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Jeremy Betts Mar 30
My heart slips through it's ribbed cage
Falling under yet another set of feet
A familiar stage
A loop on repeat
The same dawn but a new age
Always ample cover-ups at the ready
Cautionary over reactionary
But underneath?
Every single forced receipt
Enraged I scramble to free it,
Ignorant of the gamble
Placed on a vague label
One that won't be held accountable
Broken in every way imaginable
Clearly fragile
Watch it unravel
No finesse
Rage and anger fills the absence
Losing the rhythm of life's presence
Leaving hand in hand with it's unique purpose
Taking notice that this will be the last defeat

©2024
Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
When I say I care little about you
Please know it's the absolute full amount of truth
I hate that I can't scream it at you
Won't forget all you put us through
Just another father on paper, a DAD tattoo
I swore it wouldn't be a preview
Now I look in the mirror and take a swing at you
I try to break through to this other dimension too pull you through
Take back a lifetime that doesn't belong to you
Do my best too squeezed it out of you
Count to three, pull on two, forced to play and pay what's due
Not on queue, but life caught up with you
Couldn't have happened too a more deserving fool, though way overdue
I didn't cling to tissue, I knew I wouldn't miss you
Already grieved for you back in '02
And I knew I'd never let the son of your son know you
Not as a man I knew, not as nothin' but a cautionary tale of what not to do
With both middle fingers to the earth I say thank you

©2023
Jeremy Betts Jun 2023
Forget it...and forget you for even trying to think you could out run it. You can't handle this shiit nor can you hide from it, should probably quit or at least tone it down a bit, it's starting to get a bit pathetic.
It's already got you, it owns you, I told you. If you are hearing this then it's too late, there's nothing you can do. Sorry not sorry, can't say I didn't warn you. It don't matter if you believe it or not to be true.
It doesn't need you to accept it or to co-sign, it'll provide proof of what it can do in it's own time, in a lone rhyme that sends chills through your bones, directly down your yellow spine
Fuuck, they like to say they're just words but are they? These are like sticks and stones that break bones in a unique way, blacking out your heart and steal your soul away and it starts today...

...with me sitting here writing fear like a smear campaign, an assault on your ear that's so sincere, so severe that it'll appear to adhere to all you hold dear like an unwanted souvenir, make it real as the blood that'll smear from the front to the rear of my Chevy Cavalier from the people who use to be here but were met with the same fate as a lost deer wondering in the freeway just north of here. I know you can hear but have I done enough to make myself perfectly clear?

To make it known that I'm not one you want to mess with unless you've got a death wish, if you want to rot on your own cot in your own personal grave plot I've got the perfect spot to lay you down, plant you in you're own ceramic flower ***, but then I thought I oughta bought a big enough plot of land to lay down all who fall from this onslaught, a verbal Juggernaut but you can still come at me and take a shot if you want

And if you do, if that's the case then by all means, name the time and place cause I prefer face to face, I have this twisted trait that allows me to demonstrate how to create a ****** case, how to keep pace and champion a death race, how to get CSI looking at a piece of cheese on the end of a string i placed under a milk crate after a wild goose chase, not a trace of evidence just a message on the back of a bookcase to further the foot race, so check your shoe lace, you don't want to trip up and fall on your face while running from a phrase like trying to escape your goth days, a ridiculous phase

I lay it out plain and simple, just one well placed word or thought out syllable that will cause a tsunami title wave ripple that'll ******* any defence like Clearasil on a pimple, not a complicated riddle unless you're the monkey in the middle. It'll sit a little easier if we can keep it civil after the acquittal, critical thinking will get you through the hassle, to the end of the castle to save the princess but that's not the end of the battle, the system we're in is not a Nintendo, no Atari with a wired joystick paddle, these words are the detergent just added, nowhere near the rinse cycle, one wrong move could be fatal, if you think this a fable you could be one of the ones to wined up on an autopsy table

But it's damage to your psyche not your body that brought you to one knee, words they said couldn't harm obviously do have that ability, I grip that knowledge firmly, hold on tightly like it's a master key, the bounty is set and out, don't try to flee, got your mind hazy, to foggy to see, no friendly face here, no card to get out of jail free, these words that flow so easy from me hold you in captivity and break you down slowly, fully emersed, wrapped in perverse words like a mummy, held captive in this verse like a dummy, a cursed hostage with no request for no money, no escape once I've got thee and test out my theory that clearly I can do just as much damage with word trickery as one could do with assault and battery or a quick slice of a main vain artery but with no evidence visually I get away scott-free

So listen with caution, this cautionary tale is not spun to further the friction, there's not a fraction of this that's fiction, it's just that I can't stop what's already begun, what's done is done, I've won, your defenses are broken, the threat was one not as obvious as a gun so you thought it innocent fun but the jokes on you son, as soon as you read the caption it was straight to the coffin, my words just happen to often be a little somethin' like Jason, Mr Voorhees on a couple ****** sprees, tape shows once the chasings begun it would do no good to run, a fusion of life and illusion to cause mass confusion and frighten to the point you die of a brain contusion, written in a way that there's no coming back from, fallen from grace, in continuous motion as you fall through the bottom of your rock bottom, a deep chasm, a dark ocean, it's going to be grousome but by that point I'm on to the next one cause I know the outcome, you were ****** from before you could even apply caution,  before you realized you should use a life line to call someone, its already become something that could never be undone, don't look for a cure cause I can assure there ain't none. There's no fun in the remedy so I take action to make sure there ain't one

©2023
Kris Fireheart Apr 2023
There's something
Over when you're
Sober

Something missing
In your mind.

When you've
Passed on,
And starting
Over,

There's something
You leave
Behind.

And now it's
Over,
Now I'm sober
And I'm supposed
To be fine....

But I'm not Over
What I found
When I was lost
In my mind...
68 days sober, trippy *** dreams, and I still feel like I'm missing something. No more coking and smoking for me. Seeing what it does to my roommate made me never want to do it again. That and my court case, of course.
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2020
Poppies
Paradise
And playing the moon game
With the last vestiges of sin
All a memory forgotten
Have no fear
Drink it in
You children of
The Valley of
Ten Thousand Smokes

The life in you
Has passed on
you’ve become nothing
but fire and wax and regrets.
you’ve become a cautionary tale,
a warning of loving too much too fast
you’ve become a memory
in a long list of lovers, of tragedies

you’ve become nothing
but ash and feathers and bone,
you’ve become a story,
a tale of boys who fell for suns
you’ve become a glimpse,
a moment of clarity that ends all too soon
29 août 2020
3:10 pm
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
Sad reflections from
donated dreams.
Charity's
fallen embers.
Like a high UV index
they burn right into
your skin.
Freckling
your thoughts with a bit of compromise.

Close your eyes
to the possibility
inertia
has made itself at home.
You'll feel it, feel it
right to the bone.
But you crossed that bridge
long ago.
In the time of
tranquil misgivings.
You gave consent to
sin by offering up
your sons and daughters.
Drowning them
in the shallow end of dissipated water.

Sing hymns
all you like.
Piety
is not for sale.
And the angel light
that hits the wall
is not in the shape of Mary.
Evil always figures into
these things.
Don't you know? Heat rises. Blood falls.

So burn your prayers
on a stick. Roast them
in the campfire. You'll never turn
to God until you lie
dying. Broken and heaving.
Asking for forgiveness.
Which a man of cloth
will grant.
Such a charmed life to leave.

Only it's a cheat.
A spoonful
of circumvention.
Making you feel
warm and clever
as you bleed out. Regrettably,
your vacuous heart
sailed off on the Greta Garbo
and mortgaged
your future for such marquee.
Banking on the
here and now.
From this there can be no redemption.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Never
sell
your
dreams

...to
the
first
offer
A Simillacrum Sep 2018
Beside a full size bed,
full of destiny and dream,
a corpse dressed up
to fit among
the living, softly sleeps.

Carving sAl(i)vAtiOn in black
marker on the walls,
recounting upset memories,
I stick the landing.
I didn't plan to stay

In this depressive state,
but I'm fully equipped.
Adaptable to necessity,
without trying to fit.
I may be sad, reclusive,
virulent at my worst --

When will you
come to terms with this curse?
When will you learn
it's best
you be
who you
need?

When will you
fall in love with this curse?

When will you learn,
there's plenty room
for the misfit?
The Bible is replete with many
cautionary tales, of real people,
who have stumbled on their path
of Faith; like us, their journey

was fraught with unexpected woe.
Momentary mental lapses remind us,
of the need to capture detrimental
desires and thoughts; when we go,

anywhere without His Presence, we
take foolish risks. Are priorities
in alignment with His plan for our
lives? Are we, now hoping to see,

an escape from our accountability?
We must stay steadfast in our Godly
commitments and responsibilities;
if we fail, how will The World see…

that God is still relevant to Mankind?
Inspired by:
Matt 6:33; 2 Cor 10:5; 2 Tim 1:7

Learn more about me and my poetry at: amazon (dot) com

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2018, All rights reserved.
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