Exquisite Corpse 3. Made by Spring Creative Writing Class

The cracked window wouldn't let the sunshine inside.
We're not made for tragedies or rainbows
sit back and watch in order to understand
it's a hard thing to do when you don't know what you're watching
What are you watching?
I don't know about you, but I love screens filled with fuzz;
its like trying to make sense of grey matter. When you look at it
the  clouds keleidescope and suddenly the color spectrum splits and there is
nothing but white fading fast amongst
tree tops and ladybirds and hungry ghosts
devour my soul in colors and light
watch me glow throughout the night
like a flashlight in your mouth
you choke on metal light beams.

© 2014 Lex Vex et al.

Exquisite Corpse 2. Made bySpring Creative Writing Class

Some small child is tugging at the mosses
breaking barriers and begging for attention.
Just shut up already!
Stop up your lips with glass coke bottles
your cherry chapstick lingers on my lips
and I can feel the ghostly tingle
creeping along my surfaces.
Bugs always tickle my hands
but watch out for butterflies! They're dangerous-
different in size but comparable in fear.
This poem is hard to write,
but I pry open my skull and fish for salt water
and sink into my abyss which is formally reffered to as a soul.
No soul. No guilt. No pain, And no love
Yet there's something to be said for always having hope.
But that something is said way too much.
I could think of better four lettered words
I could think of better things all together. 

©2014 Lex Vex 

How to Know if You Read Right.

Help! I'm lost!
Stuck in-between the pages. My fingers are
clamped in the binding and my eyes
have been krazy-glued to the page numbers.

Help! I'm trapped!
I'm someone that I'm not-
I smolder in her anger
I am hollow with his despair.
Their love. His hate. My heart.
Empathy is a powerful thing.

Help! I'm stuck!
I cannot rip away my gaze
I know more through their printed lives
about my own
than through the beaming sun and
rippling winds around me.

Help! I'm done!
There's nothing left to read.
The dust jackets zipped
and I can no longer caress the skin
of my pages.
Suddenly I know nothing about myself.
I found myself inside a book,
but it has run away again.

©2010-2014 Lex Vex

Exquisite Corpse 1. Made by Spring Creative Writing Class

This world has too much hate..
This room feels like a furnace-
heat rises and fills the room like clouds in a water bottle
pouring down pressure, warm pleasure: Pain all at once
I am free. A masochistic shepherd of
ideas and false security/hope
building a fortress at of these to drown me
I lie motionless, alone in your wake,
the emotion of bones that refuse to quake.
Everywhere bones, in you right now and underground
under water
dangers electric slide electric eels
comically slipping on a banana peel.
This circus has gotten out of hand.
I've left the park for the dark outside
I want to see your darks and your brights
Or bad vs. evil, however you'd like to look
or close your eyes if you prefer.
Stress sucks.

©2014 Lex Vex and the rest of Prof. L's Poetry and Fiction Class

Anyone who played Videogames under the Covers when you were Supposed to be Asleep

sitting alone, in my bed, in the dark
I free cities. men, women and child.
The darkness blinds from all but the holy light of the screen
so bright I feel the warmth of an artificial
sun
that one, there,
glowing above
as I witness my friends abandon the cause
leaving me
to SOLDIER on
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

The enemies models dart around
and my blade is poised, en-gaurd,
to strike.
Two maybe three moves:
a thrust and chop then fillet.
If all else fails,
I will splinter their bones
with magic.
Invisible, my fingers move, marionetting
a hand to swing a guillotine and
sing a death knell.
I can run forever
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

They will attack from every what way,
but nothing can
stop
my ascent of the damned man. and I will walk
surrounded by fire
burning to strive, striving to teach, teaching to learn, learning to love and
loving to burn.
Endless cycles echo into the night as dawn's petty pace draws close
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

There is but one final battle fuming on the horizon
and I can almost feel
the drums of
war
behind an eight bit soundtrack.
As my reapers prepare,
I drag my only remaining brother
to the rocks.
His parchment face camouflages
richly into the tombstone pixels.
-a light in the hall flashes a warning-
They march and I walk
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

-A Loud Wrapping Upon My Door-
my sword should shine lighting
in the sun
but creeping stains of rust
forshadow its honor
-able end. 
i have brought a stick to a Gun Fight.
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark.

-the door creeks open- 
and so I dance on my own grave.
 WILL YOU TURN
THAT
DAMN THING OFF
AND GO TO
SLEEP?!

no more light in my hand
no more light in the hall
my electronic universe is holed up on the shelf.
I take off my glasses to think
of school days tomorrow
sitting alone in my bed, in the dark. 

©2010-2014 Lex Vex

Frequency of Posts:

I am going to be doing a lot more fiction writing, so time between posts may take longer. However, I do have some older material that I might start posting, so you might have that to look forward to!

Propaganda & Persuasion - A Nonce Poem (Book Cutout)

Title Page:

 Some Nonce Poems for your entertainment. A destruction of the book, Propaganda and Persuasion by Jowett O'Donnell

Poem:

©2014 Lex Vex