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Leslie Philibert Sep 2015
At twentythirtyfour
On the eleventhofseptember
     a neuropathological tracer

Jumped from the box,
Lost poem; a title over rain
    men waving tins at a tractor,

And the later sleeping wihout
Rest; rooms full of waves,
    the ineluctable modality of water.
Published in `Icebox Journal`.
Sonny Feb 2015
Freely Vulnerability.

Senses are released
Talk about you, talk about me.
Where is the understanding of university? Us or We?

As if the air becomes too thick to breathe.
Gentle screaming of ignorance.
Coughing up my plateful entreƩ of broken memories.

Full of Love, Full of Hate.
Evil contradiction flossing between my neuropathological pathways.
Tell me this and telling me that
Let's go do this or **** mate lets go smoke crack!

Then again it suddenly feels too real.
Reincarnated of birth again.
A small baby pure eyes with nothing to fear.
Everything's gonna be alright dear.
Reality strikes and baby needs Love.
Gasping for life to fill my lungs!
Even when your blind.
Seeing ain't so.
Hard to remember if mother was dying while blood stopped bumping with the beat.
Categorized in Booz, hate, disbelief.

Standing over organized chaos.
Trying to persuade how to be the best.
Yeeeeet. You got to BE.
Don't react in failure but Act out on the success of futuristic possibilities.

Accompany others to help shine their inner souls.
No matter the exposure always let them know how much they are
no comparison to others or other things.
Materials are made and used
Don't let brainwash propaganda distract you from the clues to live for.

Be patient and don't go overboard.
Reevaluate and double check if the senses are really coming down from way back.

Let yourself be evolution to the fullest.
Never expect to be always sharp. Just have a core that will never be thrown away.

Forever more.

Au revoir.

— The End —