Author Information
UN or.Gina.lity
Stand back
as the virginpoet
clears her throat
and begins
to spit
messages
from my
beautifully
orchestrated
inner light
of ultimate
eternal being
Why should I
pour out my heart
and let you
see me bleed
try to steal
my blood
your not type O
soon you'll fade
wither
in your
weakness
without words
to plagiarize
Why should I
sit back
and allow you
to perform your
heartless deed
When a part of me
a big part of me
is hurting
my heart
has been
ripped
from me
It's Nine o'clock
I speak of weariness
in purple sighs
while stars paint
the gloomy sky
And the lady (UN) or.Gina.lity
bemoans her dead babies
Do you feel
like a star now
copycatting
mimicking
my thoughts
my heart beats
did your heart
die
did it
loose
its rhythm
Masturbation
tweaks the dirty
Lil secretive mind
Fellatio plays
teasing mount
of pendulums swing
Guilt hushes your moan
"be quiet or they will hear you"
Self gratification
was it not worth
fictional sweat
Back to peeling layers
off your walls
of UN or.Gina.lity
So hungry for attention
well you got mine
I could burn you to ash
but the stench of falsehood
and the shackles of guilt
Have taken out our eyes
You've been cordially invited
Finder of Gold
Yet
My Heart
was ripped
from open chest
You see a woman
in a blizzard distorted
Visions of truths
No plagiarist could be as good as me
Down the spiral slide I collide
Pounding neath this breastbone
my empty cavity echoes distress
Rage climbs into great tension
and I must release my thoughts
perhaps my attempts can solve
to let me rest in utter peace
When tears blot blurring words
my insomnia relieves and fades
upon paper baring scars of ink
Omitting me unto somnolence
I'm the poet
who had you
glued to her pages
getting a rush
from the aroma
of my ink
Poetry is a drug
and I am the dealer
Poetry is air
I breathe it in
exhaling addiction
to the masses
You've tried
to steal
my breath
But all you get
is whats exhaled
Never understanding the true
nature of a poem
You'll never feel it
as deeply
as did my heart
Your holding on to beats
of the past
With trembling tips of fingers
stumble upon tedious backs
and crack bones
they muster plagiarism
into pamphlets
They spruce up
what little is left
of my hearts blood flow
ink through my veins
or.Gina.lity my ass
more like UN or.Gina.lity
Plagiarism
is not a form
of flattery
It ranks
in the class
of forgery
In the passage of time
Your work is a vanishing smile
on the face of real talent
Perfect plagiarism regretfully true
You really did have GS fooled
as to the real you
Plagiarizer of real ORIGINALITY
Must be maddening
recreating each failure
for us all to see
again and again
Look how hard
you tried this time
its almost sad
watching you fail
But I know the truth
I know who you really are
Your poems of hate
have no sway over me
I know your only pretending
Sometimes my words
come hard
a labor
days birthing
a vision
Sometimes they come
quite easy
flowing
with such ease
written for one's pleasure
but some can't help be sleazy
they'll change the title phrase
or twist a line or two
then claim it as their own
swearing it to be the truth
unbeknownst more than once
if I'm not mistaken
my words have been reshaped
or just simply taken
some liberties expected
but some I won't condone
I don't find it flattering
no matter what is said
a thief is all you are
a feeling-napper
a thought raper
a forger
of true
works
of art
works
of the
heart
My style
ever changing
like the outfits I ware
I broaden
my horizons
or.Gina.lity
can keep my style
she'll be stuck
in the past
left in the dirt
I'm the new season
watch my fire burn
I leave a trail
of ashes in my wake
By Samantha Campbell
