Log in

Undressing · Of · A · Salad

Recent Entries · Archive · Friends · Profile

* * *

Somehow he was beautiful;

Mostly in sleep, his own
His eyes would move quickly
Beneath their lids splendidly
And magickly, the creases
Ironed out --completely--
Revealing the innocence
Of his boyish demise

There, he would not seem monstrous
But rather serene --Quite--
Peaceful even.

Yet in his slumber spell
...He would spin me SillY
into his twillight valley

Mostly in sleep, mine own
He would barge in BLueBeaRd
Hauntingly dragging me
To underworldly diEmensions
By the curl of my toes
In the clutches of his clubed fist
Like the prized pheasant
Valiantly hunted
On a cold winters' dawn
--With keys--
-----Stained Red-----

A vintage wine drying on shelf
My dreamscapes; the awaited occasion
Selfishly absorbed in his Four-Walled WoRld

& Laughing madly behind
The closed door

And the other, echoing

~But I must admit;


YesSs, sometimes
And rather not very often
-or rather not often enough-

He was beautiful.
Current Mood:
energetic energetic
Current Music:
Yes Annie
* * *
Come to me
My salty friends
Flow freely from my eyes;

For after all
The weeping ends
A piece of sadness dies.

Current Mood:
cynical cynical
* * *
o.k., going on a month w/out internet....
This licks...
I MISS :o(
Current Mood:
sad sad
* * *
bending ore
silent screaming into nothingness
I try to dismiss
and burn out
like a match on a cold flooR
Current Mood:
nauseated nauseated
* * *

Traffic jams, water dams, unsalted ham
Martyrs, mortals and clam bake clam
People crying unnecessary tears
Others drowning in a puddle of beer

Ever knock on your own door to see if you're home
Ever cry just to prove you could do it

Stake outs, take outs and plain making out
Set-ups, screw-ups and rich dogs with clout
Liars, empires, Death of a clown
Fooling, no fooling, more fooling around

Ever wonder why time spirals in many directions but always faster
Ever think infinity is a rather small number

Agents of fortune, golddiggers and thieves
Ages been part of society
Instruments of life, weapons of death
Are all made of steel with a different direct

Ever walk in front of a bus and the damn thing stops an inch from you
Ever bourne the burden of being bound to a celestial body

Political parties, celebrity balls
Broken down people with no place to fall
bridges, tunnels, terrestrial routes
The higher the way, the more expensive the suit

Ever try to open your eyes when they are already open
Ever stand in the seed of deceit like a knife in the back

Blacksmiths, goldsmiths forge iron and stone
Without Mother Nature they're all alone
The land that is lived by the same is destroyed
and becomes forgotten like a rusty dead toy

Ever remember something you didnt forget but wanted to
Ever search the stars for intelligent life

The snow, it falls all through the night
A beautiful cover to cover the bite
Leashes, collars, chokers and belts
Must never tighten on your inner self.

Ever use as a mantra the words "I am not" and felt the effect?

Current Mood:
devious devious
Current Music:
Real Men; Tori Amos
* * *
* * *
Political upheaval
science spells demise
Society stares wanting
with wool over the eyes
Blinded by deception
they wanted and believed
politicians smile
even they have been deceived
A world run wild in dollar bills
Power in the price
you pay out for existence
Statistics not precise
As time goes on you fork out more
to kill your common man
In the name of achievement
The world is a garbage can
of thermonuclear missiles
Mounds of toxic waste
No thought of repercussion
advancement not to haste
still blindly stare and waste away
ignore it all and refuse to see
procreate breed some more
Disease called humanity
Offspring raised in a world of death
Final days- it's all too close
Humanity will surely end
Society prefers to doze
and wish it all away the best
is what they only want to see
Swimming in sewage pits
once referred to us as the sea
and bask upon its shores to tan
in ultra violet rays of light
Global warming on the rise
and not a bloody tree in sight
In a flash it came and went
A whirlwind of time flew by
Evolution killed itself
We caused effect that we must DIE
and in the final throws of this
ower little death orgy
we realized mistakes were made
but then existence ends abruptly...

2001 copyright Michelle Sdrakas
Current Mood:
political too
Current Music:
Strange Little Girls; Tori Tori Tori Tori Tori
* * *
One by one
in single file
they drop
over the edge
to the other side
Chasing muddled laughter
with their new sportscars
Singing someone else's music
in a metal microphone
bending silicone
twisting echoes
mask the mark
he laid upon Mimi's eyes
Scratched in dark kohl circles
Maybe he cared once
but now he cares for nothing
He likes to throw stones
and he likes the sound of
cracking bones
crushing in his knuckles...
She's only skin
on this astral plane
She blocks it out
giving in before the end.
Current Mood:
sore sore
Current Music:
The hum of the computer box
* * *
My heart is pacing
Left and right
The snare controls
The marching band
Your sneer controls
the weather forecast
Lending a hand
In straining the tears
Staining my legal white blouse
Standing silver
Stranded out on the street
On these two left feet
Because I could not keep the line...
The audience throws tomatoes;
I rub their stains in deeper.
Current Mood:
crushed crushed
Current Music:
smells like teen spirit; Nirvana
* * *
Imagine with me for a moment in time
That we would leave our chains on the roadside
That we would be together, laughing at silly things
Free to choose what embraced us
Free to walk away at any time
Without fear nor sacrifice

I saw our future the other night ...
The raven out on the the roof top;
The way it shook its feathers clean
Like mama's bird out on the wire
Like the birdsong from his throat
Without fear nor sacrifice

We were given two beautiful ships
Upon a crowning floor of ocean communion
Upon suspended hooks at opposite angles
They were vessels for our journey
They would carry out the cresting waves
Without fear nor sacifice

Picture the curiosity of sisters in delight
Both were significantly galactic
Both were entirely contrary
One was an ancient creature of history
yet lacked the comforts of our modern world
One was a stylish organism of luxury
without the mystery of moral wisdom

The pressure of the steaming kettle

Our thoughts glided through the ocean floor

Neither of us could decide which ship to sail
Two ships are useless in nature when
two tribes sport the fins of a dolpin
We would set out for the ocean in concert;
We would rather swim at our own volition
Without the fear nor the sacrifice.

2001 Copyright Michelle Sdrakas
Current Mood:
Current Music:
She's Leaving Home; Tori Amos
* * *
Blood money
lies beaneath
an open window,
masking the bicycle
where the scarf upon her head
protects the hair in its place...

Setting out for the drive,
Crossbone t~shirts
line this house of horrors...

A butter knife
brings her character
to life.

The shower scene:
an essential twist of the doornob,
caught by roving camera
brings an unexpected guest
to a naked recline
amongst the sheets...


"It's a little more personal than that,"
her mouth mimed,
turning smiling lips away.

I can't sleep at night...
I can't close my eyes!
Could it be possession
or could it be revenge?
They only carried one costume-
she thinks she's better...

Psychotic panes
reflect rage
inflicted by casualty wounds
from the fearless nimble minds,
with nothing to loose
but muddy boots;
not a penny
no; not a drop,
neither sanity...

A leather jacket,
a platinum blonde,
a slashed tire,
an unfilmed movie
and a plethora of puzzles
yet to be solved.

With a candlestick
steadied by her distresses,
with a bonnet
steadied by her tresses,
she grasps a hold on her religion
upon her chest
and whispers,
"God help me!"

A plume dipped in ink
and dragged across the paper...

A look upon those eyes
could make a person wonder
and freeze the blood
that runs so warmly
beneath your flesh.

The moonchaser chases
yet casts no shadow,
as the light creeps
in on Main Street
and ends the scene.

A sense of longing
without the notion
sacrifices herself,
crawling out
of the shadows
and into the tango,
giving rise
to the conception
of her roleplay...

and matches lit on rocky walls
leave a trail of sulforic bonfires behind;
a useless flame
cannot shed warmth
upon the breast.

A coal
would light the furnace
and keep the wheels circling
on this train.

The stone provides a bed
suitable for her cold back.

A force at work
beyond human
and beyond evil
are beyond the senses...

A working flashlight
sparks the darkness
in a kindle
and reveals
her running mascara.

Her bleeding lipstick
cakes at the corners of her mouth
as she tries to scream...

A jump abounds...
A hit is released...
and a death is birthed in preying fire...

One rubber glove
is all that remains
of her cruel attempt
at survival.

Copyright 2001 Michelle Sdrakas
Current Mood:
Current Music:
Pets; Jane's Adiiction
* * *
* * *

Previous · Next