Moonlight Reminiscence of a Restless Soul

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

Moonlight Reminiscence of a Restless Soul

Postby The Golden Turd » Thu Aug 18, 2016 8:20 am


Reminiscence flooding in from the moonlight
of countless days now turning into shadows
Love too easily given and cruely taken away
eyes weathered by the dunes, mountains, ice

Foolhearted ambitions that contradict my fate
Every passing face haunts me, distant failings
Abode is everywhere, all without rest, sleepless
Cold White granite, Tropic Jungle, Arctic Desert

Thought converging, sum of existence balanced
Meaning sought and banished, shame, pain, loss
body and soul bound deep in exhausted tension
Hard to breathe, hard to forget, hard not to dream

Tears whelm in my eyes, lost it so very long ago
My only cherished possession, in the cupboard
That vidal sassoon faggot found where my stash
My teacup from chinatown, daily he would drink it

Standing in the doorway on my breaking looking
Horror, daily looking at my cup, betrayed, injustice
It is my only possession, I sleep in the rain, torture
Damn fascist, fashion driven hendonist took it all

My cup, daily tarnish, on display, in his contentment
My cup, my only cup, my only posession, taken now
My cup, my only refuge in storms of contemplations
My cup, my pride and joy, never really as mine again

Fuck all cock sucking homos who steal my dragonfly teacup.


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Re: Moonlight Reminiscence of a Restless Soul

Postby Ultimate Philosophy 1001 » Thu Aug 18, 2016 4:22 pm

Turd, why do you do dis. I am starting to not hate you.

I can relate to this poem.
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Re: Moonlight Reminiscence of a Restless Soul

Postby The Golden Turd » Fri Aug 19, 2016 12:40 am

Asshole always wwent on break before me, and I would go down, stand in the doorway, and there that fucker was, sitting all fucking content with my teacup and little plate I had for it (matched), my tea and my honey.

I would just sit opposite of him, reading..... always made a fucking show of how much he enjoyed it. Look at me, I'm drinking from the nicest teacup. Hey you, you look like someone who possesses absolutely nothing in life save the clothes on your back and a few books in storage, look at me, drinking so damn contentky from this teacup.

I never use cups others drink from.... no matter how well washed, I just don't trust them, so I'm left looking at this gut, cause even if I'm not gonna use it anymore, was still mine, and it once made me very happy. Others knew about it, but told them not to say anything about it. Didn't need to have any work issues.

Just.... That was my fucking teacup. It brought me a lot of satisfaction. And I don't have my teacup now.
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