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kenny-h
American I currently attend Rutgers University in the New Brunswick campus. I live in Oradell, NJ. I am an amateur writer interested in poetry and screenwriting and I hope to share my works with others to see what they think.
I have a desire to unleash My imagination unto the world, I wish to give birth to many worlds To terraform colorful plains Of unbelievable skies and creatures. One is of a cat, a dangerous cat Who stands on his hind legs And cups his top hat with his right paw, And bows his orange coat, Careful not to wrinkle his fine suit. He is dangerous because he is a gentleman, And in this era Gentlemen are scarce and unheard of. So unheard of that Gentleman Cat Is always given conservative, cautious, and quizzical looks Looks that try to read Gentleman Cat Of any deceit, dishonor, and destruction That drip from his light whiskers. Another is of an industrial wasteland Where all its people reek of bewilderment Taken aback by this strange place. It is full of leaking deformities And sopping wet clothes And screeching radiators. It is a sad mad realm, But the coal still burns As freaks walk in the rain Under the hypnosis of poisonous air. Another is a place I haven't fully developed yet, But it includes a bust, a butcher, and a ***** Another follows a bright young princess Who chooses to walk barefoot, Much like her people. However, she cuts her foot on a rusty nail And dies because modern healthcare Is an illusion. Another is a card player named Luke Who sees debt as a challenge, More so than a problem. His ****** ignorance leads him To a troubling situation Where he has nothing to pay After losing a game of chance, Except for his fleshed jewels Passed down since the dawn of man. Another is one that I just thought of this instant. It is of a psychotic policeman Who shoots himself In order to increase his **** count From 27 to 28. Finally, one more story. In this story a woman has two dreams, In the first she is chased by A thunder cloud through a corn maze. She is panting and flailing her lungs Trying to grasp for air, And the dream ends. The second is she is on a conveyer belt Sitting at a wooden school desk Receiving lessons from a hooded figure With a gavel Hammering ideals and priorities Of the old world. The figure is crying And drawing infinite circles on the blackboard With a new piece of chalk. Eventually the both of them Arrive at the end of the line, And fall into a cavern of outer space Where a butterfly appears from the hooded figure's hood And crumbles and shrivels right before the girl's eyes. And then she wakes up.
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Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
Imagination Incarnate
I have a desire to unleash My imagination unto the world, I wish to give birth to many worlds To terraform colorful plains Of unbelievable skies and creatures. One is of a cat, a dangerous cat Who stands on his hind legs And cups his top hat with his right paw, And bows his orange coat, Careful not to wrinkle his fine suit. He is dangerous because he is a gentleman, And in this era Gentlemen are scarce and unheard of. So unheard of that Gentleman Cat Is always given conservative, cautious, and quizzical looks Looks that try to read Gentleman Cat Of any deceit, dishonor, and destruction That drip from his light whiskers. Another is of an industrial wasteland Where all its people reek of bewilderment Taken aback by this strange place. It is full of leaking deformities And sopping wet clothes And screeching radiators. It is a sad mad realm, But the coal still burns As freaks walk in the rain Under the hypnosis of poisonous air. Another is a place I haven't fully developed yet, But it includes a bust, a butcher, and a ***** Another follows a bright young princess Who chooses to walk barefoot, Much like her people. However, she cuts her foot on a rusty nail And dies because modern healthcare Is an illusion. Another is a card player named Luke Who sees debt as a challenge, More so than a problem. His ****** ignorance leads him To a troubling situation Where he has nothing to pay After losing a game of chance, Except for his fleshed jewels Passed down since the dawn of man. Another is one that I just thought of this instant. It is of a psychotic policeman Who shoots himself In order to increase his **** count From 27 to 28. Finally, one more story. In this story a woman has two dreams, In the first she is chased by A thunder cloud through a corn maze. She is panting and flailing her lungs Trying to grasp for air, And the dream ends. The second is she is on a conveyer belt Sitting at a wooden school desk Receiving lessons from a hooded figure With a gavel Hammering ideals and priorities Of the old world. The figure is crying And drawing infinite circles on the blackboard With a new piece of chalk. Eventually the both of them Arrive at the end of the line, And fall into a cavern of outer space Where a butterfly appears from the hooded figure's hood And crumbles and shrivels right before the girl's eyes. And then she wakes up.
Continue reading...
72
The sun is beating down my neck Yeah I've been free, I've been so free here Letting the heat press against my face, I tell my boys to keep the beat up With the heat up And they keep jammin' and flowin', As I keep my head up they keep their head down To the beat, and I'll watch for them The energy of the crowd reaching my voice And towards my boys, and back at the crowd Like a ricochet. And what more can I say About the life we stray Because we're here to stay, Me and my boys with music to play.
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Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
Thinkin' About Taking You to a Place
Fire away, fire away At my soul fire away, It's up for grabs, fire away And let sun drip from my eyes. I'm not bulletproof, no titanium Can't block this soul, fire away, My guards are down, my hands are up Fire away, fire away. Be gentle please, I must insist Don't make haste, but fire away, Oh my soul it does erupt Fire away, fire away. Just take your time, I'll soon relax, Fire away, fire away.
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Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 10:56 PM UTC
Fire Away
She swirls a small package Of white and pink candies, Gripped by her thumb and index With long tipped pearl finger tips. Oh my she is quite pretty indeed With her auburn brown hair Tied up in a short ponytail. And yet she isn't clothed in Typical "womenly" garments, No she wears a navy blue sweatshirt, Jean shorts with a Crochet pattern on the bottom, And beige loafers. And yet she is beautiful. She is quite beautiful indeed.
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Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
Young Lady
Do you fear God? My brother said I shouldn't fear Something that doesn't exist, And yet I see him pray from time to time For good health, for good wealth, For the girl sitting next to him in English To notice him. I don't understand why he could be so bitter He is alive, he lives a good life With me, my mother, my father, and dog. Why should you pray for a good life, When the way to have a good life Is just to live? To answer my own question Yes I do fear God Or whomever has power over my fate. He could shove down a path Full of darkness and leave me To breathe heavily Crawling a midst the depths of the hole He and I created. And I know my brother fears Him, or Her, or It. Because he wouldn't being praying for a good life If he didn't want his to slip away.
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Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
Fire Broke Out and Burned My World
In the atmosphere, the smoke will stick onto my eyes, In the air sometimes, we'll fly away and not look back, Along the shoreline, buried in sand and struck with fear, We're stuck down here, but the air will be our true escape.
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Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 10:58 AM UTC
Empire of the Sun
My daughter walked down a path And came to a fork. There an old man stood Next to a dead tree and he said, "If you go left you will be born into this world, It will be difficult, you were not planned And I myself will have to support you. However, if you go right You will surely not live, And it would be easier for us, But we would cry for you dearly And mourn for your spirit." There the old man stood silent Waiting for my daughter's response. "I wish to live" she said. The old man looked at her With compassion and despair. "My dear, I'm afraid you don't have a choice."
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC
My Daughter
We in the attic blanketed with dust Waiting stiffly until The Beaumont's leave, Us portraits and mannequins stuck like rust Wearing fluffy clothes the butler would weave. They leave, we awaken and run downstairs To see the table full of wine and mess We gather around, the gramophone blares The butler screams, that old Anderson Wes He looked as though he never saw a feast Ran stupidly shaking like a drunk man 'Til the portrait of Paul said to the beast, "You're waking the neighbors, here have some flan!" Eyes bulging, eyes fuming old Wes breaks down His allergy got the very best of him Rolling on the floor covered in a frown We watched and listened his life on a limb. "He ruined the party!" cried Ms. LeBoot, We were in uproar, covered in white noise But then stood Mr. Crowser in his suit Headless, but strong with a booming tight voice. He said, "We shall not let his death be vain, As butler Wes would see this to the end Now let us dine and let us feast through pain And unveil this dust, with drink it will mend!"
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
Evening Party by Victor Vilner
My son walked up to me one day He said, "Hey dad?" I look up from my book And there he was with that quizzical look again. "Yeah son?" I ask gently. "Dad, why do foxes run away from people?" I looked at him patiently I had not a single clue why on earth A fox runs from a boy. "Have you seen a fox?" "Yeah" my son said, "He was orange and scared." "Well they have every right to be afraid son." My son, my dear son, turned his head And calm brown eyes. "What are they afraid of?" "Well humans, for quite some time, Have hunted foxes. We took their bright orange fur and the meat on their bones And we swallowed them whole. We also took their homes And made them our own. We didn't thank them And I think that's what hurt them the most." My son turned his head again with that quizzical look And he looked outside the windowsill. "I'll be right back" he eagerly said, And he jumped out the door into the backyard. I got up from my chair and look outside To see the strangest thing to date. My son walked up to our brushes And out popped a fox. I opened the window to shout to my son, But first I heard something sweet. "I'm sorry fox" said my sincere son. And wouldn't you believe it, That foxed bowed down And disappeared in the brushes.
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC
Nature of the Fox
What the ghost wanted most (Not to brag and not to boast), To be a true and brilliant host At his post by the coast. People would come and even more some Summoned by drum and enchanted by *** Not open to **** (for this was no slum) The elite would hum and eat every crumb The ghost would make a sublime cake (But first strip steak before this break), Angel food cake that would make mortals shake Holy fire would bake this witch at the stake. The ghost did crave during ascent Into a cave where lost souls spent, He did rave about his planned event But he slept in his grave where his wife lament.
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
The Ghost Not Give Up