, then steal for me,
    and of course it will be yo cash,
    and murder that bitch,
    and send her body back to yo ass

    And my retaliation...

    Hey bitch, you think you run this shit
    You ain't even close to being relevant
    Your punk facade is irrelevant
    I'm the king, you're fucking mistaken

    I don't claim to be the smartest
    I don't claim to be the coolest
    But I rule my world
    Even if I don't live life to its fullest.

    I think it's a better existence at times
    I like being alone and writing rhymes
    I blaze up at home and get to know myself
    I don't need to hang out with friends
    And leave loose ends.

    I don't know how to end this rap
    My mind is still reeling from your little piece of crap
    Man, shit I got pretty personal with this shit
    But I'm half-lit
    So fuck it.

    Oh I also wrote the beginnings of an emo song. I got interrupted and had to close it so I saved it really quick. I was under pressure so I just typed "A Fucking... Song." I guess that is the title, for better or for worse.

    A Fucking... Song

    This lack of self-esteem is overwhelming
    These haunting ghosts of memories
    Are tearing me apart
    I can't even begin to tell you
    How many times I wish to stop my heart.

    Dear God, that's super emo.

    Anyways guys that's all I've got for now. I'm sure I'll have some more bizarre shit for you soon. Tune in next time.
  2. Righteous mate! Wouldn't think to flame you thatd be shameful wonderful work youve got there glad ur putting it out there! :D
  3. Sorry man, it's just that I've been flamed on other sites for similar writings and I'm a bit wary. Thank you very much for your comment and praise.
  4. Writing is writing. People have no right to pass judgement on it's content when it isn't meant to sway anyone to any sort of cause. Stay high keep writin mate! :smoke:
  5. Thanks a lot, man. I'm hoping to get some fans here.
  6. I can dig it bro. Cool stuff.
  7. Here's a poem I cowrote with a girl.

    Broken Strings

    She woke from a perfect world
    The beauty slipping away as her eyes focused
    She realized it had been all a dream
    Her heart sank and she tried to grasp
    What little she could remember.

    It was fading away, with little tendrils straggling
    The sun shone through her window
    Reminding her of reality
    She sat up, wiped the tears away
    She can't bear to face another day
    Another day of pain and lies.

    This sense of dread weighs heavy upon her heart
    She puts one foot towards the floor
    Letting it dangle there
    She doesn't want to walk towards the door
    She doesn't want this any more.

    She holds her head in her hands
    And closes her eyes
    She knows they'll be here soon
    To take her back
    To try to make her better.

    They call this a place for healing
    But for her, it is a cell
    She's trapped there
    With only her thoughts
    To keep her company.

    They come in twice daily
    To hold her down
    And give her things to "help" with the pain
    It only makes it worse
    She wants to die
    This isn't a life she ever wanted to live.

    Why couldn't she just be like everyone else?
    Happy, is that so hard?
    Why couldn't she smile, laugh and play?
    Why are her arms so scarred?

    What was wrong with her brain?
    Why did this happen to her?
    Why did they proclaim her to be insane?
    Why couldn't they let her live among the beauty?

    This was no sort of life
    To be locked away
    From everything she cared about
    This was no sort of life
    Listening to the others
    Moan and scream and shout.

    This was no sort of life
    To be medicated
    Just to be kept quiet
    Or easier to deal with
    To be numb
    Left with no emotions to feel with.

    It was worse than feeling the pain
    To feel nothing
    It lurked within her brain
    It wasn't running

    Maybe if she just shut it all down
    They would let her leave
    Maybe if she just let it go
    She could see him again

    He was the only one who
    Made her feel safe, normal
    He was the only one who listened
    To her, and then told her
    It would all be okay.

    She wanted him to hold her
    In his arms and make everything disappear
    She wanted him to hold her
    And kiss away the fear.

    To run his hand through her hair
    And trace her lips
    With his finger
    To brush her cheek
    And look into her eyes.

    She realized that it was a hopeless dream
    And they would never let her out
    Forever she would hear the others
    Moan and scream and shout.

    She began crying, silently
    If they heard her
    They would come
    And make her numb.

    She hated the feeling
    Of helplessness
    This place gave her
    How they stole her soul
    And left nothing to savor

    I guess all the strings inside me broke.
  8. #9 Goopus, May 18, 2011
    Last edited by a moderator: May 18, 2011
    Random high song/poem I wrote while... yes, high. The first one is entitled uhh... *makes up title, shifting into bullshit mode* Stain On A Wall

    "I'm pretty high.
    I'm pretty lazy.
    I'm pretty faded.
    I'm pretty crazy.
    Shit shit shit.
    I'm a perfect fit.
    For my private hell.
    I can't focus.
    In all my dreams I seem to fail.
    My train of thought
    Is heading towards derailment.
    I'm dying by your impalement
    The knife in my back.
    I'm off of my track.
    I can't seem to see you clearly.
    Why do I have to make my life so tough?
    I know I'm just not nearly good enough.
    I'm scared of the future
    I obsess over the past
    If I make a commitment
    It sure won't last.
    If I had tried any harder
    I would have painted my wall red.
    I would have said my goodbyes
    And put a bullet through my head.
    But that's what you all want
    So I push through it
    And I survive."

    And another -- more fucked up -- song/poem... It's unfinished but meh. It is entitled... Boo

    "My thoughts were all muddy
    And scared.
    Nobody even seemed to care
    That I was sad
    It really started to make me mad
    If you aren't careful
    It just might end up bad
    For you, and maybe your family too
    Don't fuck with me
    I'm a fucking ghost
    But I don't say 'boo'
    I just wait for the right one
    And then I strike back
    I hit them when they can't fight back.
    Fuck 'em that's what they did to me.
    I smile when I think about it
    I feel so free."

Share This Page