Soul-Baring Zone

Terwyn Silverwolf
44870
/realm3/witchswheel/

terwynsilverwolf@yahoo.com

/realm3/witchswheel/
terwynsilverwolf@yahoo.com

Now, to plug myself to the world!!! Mwaaa HA HA HA HA!!!...or something. It's a little work of mine, hope you like it, and it is copyrighted, so if you try to sell it or claim it, I will attack you with a ravenous pack of Lawyers and Camels.

Frozen Heartache

Every night I sacrifice,
I lay my heart on the altar of your love,
An all I can feel is the cold stone beneath it.
Perhaps the cold is kindness,
Numbing the pain of feeling,
After all, a frozen heart can never be broken...


 A Lost daydream 


Daydreaming at 2AM,
Is there any other way?
Music in my mind,
Love in my heart,
Art in my soul,
A muse in my arms,
Laughter in my eyes,
Sympathy in my smile,
Tenderness in my fingertips,
Life like wine in my veins,
Is there any other way to live?
Daydreaming at 2AM,
The only way to fly.


 Realization 


Everyday I prove to be the father of lies,
The mother of invention,
Through countless failings and entrapments,
I have learned my craft well.
Able to spin a tale in a single breath,
Faster tongued than the illegitimate love-child
 of Al Sharpton and Allen Dirschowitz.
But I am not ashamed.
It is a tool, a craft, a survival mechanism,
This world and this life and these people
 in it are all lies.
So why not lie to the lies?
I'm not a wrong-doer.
I'm an antagonist hero.
An unholy martyr.
A sainted whore.
I want for nothing, except everything,
And to feel anything, instead of Nothing.
Maybe I'll just lie to myself and
save the effort for someone less apathetic--
or self-destructive.
                   Christmas Eve '02


 Wow, I'm Weird 


I want to peel myself open for the world to see.
See what it's twisted and crushed.
See how I feel, what's inside,
Screaming to get out, but having no voice.
Unable to express itself,
It gnaws at my soul, tensely
S A V A G E L Y
I am not what I am,
or where I am,
I'm lost in myself,
help me find a way out,
Maybe if we all just give in,
we'll finally be free...


 Beatnik Beats and Bits 


Little old lady,
Sits in the middle of nowhere,
Traces of  a life long-lived,
sparkle through her silver hair.


They take Gimp, Legless
     compatriate,
Put him in a laundry cart,
and usher in an era 
     of hijinx
	shenanigans,
		Peace,
	Children at work,
	Men at Play.
The moon Swallows us
	ALL.


Buddha lotus shopping cart,
Tranquility on wheels,
who knows every step of the path?
	The man with no legs,
He sees a perfect world,
	He has no eyes.
He feels the air is silk,
	He has no skin.
He hears laughter, play, passion
	He has no ears.
He smells the new wine,
	He has no nose.
He tastes the nectar that is life,
	He has no tongue.
The perfect man, for a perceft
		WORLD


Blond Buddha sumo bowling ball,
ejaculated by the cock/cunt of god/s,
hypnotic synchrodryer bundles,
spinning into an oblivion of light
	shadow color sounds.
A time tunnel to softer
more exotic world,
Stoner typhoon,
	a fantasy bed of underpants
beneath a canopy of T-shirts
	with clever words
to bemuse me in my peaceful
	nonexistence
		in the oasis
of my mind.

If God drops Acid, does he see People?




How's that for different?  Laundry day was never so fun...