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moonwalker
let the moon light my path as i stumble through darkness.
'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy: train tracks always meet, not here, but only in the impossible mind's eye; horizons beat a retreat as we embark on sophist seas to overtake that mark where wave pretends to drench real sky.' 'Well then, if we agree, it is not odd that one man's devil is another's god or that the solar spectrum is a multitude of shaded grays; suspense on the quicksands of ambivalence is our life's whole nemesis. So we could rave on, darling, you and I, until the stars tick out a lullaby about each cosmic pro and con; nothing changes, for all the blazing of our drastic jargon, but clock hands that move implacably from twelve to one. We raise our arguments like sitting ducks to knock them down with logic or with luck and contradict ourselves for fun; the waitress holds our coats and we put on the raw wind like a scarf; love is a faun who insists his playmates run. Now you, my intellectual leprechaun, would have me swallow the entire sun like an enormous oyster, down the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark of comet hara-kiri through the dark should inflame the sleeping town. So kiss: the drunks upon the curb and dames in dubious doorways forget their monday names, caper with candles in their heads; the leaves applaud, and santa claus flies in scattering candy from a zeppelin, playing his prodigal charades. The moon leans down to took; the tilting fish in the rare river wink and laugh; we lavish blessings right and left and cry hello, and then hello again in deaf churchyard ears until the starlit stiff graves all carol in reply. Now kiss again: till our strict father leans to call for curtain on our thousand scenes; brazen actors mock at him, multiply pink harlequins and sing in gay ventriloquy from wing to wing while footlights flare and houselights dim. Tell now, we taunq where black or white begins and separate the flutes from violins: the algebra of absolutes explodes in a kaleidoscope of shapes that jar, while each polemic jackanapes joins his enemies' recruits. The paradox is that 'the play's the thing': though prima donna pouts and critic stings, there burns throughout the line of words, the cultivated act, a fierce brief fusion which dreamers call real, and realists, illusion: an insight like the flight of birds: Arrows that lacerate the sky, while knowing the secret of their ecstasy's in going; some day, moving, one will drop, and, dropping, die, to trace a wound that heals only to reopen as flesh congeals: cycling phoenix never stops. So we shall walk barefoot on walnut shells of withered worlds, and stamp out puny hells and heavens till the spirits squeak surrender: to build our bed as high as jack's bold beanstalk; lie and love till sharp scythe hacks away our rationed days and weeks. Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down, and god or void appall us till we drown in our own tears: today we start to pay the piper with each breath, yet love knows not of death nor calculus above the simple sum of heart plus heart.
0
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 1:53 PM UTC
Love Is A Parallax
'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy: train tracks always meet, not here, but only in the impossible mind's eye; horizons beat a retreat as we embark on sophist seas to overtake that mark where wave pretends to drench real sky.' 'Well then, if we agree, it is not odd that one man's devil is another's god or that the solar spectrum is a multitude of shaded grays; suspense on the quicksands of ambivalence is our life's whole nemesis. So we could rave on, darling, you and I, until the stars tick out a lullaby about each cosmic pro and con; nothing changes, for all the blazing of our drastic jargon, but clock hands that move implacably from twelve to one. We raise our arguments like sitting ducks to knock them down with logic or with luck and contradict ourselves for fun; the waitress holds our coats and we put on the raw wind like a scarf; love is a faun who insists his playmates run. Now you, my intellectual leprechaun, would have me swallow the entire sun like an enormous oyster, down the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark of comet hara-kiri through the dark should inflame the sleeping town. So kiss: the drunks upon the curb and dames in dubious doorways forget their monday names, caper with candles in their heads; the leaves applaud, and santa claus flies in scattering candy from a zeppelin, playing his prodigal charades. The moon leans down to took; the tilting fish in the rare river wink and laugh; we lavish blessings right and left and cry hello, and then hello again in deaf churchyard ears until the starlit stiff graves all carol in reply. Now kiss again: till our strict father leans to call for curtain on our thousand scenes; brazen actors mock at him, multiply pink harlequins and sing in gay ventriloquy from wing to wing while footlights flare and houselights dim. Tell now, we taunq where black or white begins and separate the flutes from violins: the algebra of absolutes explodes in a kaleidoscope of shapes that jar, while each polemic jackanapes joins his enemies' recruits. The paradox is that 'the play's the thing': though prima donna pouts and critic stings, there burns throughout the line of words, the cultivated act, a fierce brief fusion which dreamers call real, and realists, illusion: an insight like the flight of birds: Arrows that lacerate the sky, while knowing the secret of their ecstasy's in going; some day, moving, one will drop, and, dropping, die, to trace a wound that heals only to reopen as flesh congeals: cycling phoenix never stops. So we shall walk barefoot on walnut shells of withered worlds, and stamp out puny hells and heavens till the spirits squeak surrender: to build our bed as high as jack's bold beanstalk; lie and love till sharp scythe hacks away our rationed days and weeks. Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down, and god or void appall us till we drown in our own tears: today we start to pay the piper with each breath, yet love knows not of death nor calculus above the simple sum of heart plus heart.
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78
if i remember correctly, you wrote a manual on how to swim in this sea of disappointments wading my way on above-me water ***** the energy, the life, the sureness out of me **** this pressure everyone puts around me i am naked under currents; don't peak the water had been dyed pitch black now the color of doubts in their eyes they stitch words on my skin capital letters p, e, r, f, e, c, and t they decorate me like a diy existence if i remember correctly, you wrote a manual on how to drown suffocating-deep into one's sweetest dream give it to me now
0
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 2:07 AM UTC
to swim and drown at the same time
there was bravery in her song and invisible beats were composed of tugging heartstrings and hopeful rests blending well at that octave, note after note. there was magic when the writer got lost in his own story navigating there, making mistakes, being more human than god in contrast to others who had journals of do's and don'ts. there was something positive whenever i wake up each day and face the battle of standing up, being alive and practically living life positive whenever i say no to backing down and giving up in her song in his words and in my every waking moment there's life and humanity and mistakes and it's all right
0
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 2:07 AM UTC
nice to be alive
no one taught me how to love without the mandatory 'i love you's, without fabricated appreciation just because everyone else was doing it, no one taught me the rawness of it all how the feeling consumes you like fire and makes you speak in a language you never knew you could speak no one taught me how to express myself in ways that don't slip between people's fingers like water, with palms up heart cut out and bleeding every pad and print facing the earth each vulnerability visible from the stars no one taught me how to keep my emotions running like a broken tap because for years i'd switch it off once i thought i was done dealing with them and afterwards i'd never want to run my hands through the water ever again because i was scared to feel no one taught me how to love how to express myself how to feel that once i loved i burned like rome i loved people more than they would ever love me, i'd always love them too much and once i learned how to be vulnerable i ended up tearing my heart out and giving it to the first person that would listen once i learned how to feel i felt too much to the point of drowning my hands rubbed raw from running through the water one too many times no one taught me how to live in greys so i live in blacks and whites all or nothing too much or too little a constant push and pull - i just want to be whole. i just want to be whole.
0
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 4:08 PM UTC
life lessons
the bible says faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. how strange and yet magical it is for us to believe and remember in things we do not know the way the three kings believed the star would bring them to the child Jesus the way people used to believe that the phases of the moon meant life, death, and rebirth symbolizing the way a woman's womb would swell once they bear a child the way we hold onto history as if we are witnesses of every horror and heartbreak remembering the lost souls using what we had to find out what we will have faith is total trust and surrender knowing that the world began with adam and eve but not knowing how it will end for the moon the stars our history can only tell us so much and our faith is the honey found in heaven the conviction that someday it will be all we taste i believe i believe i believe
0
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
prompt: moon, sweet
I don't believe in anyone, so I say, yet here I am being consumed, just another prey.
0
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
Untitled
the asphalt was unlevel, the steps in my path divided, my own two feet played against one another. the grass is greener on the left. the grass is gone on the right. cars continued on, the inconsistent studders in my step scaring them to the other lanes; the inane ability to see life lose its value formed, the heart in totality from all hearts, to have darkness in day... the grass was greener on the left.
0
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 11:59 AM UTC
people and walking
46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose. I plight again, By every sainted Bee— By Daisy called from hillside— by Bobolink from lane. Blossom and I— Her oath, and mine— Will surely come again.
0
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 2:29 AM UTC
I keep my pledge
I wandered blackout drunk lost trading cigarettes for directions from crustpunks who took swigs from bottles of cheap plasticsugar alcohol Muttering to myself in selfdefense sublimating the toxic fire in my eyes into soundwave echoes bouncing off of plywood windows and abandoned stolen cars Angry limping at breakleg pace down the heroinblessed streets of yet another vibrant American slum.
0
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 5:53 PM UTC
Spokane, Washington
scales and strings, silly sounding wooden things, where words don't have weight, shadows and secrets scurry off the stage; plucked to the rhythm of the soul, a story that words had never told.
0
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC
strings, among other silly things