my teeth with wormholes + rotten gums
hot subway scent of yesterday’s vomit
they stick flower petals in
i dont talk pretty enough
they stick flower petals in
they spray paint my cunt golden
yr bedazzled craigslist panty token
how i don’t talk pretty enough
with legs wide open
they stick flower petals in
you always want a way to get off but
flowery poetry makes yr dick fuckin soft
god i dont talk pretty enough i dont talk
they stick flower petals in
apple seeds ferment in my sweat
grew in + that’s where they take petals
they take petals from my pink breasts
i snort my own ashes
i smell the grease off my skin
i suck off my fingers the lighter fluid
where i grew petals
fine pine needles between teeth
you strike the head
lips flower petals yours
we stay barefoot in grass
licking ice cream in finger crease
feeling acrid summer grease
our skinny remainder
forgetting we ever loved
rotten tooth. i vomit.
you stick petals in.
The song of the ney blends
with the dunes:
as ancient paths
follow footsteps out,
into the wilderness of the desert,
seeking a truth greater
than constricted life settled allows;
The percussion of the drum,
stopping at wells
dotting the scape, where,
the earth pours her agony forth
from her sorrowing depths,
the prophet's sons wept for God.
The grieving oases mourn
wound, of long
a heart searching the
sands, for one who gave his life
for the love of his Lord
here and his humble fellow man.
The allusion is to the Holy Land, where long ago, patriarchs wandered into the desert, seeking a greater Truth. Where by many wells, they settled seeking God. And where, an illustrious descendant transcended kin and race, to preach a universal gospel of love: 'Before Abraham was, I am' ...
The ney is a middle eastern reed flute, long associated with spiritual traditions of the region.
I remember the day I met you with such clarity. You remembered me, I didn't recall meeting you before. But you caught my eye, and there was something about you that made my heart skip a beat. Weeks turned into months, with little to no communication. But I couldn't get you out of my head or my heart. So I prayed. Prayed I would cross your mind. And I will never forget that Sunday night at three in the morning. You reached out to me out of nowhere, and we stayed up talking till four-thirty.
As the leaves began to change so did our friendship. Facebook messages turned into text messages, visiting you at work, studying at coffee shops, and late night conversations became a regular thing. And just like the leaves fall for winter, so I fell for you. But that was my mistake. Because, like the fool I am, I believed you would catch me. And you didn't. You invited me to take the risk, or as some would say: "you lead me on." And I fell hard. Hitting rock bottom and breaking into a million tiny pieces. You watched me fall-oblivious to the power you had over me.
Its one thing, to experience heartbreak from someone that was yours. Its another thing, though, to lose someone you never had. You was never mine to lose. The hardest I ever did, was forcing myself to walk away from you. Everyone told me I deserved better. It took four months to believe them.
Now, I'm sitting at the coffee shop we used to go to, alone, watching the sleet hit the ground on this cold december day. I deleted our messages, and we are no longer Facebook friends- and I hope you know that was not easy for me. Because I miss you and our laughs and 3AM conversations. But I also know that this is what I need to move forward, to heal. I'm not saying goodbye forever but for now. And I pray that someday we can be friends again.
This is not how I planned the story of us ending. But someone recently told me the best way to make God laugh is by having a plan. No more planning. No more trying to understand why things happened the way they did. Because I'm not meant to understand-I'm meant to trust that God will turn my disintegrated ashes into something beautiful and radiant. And he will. Someday, I will find someone who treats me the way I deserve.
Someday, things will be beautiful again.
Someday, my story won't end in tragedy.
You said I was the best,
you said that
As you drunkenly horse pet my face
then I said something
nowhere near as funny as I thought it was
but you laughed anyway
laughed as I told you I wanted to see your face on the other side of that glass pane
oh but you'll come visit me right?
of course I will say I'll visit you
but between you and me
plane tickets are expensive and I've always been a man of leisure
No lazy is not the right word
it's definitely leisure
you were scared
God knows why
as scared as I am when the time comes when I see you in person
a moving statue to the things I hold close
you said I was the best,
believe it or not,
as you drunkenly horse pet my face
and I said
only when it comes to you
I feel like giving up
My , once deep, reservoir
Has been drained
Drained by the countless people
Saying things to me
I hate me
I wish just for once that someone would care
Maybe I'm not being reasonable
Maybe I'm being over sensitive
Maybe I'm being stupid
O how I wish I was stupid
But I am far from that
And maybe the smarter you get
The emptier your reservoir becomes
Thays the only explanation
The other one was just me grasping
Grasping for something to understand
That just for once in my
Piece of shit
That maybe just once
I would be Ok
I would be someone else
I understand not my life
your life is not made to be understood
but then why did you give me this
because you need to understand not to understand
I will not
I dont want to be who I am
Make me someone else
But not somebody smart
O god no
Make me someone stupid
I hate being who I am
if you can please help me
Confused now and need to sit and think about what I think about religion.
Reading something posted by a dude writing about being a good religious
person then turns around and says amen to trash talking somebody.
Can you say hypocrite or is that the way of religious in America?
I've got a few Christmas traditions and they cost me more than I can afford.
I'm paying off credit cards long after Jolly old St. Nick's season is over.
I accept that I over spend and admit to not being frugal with my money.
I accept others who do the same at Christmas when man expects you to
spend on credit to save face so you don't look like a no gifting jerk to all.
What I can't accept are Americans faking being religious and lying.
How can you call yourself a Christian when you get angry over stupid shit?
How can you goto church on Sunday but hate your neighbor?
Kings James version of the bible lists the seven deadly sins of mankind.
I know religious people who commit sins of pride, covetousness, lust, anger,
gluttony, envy, sloth and know many more who have broken commandments.
I'm not religious and don't know how I can be with abundance of fake in religion.
We got fake religious people posting poetry about being Christians but
they turn around and say mean ass shit in poems about other poets.
Can you say hypocrite? Religious people writing poems hurting feelings?
What is fake and what is real when it comes to religion? Watching all the messed
up things religious people do in America has me confused and hating fake
religious claiming to believe in God.
Everyones looking for wealth and always have they hand out for more
but what's a dollar to success if you morally poor?
what's the point of being a king without respect for the throne?
why say you independent, when you can barely hold your own...
ya called me out and said "He stopped writing with passion"
"He's writing for a deal, hasn't been the same since "They Keep Asking"
Mentally I'm basking...taking in the sun
closing my eyes at night, dreaming about what I might become.
I'm figuring out all my mistakes while drawing a few plans
strengthening up my posture, so I can be the model of a grown man.
Life's a bitch and I'm patiently waiting to met her, imma dress to the nine,
with pistol when I greet her!
cause she's taken every bit of my sanity and soul
shes left me for dead at the end of casualty road
but this I definitely know, I hate her but owe her one
it was her challenges she threw me that made me who I've become.
I'm in touch with my demons and have conversations with the monster
any obstacle in my way, I so easily conquer!
Look up when I walk, confident when I talk
got up from the crime scene and cleaned up all the chalk.
Refused to settle for death even when there seemed like no return
God sent me here to guide all who is lost, teach those willing to learn.
Just worry about you, don't live life waiting for others to approve
remember we was built to win, but born to lose.
Society will pick and choose
Very rarely is it acceptant
Forget them and their bullshit, look up and accept your reflection.
- Dougie Simps
'Cause, Darling, I swear to God
I'd die for you
So would it kill you
To just stay alive
Although far removed from the great Sahara I by chance met Saharazad in the market place she
Wore white she registered from cute to beautiful excuse the personal reference but this is all
About feelings I wore brown it is another way to be invisible weight is the greatest disconnect
You are truly ignored in school I was known as the class clown at home I was the life of the
Party even when I took computer classes I just reverted back talking out loud having the
Teacher laughing too this time but as I said before as a searcher you can’t be joining everything
In eight years I have been to my family’s home three times and one of those times was because
I got a false report that one of them had died sadness and loneliness is a requirement to see
And pearse the inner world of the soul you truly must be on the outside so let me continue to
Relate this lovely creature I happened upon her smile could cause a minor accident gorgeous it
Was just short of jumping on a carousel but better all the color and lights and music was
Emanating from her loveliness her white attire only increased the pleasure isn’t that what you
See worn a lot when one dances to the Viennese Waltz just showing you what you miss and
Don’t see such gentle beating of the heart from a human fount and then she speaks and the
Music begins brick and asphalt you have never been so blessed then you mix in sky and sun it’s
An experience to die for eyes of wonder you bring down the thunder and without doubt the
Attending mist to the eyes the mind you stand in one place but your back in years gone by she
Was wonderful then now she is dreamy truly the stuff that dreams are made of oh God
Consecrate these dreams to immortal feats and deeds make those that feel so alone they are
Being fooled and harmed by the enemy I have been in your school of instruction for a long time
And I attest these feelings and facts are sound Sarazard is more than imagination but she is the
Root and beauty of true life Thank you Father that she is my friend and I choose to share with
All who will read this if everything feels mundane and worthless you are in a bad place where
Lies Are ruling come and be free I can’t give you her address but I have shown her unmasked
And the realness of the person that she is blessings to her and you