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joshuaalan
joshuaalan
The more I live, the less I know.
They opened their eyes to a rainy day and even before the thought of sleep had gone away the call to arms was heard, by all of man with butterflies they each stood tall rifles at the ready and with thoughts of home... and of friends like you the battle wore on red and cold each side taking losses for one gained and friends and lovers they lay slain and lines they moved on, forward each refusing to forgive and the sky grew awfully dark At home she sits alone as tears fall with her eyes on the television set Images of the war sweep across her face the firefight and bomb's light illuminate and her mind is on one man... and out there in the night he is fighting Through the smoke and night he picks the flight for each little bird to sing it's song and he pulls the trigger and paints the sky and with a prayer he whispers her name and he hopes to see her face again... and she is crying and the rain falls with the shells and the blood And men And friends And lovers At home she sits alone as tears fall with her eyes on the television set Images of the war sweep across her face The firefight and bomb's light illuminate And on her mind is one man And the rain falls with the shells and the blood And men And friends And lovers
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
She Sits Alone
Children wake up Mommies kiss their heads Daddies go to work to make some money Or Mommies do instead We learn all that we can to be so smart we eat our carrots to see in the dark And the Darkness comes in at the end of each day to signal the end of play And we go to sleep again And begin Daddy said to play fair Mommy always told me to remember and share Don’t watch too much television Say thank you for what you have been given Eat your peas don’t climb up tall trees. And the Darkness comes in at the end of each day to signal the end of play And we go to sleep again And begin Mommy said don’t ask stupid questions Daddy said just because Read the instructions before use Sit down, shut up “the rules are the rules” Don’t play with your food And the Darkness comes in at the end of each day to signal the end of play And we go to sleep again And begin School said the world spins Round and round about the sun In a universe shot out of a gun “a million to one” Mommy said don’t have too much fun And the Darkness comes in at the end of each day to signal the end of play And we go to sleep again And begin
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
go ask mom
hummmm- its there in her head, never ending, tonedeaf, dead it buzzes without pause it dims the yellow sneaking out of the small lamp by the side of her twin bed on it she sits wearing nothing but covers, and the one bracelet made by her lover it is silence, but it is so loud the digital 2-4-2 stares at her as it has for what seems like hours is it in her head, beneath her matted hair? or outside behind the dark curtains? with every bit that still exists, she shuts her eyes to sleep, counting each and every awkward sheep if boredom has a voice it is here now with a hum, talking from the deep
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
lamp, bracelet, 2-4-2, hair
the dry creaking again stirs from behind-- just behind. It's touch-less grasp sends shivers up your side in an uncomfortable embrace. You are wrapped up, snuggled, in this cold. It burns. An abusive lover. One you love to hate. Always. Always right in your ear. Whispering. Whispering "truths" with a lying tongue. The long descriptions lull you into complacency with creamy vocabulary, the comfort of steamed milk and espresso. ...and you dance with deception to a slow waltz. You wonder to yourself where you learned how to dance like this, you must have always known it. It feels natural. The rhythm feels like your heart beat. You must have always known this. Your thoughts feel like an echo your thoughts feel like an echo. -you miss a beat- Who said that? Tighter the web weaves leaving little wiggle room. The room feels stale as the lights fade. Something... something slips your mind. Something you have always known. It dances too... just on the edge of consciousness. There at the end of the tunnel. Towards that light. The Light. Suddenly stumbling, your head spins. You feel a rush as the beat picks up. The steps are too fast to keep up -but you dance. Your head is heavy like waking from a thick drunk. The Light tears into you. You glitter through the holes left by something from another life. You shine. The others... have stopped. They notice you- are different. You are changed. What was stale and dark now fresh and white. The air is cold and fast. And comforting. And it feels feels like... Love.
0
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
A new dance
the dry creaking again stirs from behind-- just behind. It's touch-less grasp sends shivers up your side in an uncomfortable embrace. You are wrapped up, snuggled, in this cold. It burns. An abusive lover. One you love to hate. Always. Always right in your ear. Whispering. Whispering "truths" with a lying tongue. The long descriptions lull you into complacency with creamy vocabulary, the comfort of steamed milk and espresso. ...and you dance with deception to a slow waltz. You wonder to yourself where you learned how to dance like this, you must have always known it. It feels natural. The rhythm feels like your heart beat. You must have always known this. Your thoughts feel like an echo your thoughts feel like an echo. -you miss a beat- Who said that? Tighter the web weaves leaving little wiggle room. The room feels stale as the lights fade. Something... something slips your mind. Something you have always known. It dances too... just on the edge of consciousness. There at the end of the tunnel. Towards that light. The Light. Suddenly stumbling, your head spins. You feel a rush as the beat picks up. The steps are too fast to keep up -but you dance. Your head is heavy like waking from a thick drunk. The Light tears into you. You glitter through the holes left by something from another life. You shine. The others... have stopped. They notice you- are different. You are changed. What was stale and dark now fresh and white. The air is cold and fast. And comforting. And it feels feels like... Love.
Continue reading...
29
What is God? Can i see Him? Do i feel Him? Is that His smell? That sweet taste, is that Him too? Does He speak to me- Is that Him i hear? Do I swim through his running waters or fly in his ever expansive skies? Is God one? or two? many or few? Is God Day... ...Is God Night? can He be both darkness and light? is He a She? is HE, ME?
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
the God all around
a worn brush pulls down shadow like a shade to night creating form from light. a worn expression of rough tone and of a cool blue a face appears in hugh. in time forever captured eyes of yellow brown and lips curled together, in frown.
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC
immortal
In the air laulling calling tender laugh foot prints in the grass a steady stream lumbering tumble bubble bath In between buzzing fuzzy feel heart and eye heal a steady stream a steady stream
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
Untitled