Oxydox

What does it mean

to be or not to be?

to live in constant

fear of being strong,

yet strong enough to live

in fear of being weak

 

to be a tree in a burning forest

and a rat in a darkened hole

 

Open Wounds

I awoke on a cold hard floor in a dark room with a dim light outside the window. I knew not of where I was or how I came to be here, but I knew I had to leave. As I started to stand to get a feel for the surroundings, a sharp pain in my head knocked me down again. It hurts just to remember and it hurts even more just to try, but eventually I managed to stand. There was some sort of control panel and a window just above it, but as I turned around I recoiled in horror. It was a woman, her mangled body sprawled across the floor with bite marks on her legs. Her body was fresh, rigor mortis had not yet set in and the blood had not yet dried. My heart raced, my eyes widened, and my mind went blank, all I could think of was that I did not belong here; I did not want to be here.

I looked to the window and it was then I found out I was trapped in a factory of some sort. The floor was wet with water, while from the ceiling hung rusting chains. Giant boxes stacked in disarray seemed slightly wet as well. There was nothing to be seen, but there was something to be heard. It was a high pitched cry that could bring one to their knees and the mere sight of such monstrosity could push one to the floor. About five feet tall, grey with a waterlogged appearance. Its hairless head was bloated with eyes so dark, its mouth was wide with few mangled teeth, and its limbs, stubby, as if cut off then sewn back on. One by one their numbers started to increase as each would come out from behind one corner of the factory until there were about forty of them. I searched for a way out but was frightened by one of the little abominations as it threw itself at the glass. There was a loud thud and a small crack appeared, then at that moment I leapt towards the door to make sure it was shut tight and properly barricaded. I looked around the room one more time, desperate for an exit, and I found one.
It was an air vent. “How cliché…” I thought to myself, but I broke off the rusted cover with a few tools that were lying around, then crawled in and in a few seconds the abominations breached the door. I could not see what was happening, but I could hear them feasting on the woman’s body; the crack of bone and the tearing of flesh. The mental imagery was enough to push me faster, yet silent, as to not alert them of my presence. The air vent went on forever, but I eventually managed to reach a point where I could see another part of the factory floor and yet again I hear another cry, this time a cry for help.

I twisted and turned in the air vent searching for the source of the cry, but the vents were weak and could not sustain the extra movements. There was a loud and sudden clang of metal, and then the air vent gave way, sending me thirty feet down into piles of boxes. I quickly recovered from the fall, because of the adrenaline rush and began to search for the cry, but as quickly as I fell, I found it. Two children were running from another kind of monster. This one had thin elongated limbs, a torso with a mouth on the stomach region and a faceless head. It made its way on all fours and was moving faster than the children. The seven foot beast was getting close, then without thinking, I grabbed the nearest tool I could find and ran towards the thing. I yelled at the children to find cover only to be slashed in the thigh and pushed to the floor. It pinned me down with one of its limbs and positioned its mouth above my face, so I firmly grasped the wrench and proceeded to bludgeon the limb that held me down. The thing shrieked in pain, as a dark viscous fluid flowed from the wound I inflicted. I took this as an opportunity to escape, so I ran as fast as my bloody legs would allow. The children were waiting for me by a doorway screaming for me to hurry up, but as I neared the door there was a sharp pain in my shoulder. It had pierced my shoulder from behind and I could see its bony little hand in front of me, so in a sheer act of desperation, I turned to face the beast and shattered its limb with the wrench in my other hand. It shrieked again and retreated. The monstrosity’s hand still dangled from my right shoulder. I clumsily pulled it out, then blood started to flow freely and I collapsed.

My eyes were still functioning, so I was aware of what was happening. The children dragged me into the room and shut the door. It seemed like the same room I had initially awakened in, but the control panels had lights and were blinking. I pulled myself up and sat on one of the chairs. From the control room I could see a large metal door similar to the ones in warehouses, so I believed that one of the buttons or levers here would open the giant door. The children were scared and I devised a plan to help us get out. I have found lever that opens the door and how it behaves. It would slowly open and slowly close automatically, which meant we would have to run as soon as it opened. An alarm would also sound then the little monsters as well as a few of the big ones would come out to inspect only to return from wherever they came from. I told the children that as soon as I pull the lever, they needed to run towards the door and never look back until they were out. So with the children in position by the door and me ready to pull the lever, I gave the little boy a look, a sort of “we can do this” face and he made the same face back.

I pulled the lever and the children raced out the door. I followed behind them, limping as fast as I could with blood still dripping leaving behind a trail. The children made it out safely, but as I dragged my wounded body a horrible sight befell my eyes. The door was already closing and I was still quite far. All I could think of was making it to the exit, yet simply walking was very difficult. My legs started to get heavier and heavier, while my shoulder started to get worse and worse. I feared the worst and believed the bloody things were infected. I wanted to simply pull off my arm to at least stave off the approaching abominations, but I couldn’t. It was only a few more meters and I saw that I could still fit through the door a few more steps to freedom, but as I got close, the doors shut in front of me. I continued limping anyway hoping that the door would open again; but instead, I slammed into the cold hard metal door. My body hurt and it begged for rest, so I just sat down on the floor with my back to the wall. I could see the trail of blood and the wave of abominations quickly approaching. I closed my eyes hoping that when they open I would wake up, but all I could hear was the alarm still sounding and the stomps from their feet. I thought of how to escape the situation, but my body wouldn’t respond all it wanted was rest. I decided to open my eyes, but as quickly as they opened they were closed.

 

Tattered

I apologize since I was supposed to post this much sooner.

There comes a time when shattered glass
will decorate our floors
scattered through out the household
especially near the doors

There comes a time when painful cries
are all you ever seek
releasing all the other pain
when your future’s looking bleak

There comes a time when all you think of
is how to fall or die
for no amount of joy, can compare
to that drop of water from your eye

But what else can we look for
in a world of pain and sadness
what else can we hope for
but heaven’s sweet caress

 

Limerick Compilation

Exams are done and I couldn’t wait until monday since inspiration struck, so here’s a bunch of limericks I made up. Enjoy 🙂

I felt a tinge in my mind to be witty
so a limerick came out out of pity
one after another
alone by the hour
I knew then that limericks are sexy

There once was a girl named Jill
who had forgotten to pay the bill
when her boyfriend had left
and her money bereft
she ran like a crazed mandrill

Today while I was walking my bunny
It jumped around and I thought it was funny
my feelings delighted
I then got distracted
then some robber stole all of my money

So George decided to take a vacation
though it’s more like procrastination
junk food’s what he ate
woke up feeling great
screw plot, it’s about presentation

A part of my mind was screwed
even with the coffee I brewed
typing and typing
gulping and gulping
but then all of my deadlines were moved

It was a wonderful day to go swimming
class had ended and I wasn’t dreaming
then my friend got a cramp
but he was also scamp
then I realized he wasn’t kidding

 

 

Waaah… Sorry …

Waaah… Sorry for no recent poems or anything… Finals week and stuff so I have to concentrate 🙂 I’ll try to make it more interesting by adding pictures and stuff so please be patient 😀 stuff can be expected by Monday next week 🙂

 

One Little Yellow Flower

One little yellow flower
breaking through the concrete
slowly moving upward
under everybody’s feet

One little yellow flower
rising slowly but surely
erupting from the ground
for all the world to see

One little yellow flower
confused at the city’s sights
watching all that walk around it
watching all the hearts ignite

One little yellow flower
just wants and craves attention
making dazzling displays
almost to perfection

One little yellow flower
silent as silent can be
leading by example
trying to impress me

One little wilting flower
just wanted to be accepted
lived life with no regrets
never cared how it was treated

 

Summer

Oh summer, in which the grass is dry
With people all about
Oh summer, with the heat intense
When all the students shout

Oh summer, where the waves would crash
Filled with different forms of life
Oh summer, when the flowers bloom
Bringing an end to all the strife

Summer, why do you not come early
To end your people’s pain
Summer, why are you so fleeting
Like the glorious summer rain

Summer, memories made to last
Filled with adventure all around
Summer, cherished friends about
With silence, they are bound

Summer, once the greatest gift
But now just a happy thought
Summer, still the greatest drug
Which with money, can’t be bought

 

Always and Never

It’s always with a heavy heart
that we take a grain of salt
It’s always with a facade of white
do we pace around then halt

It’s always me and never you
in every conversation
It’s always time to take a stand
and scream out “revolution”

It’s never time to sit and chat
with enemies unarmed
It’s never time to watch the stars
who know all who see are charmed

It’s never time to stomp the ground
bursting in fits of anger
It’s never time to let it loose
and live in sweet surrender

It’s always time to show the world
all your pride and glory
It’s never time to admit defeat
or even say you’re sorry

 

Tears

Tears are such strange occurances that happen on a regular basis. I can honestly find no real use for them when applied to a survival situation in which silence is usually the best approach to anything, but I know they have few uses, such as: warning the immediate family of trouble when the babies start to feel uncomfortable or are being threatened. Then I start to wonder, what if when the babies grow up. Do the adults still cry? Do they still have a use for such a childish act? That, I may never know, but I’ve come to a point in my life where crying is frowned upon and should I break, I will suffer the consequences and face ridicule only if people find out that I have recently shed a few drops of water from my eyes. So, if it’s been frowned upon since time and memorial, why do we still cry? why do we still do this act which leaves us completely vulnerable? Watery eyes and running noses will only increase one’s chances of getting caught as demonstrated by mother nature when babes of animals cry and get taken away by predators.

Some might argue that tears will help cleanse the soul of impurities and can therefore be likened to a dirt inside us leaving our bodies so that we may move on with our lives and make a better tomorrow today. This, I like to believe is absolute bull shit. I’ve seen, felt, and experiences only a little of the “impurities” that plague human behavior and I can attest that no matter what amount of tears is shed, there will always be so many more impurities that do not get removed. Think, for example, what I have been rambling on about can be demonstrated in this scenario: picture, if you will, a person who has just recently been scorned by fortuna and suffers from horrible timing. This person may cry and shed tears, but it will take more than drops of water to cleanse his soul of ill fate and lack of dignity. This person could be likened to a carpenter who has spent all his time working to finish one master piece, when in reality the orders he has received far exceed his capacity to make all of them in time.

Tears are not fragments of a broken heart that thought it finally learned to love. Neither are they reflections as to how much emotion overflows that the heart can’t handle and decided to let go and neither are they an expression of pain brought by a person to be carried in his daily life behind masks of happiness and insanity. They are but mere drops of water flowing from the eyes, supposedly the clear them in order to see better, but instead cloud the vision and bring a person to his knees.

 

Blaze

fast forward to when I forget

 faces past and feelings felt

no more pain and no more strife

no more love and no regret

changing lanes left and right

red lights flashing on and on

passing faces blurred in speed

no will to fight but just to bleed

a silent war with guns ablaze

thoughts as bullets whiz in haze

hitting only a single soul

a thousand shots are now a whole

so I say this now to all opposed

talking s*** when my eyes are closed

there’s no where left where I can dwell

that’s all there is, see you in hell…