Improv

back and forth improv on a whim~

anything notable happen in the life of future poet?

the light had shone into the window
and the wall had turn the colors of the world

and the blade of remorse stabbed me in the back.
just off the top of my head.

and thou shalt feel the warmth of the perfect waters

more knifing in my back!
the blood pool of lust flow from my heart to the cold floors of degradation.

the jewel show's its glow to the world inside a cave of black

black, the color of my apathy. my dread. my self loathing. let my blood run black through my veins.


blank tis all that runs through my mind as i see the new world with new eyes

eyes of a new found soul. an awakened person. how enlightened do thou feel?

thou feels the dark as a blanket, but the light as the brightness of everlasting hope

the hope a hole in the clouds that are the storm clashing through my heart. my human emotions clashing in bitter, hateful warfare.

of all of the things that could be accomplished in a life time, of everything that we could learn, or see, or know, nothing could compare to the inner mind than the outer world

the outer world so torn by corruption and self destruction. only the inner mind can remain purest in our darkest hours.

within ourselves we are strong, it is only the weak thoughts that tarnish the ways of life that we live by

our ways of life are mere reflections of our inner being. surely our ways of life are different and individual?

the mirror, i look through the mirror to another world, a world of peace, but where desperateness lies feet away, I see the forest of wonderus prosperity, but then also the famine.

but what shall i do when the mirror cracks, nay, breaks. will my life fall to pieces like the the mirror?

thy's mirror shall crack, as the days pass, more dust shall settle and more pressure it lives through, but thy shall not worry, for when thy's mirror breaks, thy's life will have been completed and will have the wonders of everything within the mirror become their happy life

surely a happy life isn't eternal. coveting breeds lust, lust breeds corruption. corruption and wrongdoing lead to despotism.

if there are none of these things, how are we to know on what the happiness is then? as there is a Yin there must be accompanied a Yang.

what if a yin overpowers a yang. bringing down one true way of life. control.

then there shall never be an end to the life that shall live, if there was nothing that could be done about it, then there was nothing that will happen afterwards there is never an afterwards when the Yin shall take over the Yang

life will revolve life a record. like history itself for history repeats itself. (THE END)

not so fast
but just like a record everything shall go round and round, never really completing in it itself till the record is scratched by fate itself

like the record, history is scarred. Like a skipping CD. looping.stuttering until the iron fist of man dares to stop the record and dare to put in a new one, not knowing what comes next.

the person that shall stop it tho dear sir, is not a man wanting to rule the world; only men like him shall die an unfofilled life; the one to stop the record will be the child, the innocent, the happiest, the ones that will kill the cat by stopping the record, they will stop thanks to man kind's weakness: curiosity

why do we walk into the world blind, not fearing what our fate will be. curiosity. for it certainly did kill the cat. if curiosity killed the cat then man has committed that act over and over without learning his lesson. surely curiosity is eternal.

it is, and it shall reign supreme over all of the vanities that human's ever make, the world shall have no more fluffy white wet hair balls

Author's Note

This was an improve with one of my writing friends, T. W. Early. We had done this a while ago and I just dug it back up, I thought it would give a little lightness to the recent things I've been writing about. :) It's just us going back and forth, him then me, him, me, so forth~

Reviews

[李[A]]

What I like about this poem is neither the content nor the style of writing. What I like most is the way you and your friend wrote this poem. I'll probably try that out now with someone on here (thanks for inspiration :P). Anyways, what you and your friend did is very difficult to be represented by any author. This is because not only are the tones slightly different from stanza to stanza, but they are also completely different voices of you and your friend. Thanks for sharing this amazing piece!