Author Topic: colonel_mexico's poem thread  (Read 6375 times)

colonel_mexico

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colonel_mexico's poem thread
« on: November 05, 2013, 04:52:29 AM »
i apologize if i offend anybody, but i like to write a bit of poetry and i begin with this...(will probably be banned sorry guys i am weird)

the whisper that was left

an echo of a word
you once said
a lost voice in a world
of pain that led
two of us to a destiny
a potential blessing
turned violent epiphany
of how hopeless our beloved blasphemy
and both of us to blame
inventing lies to hide shame
bewildered and powerless
lonely and thoughtless
we were the ones waiting
for eternal happiness
too blind to see
lustful sexuality
our stupid fantasy
undone by false vanity
and who were we
to believe this could be anything
but a painful calamity
you were everything
and now regret left grudingly
each other for loving
the other when longing
and tears were all we shared
no matter how much we cared
the disaster is the beware
a warning no one heeds
the pain everyone feeds
and in all these things
i just see you
in songs and true
spoken words of passerbys
id give anything to trade lies
for one more kiss
a laugh a smile and a wish
i shall miss
those beautiful lips
placing my hand on your hip
my arm over your slip
take this bit
of me, my soul
the hole can't grow any bigger
how low it is to get to the trigger
may my end be the godsend
you were waiting
happiness dating death
whispers remembered whats left
"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

colonel_mexico

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #1 on: November 05, 2013, 05:12:27 AM »
I wanted to throw this in as well, I used to be the CFO of a small phone-app company (see any android device, RX Defender company Triumvirate Studios now defunct), don't download it that bank account it also defunct lol.  Anyway, I love to write and after my company dissolved this past August I wanted to keep making games with my artist, but we have failed to do anything, this is a story we basically came up with watching some Tool videos.  I wanted to make a video game out of this one, but it never happened.

In this drawer i woke into darkness, my life wasnt always simple but never was it this difficult.  I understood my role as the master's toy, the puppet of its only joy and I loved being the main character in his depraved story.  One day my drawer opened up into madness my face disfigured, my limbs removed save my smaller weakened arm, and my fear screaming for the nightmare to end.  For an instant i thought the nightmare was over, drawer opened and master appeared, but his face was not one of joy, but of sorrow.  The drawer closed as quickly as it opened and the fear became anger.  Pulling myself along in the darkness I found the drawer's edge and pushed.  Pain was almost as good as the joy of my former life, it soared through what remained of my mangled form.  Forcing the drawer open I could hear a humming that sounded like honeybees trapped in a drum.  Peering over the edge I saw the workshop, the play area where I once was king now strewn with all kinds of parts and new toys the master obviously intended to make his own.  The floor strewn with similar puppets with no names, some alive, some insane.  This was my time, this was my game to play, and Id win.  Pushing the drawer a little further, I climbed out and fell to the floor.  Darkness consumes me.

Awake.  The smell of burning wax stings my nose, I look over and see a small female doll with smeared paint and no arms and one eye.  She peers out almost begging for death but says nothing.  I crawl towards her and she watches intently saying nothing.  When I reach her she almost smiles and I whisper, 'This is not because I hate you.'  She sighs, nods and I rip her head from her small frail form.  Next I remove her legs and realize the feet are scarred, burnt and useless.  If I felt grief I might have cried, instead I ripped the feet off throwing them next to the one eyed head which now smiled in its death gaze.  I look up and see a drawer open, if the legs had feet I'd be able to reach it, but not yet.  I continue on, there are other drawers.

Flesh.  This little wax man so lifelike and almost a puppet but missing the marks that make a puppet a toy. His plastic parts discarded somewhere amongst the wasteland of the workshop.  He has no eyes, yet perceives me and his anger is manifest.  He attacks in short, choppy punches and kicks.  I smash him with no intention but to bring peace to his violence.  Hollow creatures like him only find peace by obtaining revenge for being born.  Smashed I almost know sadness, I never wanted this and would have let him live, he had nothing I needed.  Something, wait, yes his flesh hold something small and black.  A key, yes a key to a drawer, but which drawer there are so many locked ones.   Thank you my dear friend, I pack his meat into a small cross, like the one that hung from masters neck.  I hope it means something good, for he was evil.

Pain.  An open drawer, empty save a small vile of puppet lacquer used to strengthen our plastic parts.  I take it as the cracks of my age and use can no longer hide.  I stand on the edge and attempt to open the adjacent drawer which opens and allows me to climb up to another level.  Inside are 2 puppets in a grotesque pose of rapture.  The description of love would not make sense for two being combined by wood glue to fuse 2 into a centipede one.  One armed puppet cut in half sitting on the back of his brother puppet who had no head and walked on arms and legs, like a headless horse and its bottomless horseman.  Upon seeing me the horseman shrieked, and the horse walked toward me.  Arms stretching out, the glue dripping down like wax off a candle, it approached.  I wanted to keep going, but the horse brother's feet looked useful.  The horseman shrieked and violence was his intention, for all the pain suffered he and his mute conjoined brother would have their vengeance on any who crossed their path.  They were like my brothers.  "Please know I understand," i said quietly as I destroyed them, brining peace to their tortured souls by separating them to pieces.  My prized feet weren't so prized, one was so worn it wasnt even a nub, the other still had its faint outline and could be used, but what's one leg and foot without its brother?

Savior.  The tower of drawers brought me to a lofty view of the workshop and I could see another set of drawers across from the hall of homes this realm of puppets share.  In a small corner I could see a bunch of dolls of all sorts piled, but smoldering forever forgotten, the graveyard of silence.  "How peaceful it all seems" i thought as i heard a sound below me in a half opened drawer.  It was a small old doll mostly used for decoration in studio scenes.  Blood suit seemed to be his color, but i must be imagining things, this sort doesnt bleed.  I dropped down to his level and he whispered, "Oh harbinger of destruction can you have pity here today? I only wish to die tomorrow for there still may be a chance for one more scene.  The master comes tomorrow I know"  My desire to end this poor bloodsuit's small puppet life was exceeded by a desire to know of the master.  "Tomorrow?"  "Yes tomorrow is his time for his show, his desire must be sated and we must assemble correctly or dying will be pity compared to what he will do."  "What do you need bloodsuit?"  "That lacquer will sate me, bring me round one more time."  This bloodsuit i should destroy, his pain is nothing more than an inconvenience, but my path finds keys to a center I must know.  The show must go on.  Lacquer wasted on no one, time wasted on a vain pursuit, but better to know if truth can be found in bloodsuits.
"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

Sandy

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #2 on: November 05, 2013, 06:39:55 PM »
colonel_mexico,

Does the puppet ever find out why the destruction happened? Do you know the end already? Did this story come from a dream? :)
"Inside you there's a strength that lies."

colonel_mexico

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #3 on: November 05, 2013, 07:13:10 PM »
I actually don't know the end yet, but I think tonight is a good night to write.  I will try and wrap up this crazy little story of my puppet.  My dreams are something that haunt and drive me to be better, if that makes any sense lol.  Thanks so much for reading, I really do appreciate it :)
"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

Sandy

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #4 on: November 05, 2013, 09:02:10 PM »
I'm just hoping he'll come across another arm he can use. :) Best of luck with your creation.
"Inside you there's a strength that lies."

colonel_mexico

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #5 on: November 05, 2013, 10:18:11 PM »
The Show- The bloodsuits were the offering, ready martyrs who enjoyed the pain.  The Master dressed in his darkness, the shroud of night that shelters no light.  I had always assumed the Master was chasing pleasure, but seeing him like this made me realize he was chasing pain.  Insane it was to me that destruction was his life's opus, a production of innocent puppets born into night with no chance at a good life.  First he chose two bloodsuits, both new to the order with strong limbs of first class build.  They assembled with small knives standing at attention, little soldiers of a sadist army, the Master smiles and signals for them to fight.  Soldiers without training the act is carnal and bloodless, but with both losing limbs.  Once the head is removed a puppet ceases to exist and in this case the youngest wins.  The Master is pleased and raises the puppet for all to see, cheers are wooden cries that have no echo.  The Hero is placed in a box wherein replacement parts will see him live to fight another day, the parts being taken from the vanquished foe.  The bloodsuits bow and are dismissed, followed by a dance.  One single female doll, they call her Ipomoea.  Dance, beauty, desire all become one in my mind as I watch.  A single doll, almost shiny she sparkles in the darkness like a distant star in the night sky.  The Master watches, but seems jealous and angry.  This would have been the opportunity to get close to the Master, for what reason I was not sure.  I don't think I could kill the Master, nor did I really want to, I wanted answers.  She twirls.  I can not take my eyes from her and don't realize the bloodsuit has returned.  When she finishes her reverie the master shines a light and she withers into the shadows.  Instinctively I feel anger, but the gentle touch of the old bloodsuit soothes. I look down at a single foot.  Discarded during the battle, forgotten and headed to the fire.  The bloodsuit doesn't speak, just nods as if in thanks for another festive  year of darkness.  Another year of prison, a prison of pain which he loves more than anything else in his dark life.  The feet are a pair now, I can walk again.
"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

colonel_mexico

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #6 on: November 06, 2013, 12:24:26 AM »
Well I was supposed to be finishing up my story about the puppet, instead I started writing this.  It's pretty lame by any standard, but something that had started swirling in my mind when I watched The Quiet Earth last night.

Hello System, My Name Is John

if in the darkness is where we began, doesnt it make sense that is where we would go to begin again?
i was born in a small lab on the orbital space station genesis, james one of the other newborns says the name genesis is supposed to be ironic.  he reads a lot of the old literature and 'pop culture' rhetoric.  when we talk he says the world was saved by science, not by some myth written by the ancient people before they even knew what technology was. i wonder if he really knows what hes talking about.
james and i were born two days apart, but i suppose that isnt accurate, we were in test tubes, then incubators and finally released into a small robotic cell that nursed, fed, cleaned us until we could function enough to move about and understand basic commands.  i love the computers they are what has been described as mother to me. i use the word love loosely, as i dont feel any particular compassion for any one program or automated voice, i just enjoy their quiet whirring company.  i understand their place on the bubble and i wonder what they think of me.  i asked this to james once and he burst out laughing.  laughter something so foreign to me, i dont find anything funny.  james says im a sociopath with noob-nerd-tendency.  im not sure what that means because the definitions throughout language urban, technical, or otherwise dont make any sense, well at least to myself.  ive asked the computer what he thinks of me and system 2144 always says the same, growth rate 96% normal, oxygen intake 95% normal, no malignant anomalies or other abnormalites detected, "you are looking great today" the last part is done in some high pitched voice (not belonging to system 2144's basic program) that seems so contrived i feel stupid for even asking the question.  yet the question remains, they all have their place, what am i for? the oxygen re-breathers have their purpose like so many plants the planet once housed.  the warmers maintain a static temperature that keeps our frail human forms alive.  even the waste evacuation mechanisms, so small and living in awkward places ensure no bacteria or disease invade our little bubble.
all of which make me wonder, why?
the overwhelming sensation of them serving me almost makes me feel like im the master, when in fact if one of those tiny mechanisms or an error in a program could destroy me instantly, i realize im their small, entrusted package, their fetus in the womb.
james says i think too much and i need to 'chillax'
i think he stole that from a show starring bernie mac.
a television show james showed me about humans that didnt rely on machines as much as us and the others do.
they seem very tough and scary, like they are at odds continually and dont really like one another, but in critical moments they always come through for the other.  love is so strange to me.  im not sure if i understand the reason for its existence.  it depresses me in a way, but i never lose sleep and once 2144 says goodnight master john i feel comfort.  i could live like this forever.

chapter 2

a beeping sound awoke me earlier than usual and it was resounding throughout the entire cabin.  james came to me and said we had to go to the main cabin, it was time.  i had known about the others, but they were all older than i and none had bothered to try and meet me so i never reciprocated.  i found there were almost 20 others.  an older version of james was sitting at the head of a small dining room.  he spoke with a tone that commanded more authority than any of the other programs on the ship.  "the time has come for us to return to the planet.  there are 24 of us in total and we will be divided up by 6's to return to the planet.  we will leave by pods that will deposit you in safe zones that are ready to be re-established." nobody said a word, i was utterly confused, "leave why should we leave here?"  just a question.  "young master john we were created to repopulate earth after its destruction.  we were made to return when it was safe, the computers can no longer support us.  don't worry we will supply you with instructions to wipe your ass." laughter all around, the mood suddenly changed.  james senior continued "the six's will descend starting at 0400, the first group knows who they are, everyone else remain here and instructions will be given.  good luck and may we prosper."
"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

St. Martin the Bald

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #7 on: November 06, 2013, 05:13:01 PM »
  I am just passing through while I am working on school work - BUT - colonel_mexico, never apologize for sharing your creativity. It's just my thought - it takes a lot of courage to put yourself and your work out there and I commend you for it.
Hey, nice marmot!

colonel_mexico

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #8 on: November 06, 2013, 06:28:55 PM »
Thanks so much St. Martin, I appreciate the comments and I understand.  Thanks for reading too :)
"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

Sandy

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Re: colonel_mexico's poem thread
« Reply #9 on: November 07, 2013, 07:41:56 PM »
Two feet now. That's a good start. :)

How old are John and James, do you surmise? They are going to have a rude awakening, learning how to be self-sufficient!
"Inside you there's a strength that lies."