MrOdd Poems

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MrOdd Poems is a collection of poems created by Greg that he kept on his MrOdd website. (Source) They were all written in 2004

Rambling Confusion

I write as I go... following word after word... what shall I say today as I scratch my crotch and listen to nails grace my face... my ears.

Try to save my mind but my mind just falls away... away from what I saw today, tomorrow, last week... I'm gone.

In finding myself I see only confusion and mixed perception. Oooh diggity, is it the best of November yet? Is it the one day I seek out every waking day of the year? Is it the day I finally find meaning, only to lose it all again the next, 364 away from the day I wanted to always be a part of, endlessly.

I found a condo today... an apartment... but is she a druggie? Will she really take me in, or blow me out? I found a cozy shell amongst a cluster amongst patches, amongst earthly structures amongst existence...

The French woman sings in my ear of how she loves me unless I am one of them ~ the devil no... the god no... the pergist... no.

Unless I am what her father told her to hate... I feel so alone with you, no you, no you, all of you, no, just you. It is as if the world turns inward, asking me to feel complete, and what I find is what I seek most is something I can't even imagine... just yet.

Mmm... embrace me... oh do embrace me... or will you just let this all go... I don't want you to touch me, just stay for a while... or maybe I would feel better if you had never showed up from the source.

I don't see love in what is so fragile as human perception... you seem to like my smile... but wait... would you like his smile on my face better? Is it because I am me? What is "me"? A combination of chemicals that if they were to change you would convict me for life in the category of insane!?

No... I think I'm done with looking, seeking, feeling... If I placed this knife, in your throat, if I slit, tugged, pulled away at your organs... you would not love me any longer... If I were so insane...

Maybe mothers are those most divine... I love you son, but you must die... she says... you've killed too many cats, dogs, people... and after you die, so will I... she says... she says... she says... oh gosh.

It looks like I'll have to kill you mom.

I am Gregory James Daniel... and I am lonely beyond what any comfort could silence.

I wrote this long long ago... (a few weeks actually)


Tribute To Sane Boys

[Now Kids, Beware, This Poem May Give You A Scare]

I want to have sex with her,

But if she were here, I wouldn't.

I want to rub her every corner,

But if she were here I'd gag.


I'm talking about the porn star,

The one I masturbate to,

But would never actually touch...

In real life...


I want to experiment,

Position after position,

But only if I don't have to move...

Only if it's all in my mind.


I want to bump, rub, lick, rub...

But only if it's a fantasy.


I want to masturbate...

But I just did that...

I want to take a dump...

But I don't feel like it...


I want to pee...

I want to puke...

I want to feel...

I want to DO something...

Warm?


But I just don't feel like it...


I want to look into her eyes,

And tell her it's just a fling...

I want to have sex with her,

But only in a ghetto dream...


I would not actually touch her,

Unless she were my stroking hand,

I want to masturbate...


But I just did that.

This is me officially admitting who I am sexually ~ I fantasize, but I would never do what I "want" to if the opportunity came around... it would just be... disgusting.


Skye

Today I walked into our building...

I saw you... and you...

And the same boy,

Talking to the walls that he called friends.


I looked into your eyes,

And your eyes...

And your soul...

I didn't feel you burn my brain...

But I bet you felt me...


Today I realized that there is hope in this world...

Not you... you... or you.

I only see a sane reflection,

And your not standing by me.


I've learned to ignore you,

Because you bore me --- into a category...

One that I find pathetic...


Just like you?


Today was just like every other day...

Except today was one day closer...

To the day that I never have to see you again.

I tried to see the world through a friend's eyes... and this is what I came up with... simple enough? I screwed up on the poem though... the phrase "You bore me into a category" does not make enough sense... for my standards.


Poem About You

It’s time...

The moment I finally leap.

What got me here is not what lets me fall…

But I’ll fly just the same.


You call me…

I listen…

And it hurts…

Sometimes you really do.


I watch my skin…

Tare away from my face.

Sliding, slamming, tripping --- down this building.

I wish I didn’t slip…


Maybe the tears made me forget…


If only someone were there to catch me…

I guess I’d break their arms.

But that’s ok…

Maybe it all is.


Yesterday, do you remember that?

That’s when I heard it…

It was the last time I would ever listen.

You said it --- and all things later did not matter.


When I shot you…

When I killed you…

I did not cry.

We are all waste air with our thoughts...


At least I helped.


Life never had to make sense, and maybe it never will.

But I’ve given up… so I’ll never know what’s what.

Just promise me, when I cross onto your side…

That you won’t hate me… because I can’t murder…

...what’s already dead.

This poem was inspired by message board... hoard... chaos... and life's daily stresses... or at least the stresses I made out of life due to perception and that alone. Regardless, I did not kill anyone... and I don't even think the poem is about me... just feelings... all feelings.


Six Golden Towers

Looking up, I see a man,

Pains past from before,

Yet blood still soaks my hands.


I walk into a meadow,

A place where I do not belong,

Seeking out my own crescendo,

To complete my life’s song.


I fall into the flowers,

In this land beyond all seas,

Surrounded by golden towers,

A paradise, devoid of disease.


No one is here to love my face,

For I seek none to fuel this shine,

I feel divine in this enchanted place,

One day to hold my name as a sign.


Tonight I slowly close my eyes,

Beneath the sky of blue and gray,

Blinded by my twisted desire,

A mirage no doctor can take away.


Waking in a place I know too well,

Screams surrounding every inch of my mind,

The battle for heaven bringing on this hell,

The war sought out by my own man of kind.


I’ve lost an eye and the other brings on tears,

Every day I cry, trying to avoid inevitable fears,

I stand today, as a man, fighting the devils hold.


Running to the field, random commands I find,

Ignoring the general, I pull my pistol out of its bind.

6 Bullets a round, head shots the only target I desire,

A target found, he drops to the ground,

I shoot every demon crawling out of the fire.


Fighting for a cause I hemorrhage,

Hoping one day I can live my dream,

Singing my war chant I rage,

The angels begin to fall, allied to my team.


A demon calls me into the flames,

Taunting me, haunting me, but I won’t play his games,

Those who die in this war lose there souls trapped in hell forever,

The Demons demand we give up, screaming back I yell “Never!”


Fighting till the last flame burns out,

In victory chants I shriek and shout,

Looking around I see not a heart beats but still,

And so I walk into the future,

Beyond the corpse-covered hill.

This poem is simply talking about one person fighting for a world that they desire most. The poem mentions demons vs. angels, but it does not necessarily mean evil vs. good. This poem can be referring to anything from the Revolutionary War, to a more literal battle for heaven. The "Six Golden Towers" in translation is basically "Six Bullets a Round" --- each bullet saves a life, and each bullet takes a life. If you note, I rhymed differently in alternate locations all over the page, this is because sometimes I chose to use 5 lines in a stanza rather than 4 and I was attempting to make it seem like less so the flow could run more smoothly. Rhyming twice in one sentence can push the reader along more quickly.


Crutches In A Car Crash

They’re hurting me, I need my pills, always,

Help me! So many around, but to them I am futile, please,

They’re in cold shadows, still ignoring my cries, falling,

My mistake, the memory is killing me now, forgive,

Looking at the others, I wonder why I don’t just jump, down,

Pains, they’re so easy to get rid of, my legs, too young to feel this fragile, these,

A fall I fear, maybe I will roll, maybe I will just slide, steep,


I feel… I feel empty… something holds me back, weak,

Hollow, I’m bound to fall through if I don’t walk off now, stairs,

Weakened, where will I land? Impact… I break everything, knees,

In the above poem a pattern is present. If you look closely, on the right side (last words) it says "Always Falling Down Steep Stairs" and then "Please Forgive These Weak Knees". The message in itself contributes to the poem, and can be seen if you skip a line each word to combine them for proper syntax. What is also interesting is these same words can be used in a pattern to contribute to the actual sentences already organized in the poem. If you take the last word on each line and follow this patter of placement: 2121212 321 by placing the last word in the 1st 2nd or 3rd word of the sentence, the poem makes even more sense. Cool eh? I think so...


Ivory Slugs

Today I lost my first tooth.

Now my face hurts a little...

I guess…


I lost my tooth cause I bit my dad…

…when he tried to hit my mom.

She doesn’t need to hurt like I do.


Five Years


Today I found out I was the best student in class.

Everyone glares at me because of it though..

I don’t care...


I’m the best student.. some say it’s because I’m smart,

But the truth is I Cheat at everything I do.

Thanks to the internet...


Five Years


Today I got my first car.

The engine tends to mutter as if it’s dying though...

It still runs… right?


I “own” this car because some other guy didn’t want it bad enough…

When I put the gun in his face, a ll he did was ruin these seats.

Bastard…


Five Years


Today I was arrested for the first time…

Today I was almost a rich man…

If that security guard wouldn’t have pulled out his gun,

I wish I could say it was a good thing.

Poor tellers…

It was his fault…


I sit in this cell because five people are dead…

I’ve committed the largest felony in the state they say…

All because I wanted some money,

They say a lot of things.

At least I’m alive…

And now I wish I were dead...


Until Death

This poem does not need too much explanation, I wrote it while listening to a track from the Final Fantasy VII album... good stuff. The story does not relate to my life in any way... which made it even more entertaining to write. Regardless, "Five Years" explains the years in between each status... scenario. It's not supposed to be funny... so please assume otherwise if you laugh --- and finally notice the T.I. T.I. pattern... I put that there for flow, and so readers could feel as connection with all of the entries without actually knowing of the connection.


Jerk The Jerk

Every time I look in your face,

Your eyes are dead,

You don’t care for me,

And so I leave,

While you turn back,

And flip on the TV.


I walk to the deli,

And the man looks down on me,

He treats me with a frown,

He looks away,

It’s as if I’m last night’s whore…

I guess I’ll forget to pay.


The world seems to be turning,

And I want to go with the flow,

But it turns the opposite way,

And so I walk in circles,

Smiling like it’s summer,

Yet I’m being swallowed by snow.


I come home and you’re still here,

Staring at the screen,

Ignoring me.

I say there’s dinner,

Then you’ll care,

But instead I see your hand,

As if I’ll serve you.


It’s like every time I try,

I’m wrong.

Since the last day I cried…

I’m just a ghost now.


You’re a cripple,

Or so you act like it,

And I’m the mother’s breast,

It’s only there for when you want to…

Just flip back on the TV.


Gee kids, this was fun. I had a few moments where my mind was absolutely dry of what exactly I was going to write about. Regardless, after all the troubles, I ended up with the poem above. You can conclude however you wish as to what it means, because you're probably right now matter what you say as long as it is technically correct. So... best wishes on your journey to defining my poetic intentions.


Feeling Fine

I sit here, in my chair,

not wondering, not hoping,

not dreaming, only writing.


Today I could write a poem about love,

about anger,

about issues that I have never thought of before…

but I could…


I don’t want to try today,

I don’t feel like feeling.

I favor the presence of emptiness filled with foam.

At least I’m warm.


Will I die tomorrow?

Will my car give out in the middle of the highway?

The now does not care…

for now, I am fine.

I would love for you to screw the meaning of another poem up again... really I would. So please, do so freely as I leave no explanation for your mind to devour which, if in place of this statement, may have eventually justified conclusions referring to a lacking intelligence (directed at me) or regards directing ideas of my potential to some day turn out as one of the worst writers of all time. Take the above poem for what it is. If you are too slow to pick up on whatever messages I may be trying to send, try not to bleed out of your eye... so we have an understanding now do we? Good. Also, please remember, I'm not angry, I'm just misunderstood.


Misery In Ignorance

You came home last night,

And I suspect you...

Your strap was down,

So I suspect you.


Yesterday you wore a smile,

Sheltering your ugly face.

You were beautiful once…

The smile made it better,

But now I’ve lost the taste,

and I wish the trash would take itself out.


I love you for three reasons,

Two of them are worth a lot of money.

I think it’s time to leave,

Are you going to pay the taxi man?

I know you have no money,

Yet you get off the charge every time.


Now how do you do that?


11 Months, and two days…

I don’t think I will search for another.

You’re all the same… right?


I would write love poems for you,

For women...

I wonder how long you would stick around,

Three days? Maybe four?


I guess I’ll have to keep on loving your body,

And avoiding your mind, one in… everyone.


This really is just about my issues with girls, boys, people. I really don't like many members of my species due to their deception, dishonesty, and in this poem, infidelity. [shrugs] Sorry girls, but I mean every word of it... until I find someone different, I will continue to think the same way. That's how this is all supposed to work... right?