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allan-e-bartlett
American
On the crowded streets of life (think 51st and 5th) I never thought I'd stumble on a candied ginger rock Out of which the most gorgeous daisy would bloom Remember the moonbeams dancing on the river and how the train came not far behind, popcorn, wine, the candle still burning & Zimmerman on track 5? Cold and warm nights spent together in the Theatre Basement Showcasing romance, Comedy, Drama & Jazz Sharing mysterious pleasures we thought we'd never have Stepping in and out of reality barely touching ground Soaking up sun on god's great handkerchief Witnessing the transcendent beauty in your face
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:34 PM UTC
Stumble & Fall
How can you conveniently more fit Me inside of you, your life What do you expect inspector? Granted I can't fool you for too long Goodbye to solitude only in your presence I say farewell to folk on most occasions Expect rain on rainy days and sunshine You are Conceited in the mind yet don’t realize How lost you can't find nor be Found inside chocolate boxes of youth Nor flower petals of petulance Your eyes burn with exhaustion and rage Locked like a bird in your cage So tight wrapped up coiled like A snake ready to strike full of Poison and venom Medusa in Reverse
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:31 PM UTC
Gorgon
We tweaked on/off for hours at mischievous hotels Sporadic neon lights flashing in/out Missy, on nights so long came with you sweet and short I could never hum or retort a pretty song Its now been long enough princess once in Daddy's eyes blood shot with staggered grin In this desolate town the vault comes tumbling down in pieces over the unfinished heads below While it gathers at our feet Missy, rising ever more inch by inch piling in places such as our present, our past Soon to make us like statues in the great museum of the mind let me hold you, just one last time
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Honeyspot Hotel
We tweaked on/off for hours at mischievous hotels Sporadic neon lights flashing in/out Missy, on nights so long came with you sweet and short I could never hum or retort a pretty song Its now been long enough princess once in Daddy's eyes blood shot with staggered grin In this desolate town the vault comes tumbling down in pieces over the unfinished heads below While it gathers at our feet Missy, rising ever more inch by inch piling in places such as our present, our past Soon to make us like statues in the great museum of the mind let me hold you, just one last time
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Honeyspot Hotel
She's last year's model. Scouring the sewers now For a temporary replacement How the times go fast. This time, every time, nothing Seemed to go right always - Always some marginal error That grows magically in magnitude Dare not speak of tragedies Hidden well by silence and Plastic drapery strategically hung To hide how we really felt Left unattended those veins And arteries that once Sweet Dopamine and Oxytocin flowed Congeal, clog, atrophy and collapse Shedding a carcass of love Full of bittersweet memories Exposed to the elements within To be plastered over by time
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
The Catacombs
sadness how could I ever forsake the sacred? indeed child sometimes we seem to forget where we come from on our way to where we are our current plans for tomorrow i never forgot i just didn't always remember. stigmas of the past social tap dance transgressions left me aghast; mouth agape confused marinating it never mattered, nothing did. that was the motto life long LSD lessons to follow at times not adequate others still so hollow make room for others and make room for tomorrow
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:28 PM UTC
sipping diner coffee with swollen lips
keeping warm by that old stove kicking back shots and always a beer in hand we lived as if nothing could ever matter for nothing ever changed the same man sleeping at six or seven having passed out from half-a-days work and a hard days drinking sitting around there for warmth some kind of something men don't often talk about much women there were hard to find, not for lack of trying they just always seemed so out of place when they did actually appear extending the night was the main concern making the most out of the ample time given to us trying desperately to squeeze out juice from every instant with anything free at hand retreating back to sofas for sleep waking up with head aches intolerable beer cans all around going hard because there was no where to go debasing our minds with the nights succulent spoils tabbed pilled or powder madness feels like sanity at the right moment knowing full well it can't be caught as it slips through your fingers only to be inhaled the following friday then blown away once again at day break a perpetual mind **** was the goal with actual ******* just secondary reasoning living to forget what it means to be alive in this world where identity has been distilled to mere pages in an infinite book that doesn't really exist what else to expect from shattered youth abused mainly by design but also by choice you could class it all up increase the age and ornament add black books, black dresses black ties champagne & chandeliers still dormant at its core as time passes and falls apart the fire still there burns even in museums at midnight Dionysus consumes Apollo so warm your hands for as long as you can it only grows more insipid increasingly cold and bitter both the truth and the liquor till everything’s but a pause and black
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:27 PM UTC
Hedonist Garage
keeping warm by that old stove kicking back shots and always a beer in hand we lived as if nothing could ever matter for nothing ever changed the same man sleeping at six or seven having passed out from half-a-days work and a hard days drinking sitting around there for warmth some kind of something men don't often talk about much women there were hard to find, not for lack of trying they just always seemed so out of place when they did actually appear extending the night was the main concern making the most out of the ample time given to us trying desperately to squeeze out juice from every instant with anything free at hand retreating back to sofas for sleep waking up with head aches intolerable beer cans all around going hard because there was no where to go debasing our minds with the nights succulent spoils tabbed pilled or powder madness feels like sanity at the right moment knowing full well it can't be caught as it slips through your fingers only to be inhaled the following friday then blown away once again at day break a perpetual mind **** was the goal with actual ******* just secondary reasoning living to forget what it means to be alive in this world where identity has been distilled to mere pages in an infinite book that doesn't really exist what else to expect from shattered youth abused mainly by design but also by choice you could class it all up increase the age and ornament add black books, black dresses black ties champagne & chandeliers still dormant at its core as time passes and falls apart the fire still there burns even in museums at midnight Dionysus consumes Apollo so warm your hands for as long as you can it only grows more insipid increasingly cold and bitter both the truth and the liquor till everything’s but a pause and black
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I make such effort to reconcile what was thought yesterday in dreams written by capricious colors and shapes with what was handed down to me in the reality of the situation. Scrambling through madness chasing after issues brought forth by parents bestowing hope to what should really be the hopeless. Sarte taught us better even still it appears self determination is not enough Not Enough. Those words clamor through every facet of my existence somehow still not enough still still not enough _ _ _ "Everything’s gonna be alright", Words I can't understand. So I push forward without consent To the place where the road end.
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
Perpetual Motion
I lost yesterday still trying to catch up to tomorrow The presents of today yet unwrapped, like a child I am impetuous I can never let go the dreams concocted amid day light hours The wishes to be a better man... Yet I've never found the courage or power to do better than I am Children are playing elegantly unaware of the city's breadth and all it's despair in the midst I mutter lost in life's snare My bottle now empty the parkground my bed My burned out eyes collapse as I lay back my head
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:22 PM UTC
Park Song
I’ve lost my muse, I’ve lost it all Give me some liquor and I swear I’ll stand tall Tall enough to touch hands with God Or at least high enough to fall Fall from his graces, To a place where on my knees I’ll crawl For forgiveness in damp caves at dusk Creeping through bile, pustules and **** To a place somewhere said in between Heaven and Hell, it’s there I’ll be seen
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Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 5:51 PM UTC
In Between