psychodrive

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a city in rhythm and jazz -.. by psychodrive, literature

Literature

a city in rhythm and jazz -..

an entire city in tears singing jazz and rhythm and jazz and the blues, singing rhythm & jazz & the blues. an entire city in tears walking asphalt with hands held like walkways between towers, twisting the wind into whirlwinds of sound & a red handkerchief flicking on the wind, whipping & lifting the sound of the wind & the necks of the crying in one motion, one waving, swaying, lilting, loving manyperson, singing rhythm & jazz & the blues. an entire city in tears craning from windows & weeping, sweeping the dust dragged past the parks with their eyes. with their eyes: dust-dragged

you disinterest me by psychodrive, literature

Literature

you disinterest me

i'm not interested in your phonemes -- whether you say tom-ah-to or tom-ay-to means nothing to me. just make a point, say something poignant, divest yourself of something worth my time, because at the moment, this investment doesn't look like it will pay. i've done the math, i've studied the graphs, and your histogram of triviality is starting to bother me. statistically, you're a laugh, sure, but on the floor amongst the others you're a joke - an average bloke who can barely raise a snigger. so i graphed your performance quotas, and your execution is lacking; you're slacking off and i figure the hooded guy with the axe is

the restaurant at the end of.. by psychodrive, literature

Literature

the restaurant at the end of..

heading to the four corners of nowhere. star-burst of four kittens under a lid of ice, and Why? And down in the lake, the sudden screech of ducks swooping How did we fly here? while we're rolling in the muddy banks of a tributary, listening to the songs of carp, warbled through the crystal curtains. drawn, draped and tangled so we're up to our knees in the ice, blanketed and trudging through autumnal reeds - coloured like a quoll scrabbling across a desert of gum leaves collected into jackets we match with koala-skin boots. we stroll sweating along trails with undefined edges and stray only for toilet breaks amongst beetles, chitin

untitled by psychodrive, literature

semianthem by psychodrive, literature

Literature

semianthem

i live in the choir of rich summer anthems. the pneumatic release of bottle caps by forearms; wrists that creak like junkyards, and knees that clack in rows at Bowls tournaments. i live in the mid-afternoon icypole. the repetitive plop onto bitumen and lazy seeping onto green plastic furniture; avoiding the spatter of sprinklers still worth sitting on. i live in parks and beaches: in theatres, in malls, in the smallest back-alley chinese/korean/australian takeaway (two tables, five chairs, and a middle-aged japanese woman) explaining that they used to own three lestronts - no, le

the grass is always by psychodrive, literature

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Vacare by psychodrive, literature

Dreaming Of Wang's Carpets by psychodrive, literature

Literature

Dreaming Of Wang's Carpets

Risen; Genteel, thrumming sines, skyward, oscillate. Myself, a dreary haze, afloat; razed by cubist seas e e a a seas. Lo! Among those hollow, plastic cubes, An other one; one other me: "A me! A me! Is it thee? No, not I; it is a she." 'Lo she. By her, irradiant Asian-made, on Irish panpipe-voice, were played: You know, I look around at the faces I know; I fall in love with the people in the front row row row

Tales of Pyrite Epiphany by psychodrive, literature

Literature

Tales of Pyrite Epiphany

. I. Hoarse wicks burned low in Dead Man's Hole on sealed oak-wood and pine-musk scent, and Eradryn the Bard, on lute, strummed ancient lore of merriment. Heaved wide, bored gates met chill night air from snow laid trek, trudged Curios; recounting pyramids 'midst skies: reverse o' tan-inked papyrus. Four-dozen mates assembled hence -- black sea of cuspid cutlery, aboard fair maiden Inora, steer passage of rapacity. II. On barmy lass, atop crows nest, they spied some tastebud majesty. Pre-salted meal, she courted round till caught in teal-spun cavity. Thrashed cobalt 'gainst worn gangling planks 'neath thund'rous, pregnant

Wireless Manifesto by psychodrive, literature

Literature

Wireless Manifesto

Frond-licked dactyls dance - stut tering sideways - glance against tuner and SHIFT waves out of focus. Unilateral static streams (twitch reflex impulses) career on static-clear, solder seams. Circuit and cochlea screech in unison; drifting fuzz; the buzz of another warcry ascension, exuded through a three Kelvin radiation skin. Transcend voiceless vaccuum ennui with finite bursts of political agenda; then the fundamentalist enmity tension calms while Chopin flautists flounce lambently. Vibratos, concertos, nü metal thrashes and lashes of concupiscent crashes -- symbolic embolisms. Retired mechanical engineers compose treat

10,000 feet and falling by psychodrive, literature

Last Chance To See ... by psychodrive, literature

Garlic Flavoured Mouthwash by psychodrive, literature

Literature

Garlic Flavoured Mouthwash

fluffy word-cuff shackles startle strangled to tangled expression. re-question the numb one (not dumb one) pegged to a stringed screen. hanging by threads. begrudging groans feign acknowledgment, forced assertions disown. but beneath: calloused fingers tap-a-tap a scathing a to z. twenty minutes later, threat bereft, he turned, wove, heaved to seat. knit string beans with garlic fresh breath mashed between his teeth, broccoli sprig uttered an apology. no reply -- shops swallowed her whole.

A Floundering Evangelist by psychodrive, literature

Literature

A Floundering Evangelist

I. Polar yaw near abated an ancient one-tooth grin. Jilted, his jaunted path circled straight ahead. Tipping his loosely glued cap, he clambered around unkempt barriers, stated his quest (through an inverted gap) on mislabeled frustrated ears - while gait cracked him forward and past. II. Pity the perforated grin whose pre-chewed dos (and don'ts, ten times to a morsel) are facts; regurgitated by a pointy-hatted man unable to stand; whose lonely foreign whispers can save your hell-bound soul. Tender treats become tasteless, so waste less: your salubrious argue-mints choke

For shotgunmessiah by psychodrive, literature

Literature

For shotgunmessiah

it's about smallest the beginnings; more-or-less cause and effect millions of streams deltas that could and should have been. it's about clean and dirty and in between, and

Museum Bench by psychodrive, literature

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Artistic Evolution by darkcrescendo, literature

Tv Show by BebeShep, literature

Today's Lesson Is Topography by Aishuu, literature

Literature

Today's Lesson Is Topography

Hey, tonight's lecture is on topography. Lie back and let me navigate, I've got all the maps. I will lead you down a course, discoursing as we go about those damn fool nights of two shots too many. Tonight's lecture is no story, song, or rhyme but a lesson in math of the wildest kind. The geometry in our curves bends like so. Watch your footing. Now, I've got some graphs for your ears which require closer examination. I knew a dead girl once. Upon meeting her in that dark corner of Serengatto's (it means something in one of those love languages of romance lands) she said "Do you remember dying?" and I said "First I'd like to remember liv

Piracy, trakkies and sex by dibkins, literature

insomniac poet theatre v2 by neo-tek, literature

Epitome of Romance by rejecting, literature

Literature

Epitome of Romance

it's spring, now. we keep our curtains drawn after it rains because the rainbows still make you cringe. the stars are out at night, though, after clear evenings that wait and stick. you explain constellations to me because i never read the books. our bed is always left unmade because whenever one of us walks by it, we like being reminded of hungry hands and hungrier hips. you leave me shower-steam messages on the bathroom mirror. you make us dinner and i watch you stir, secretly using extra ingredients to spell out our initials near the sink. we watch a sad movie and i can't find the tissues, so you let me use your sleeve. "i bought you this.

Dear Hunting by fyoot, literature

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Sunflower Flux by psychodrive, literature

Literature

Sunflower Flux

He played hard this month: She played well this month: Mortgages prefixed sales Chlorophyll quotas left in the wake and rows of steadfast hotels, of cushioned lovers and tickling tiny noses plastic monuments saluting a gaudy cannon A row of gently dandling milk flashing jail-cell smirks warmed by the notion of a golden god as his firing squad gained two more guns. as they dawdled from nap to nap. They scratched his name into a plaque,

Sunflower Flux

psychodrive

About psychodrive

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Australia
Deviant for 20 years
He / Him

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psychodrive

Mar 21, 2012

Drive by

0 min read

To be read aloud. Audience required. Pepper and heckling to taste. (hey, journal formatting. good.) ----- I spent my teenage years as Estragon,        struggling with the heel of my ego        and the weight of-f-f-f-f             implications I couldn't realise.           I was SEX spelt P-O-R-N        trapped in a sock of obscurity:        blind, but not humble. We were all waiting;        so we joined organisations;        we created modern day alchemy and named it        a loyalty scheme;        we sold sieves with mesh to transmogrify milk and flaked corn         into malk and yellow rot; for a dol

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psychodrive

May 26, 2009

everyone leaves canberra eventually

0 min read

~ a frost has crept overnight and left icy thumbprints in triangles on my window. yours is an untended Babylon. a cold place, hidden from view by vacuous sheets of black snow. at 6am, i'm out front in tracksuit and beanie . . . . -harvesting- keeping crystals for the summer . . . . for the summer you drop everything . . . . and return for hot chocolate and last winter's frost. ~ still no formatting options on journals, wtf.

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psychodrive

Mar 5, 2007

and then i seemed like a liar or a man of his word

0 min read

~ somebody made the comparison again between my spitting image and i (or he and his). i smiled, wondered if that too was replica or reality. ~ so, yeah, i guess you could say i wrote.

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Profile Comments 665

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Amberlouie

May 4, 2011

Just doing the obligatory pimping for The Second Chance Polished Poetry Competition which ~BibleOfDOOM is hosting this year. Please heart the article and spread the love. Tell everyone! Circulate the article and you'll have my forever