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rausmend
USA
Who cut the light behind this big dope’s eyes? All clumsy, stalling, acting funny, landed on the sticky side of grace unfazed by muchness, regal afterglow of lives well-lived (they sung him so), an easy time to toast the moon. I land amidst my own, the light of love, so soft and yellow, hie to say “I’ll stay right here” to neighbors, angel sisters, getting by. I reach a mass, the tributes being passed in plates & soft debates on what he said and who meant what, the grist for gossip’s mill. Enchanting still, the equal stage where all can stumble up, unmute, and play, and we support us, understand what’s wrong. We know what else is going on that keeps you unprepared and practice-shy, but try. And come to learn the magic strains that make belonging work. The herds that once were there, Alarm, Inadequacy, Fear, up-toast their cup of patience high and learn success is real - if only for a song, if only for a meal.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:36 PM UTC
Unimpressive Joys
Screamers of the soul flash you the last time you can go this hard, this fast, this fraught, this almost, tricksters tapping tickets to a one-way grave enslaved to pressing on, encased in never, courtesies we won’t get back. The patience they destroy sets fire to the wand’ring widow – screams that have to wake you up. They steal a frantic callback to some lasso-lover, ornery, stupid, gamboling up streets that shatter craven, crawl-back trust. Here because of half-shift workers (all but zombies) trusting that this pay will shine upon a son - as daughter clips the lawn, we’re granted odd hours off. Unruly matrix finds a way to live and re-address their outer billing trans our continental stress so lated, pictures of a match in prison: Puts Out v. I-Seen-You-Two, and one won’t deign to be so misconstrued. So night, she gaslights, spreading shock to beds. Tattoo upon your heads Things Not Like They Once Was; forgive us if we must fight back, the sleep the sinners lack reclaimed in staid unworthy buzz.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:34 PM UTC
Woken for Nothing
Wiry limits, līve on lines, decepit-iconned in talking points, a controversial coil of self that circle-heats the attitude within. Get shaken, heave and hop to, bowl about; it’s nothing we can’t roll without. So buckle up again and grace our confidence with tactile sport. A borderline detractor, never selling pitfalls short, fires up the case to cook your blessing from the sky. Die fast and ask us why our friends keep silent, knowing who we are and what vines take us for when planting suckers down on us for some ill-got relief, we breached! We must press onward, if not just as arrows to the mark of demons sending whispered omens to the dark.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:33 PM UTC
Hellbine
All malady malaise enshrines downstage – we set to rise or fall a ****** apart from clarity, false liberty, put on for all. Such dryness cracks our throat, devoid of verdance and the warming coat of piles of people – weary from the dance, they take their chances on the Interstate, arresting dawn with red-and-blue-make-white line fever. Be an eager steward of resource: get on their power-horse - inflict the distance on our hearts, the petals strewn apart, so lost without a core, and more, the chore of wilting in an unseen way upstaged by autumn leaves - deceives the quickness of the exit. Unsuggested dreams arise, waft in, disrupt the lover from his lies to reason, cheap endeavor mold’ring in the square. You’re there to show Afraid up, grace the curtains with a knowing bow below to one door down: disharmony beneath the stage, each quaver screaming to itself, “Get on my page.”
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:32 PM UTC
Indistanza
Not wrong. Let he who wants to shame a thing begone. Not awkward – comfortable. Not out to shame a brother’s passions nor the darkness of a son. He’s flown through much - and where he perches now embraces touch and afters many glows, observing all below, beneath, offsides – up comes another brimming up with pride, with courage and with honesty that shapes into a melody their demons’ rueful drone. I come to practice what he preaches: you’re enough, you’re all right, you deserve to love and be rejoiced as heartful bodies beat about, carouse for fleeting answers ‘midst our economic, existential doubt. A hand to hold, if big on tiny, ratchets up the links-made count by one, the only sign of hope under the sun. He’s cloudy, rainy-eyed, alive, aloof, and wise - knowing beauty’s many faces, shall not suffer a disguise. Voice that beckons new beginnings, how I hear! How I can’t wait to pour more honey in your ear.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:31 PM UTC
Huffy
We hear the marching step: the fear of falling deaf to screams that echo what’s been written on the walls, the halls of foreign fadings, legionnaires in limbo, marking time. We write a river’s worth o’ppeals to fight the footstrong feels but lust big shots we drain to calibrate our tanks to treason ‘gainst the logic of the vine. Seek light! Unfold, unwind! And now, just callow beggars swapping credits for a fix, chip reader bliss beeps “been approved” to addicts’ ears – sink lower, wipe away the tears; you’ll die before it’s sorted out - whether it is heights or falls we talk about. Just press a ladle to a swan, dip out a portion of his song to sample: fatal if you let it play, know when to hold and when to stay.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:30 PM UTC
The Spenders' March
Some grey hurdle in your empire- building poured an oaken drink and asked you what’s the endgame, peeking out to see rose death, spread shameless ‘midst the masses, boulder-swept, alive with anguish. Feel the days press on, your causes, cookie reasons, fill with fortunes folded by men no-percent alive. You dopes demand our castles, greasy chips smear eb’ny heads on which would rain your landing – Guess who’s strong. Guess who is tempered, battle-evened error modes of robed dictators, falsehood-seeking tenets of demise, long-startled, dancing over scrapped-together rinds of valor. Robed in beech dissent like quibbles: do we spill blood best from jugular or vena cava? Millions distant, dead. How do you like ‘em? Force inspires romance never shallow, hoisted up the pole. Fireworks like grape shells starring every goal: this cycle brought to you by bombs & stripes that started from discussions, oaken drinks in quiet chambers, warm and dry from toes to anguish on your aura, glory getting by.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:29 PM UTC
The War Room
My errant root strikes through the stagnant soils of lesser days, the soil compressing and eroding like the latest silly craze, still compounding – mirrors shining out kaleidoscopes of truth onto the chyrons under youth from which they read our misfit phrase. Oft-cheated, cut to bear rushed fruit out of the Mississippi self, waters roll in play, though none who near it ever boast its wealth, for brash encounters with the renegade on sacred runs to never; faces foaming up with weather, work the silt that they’ve been dealt. A never-stay-too-long “Don’t be a stranger” sing the strong as weakness flees to food, those chance encounters, croaking, rude, awaken crises on a ******* Never fault the crafty sacker for his blitz of attitude. Can’t shift him - what digs in will speak - like roots - alerting suits what realness tastes like in the hours they’re not a hole made through us so some sound might penetrate, attract, relate, and fire off into darkness like the rockets painted with our name. Your ground rules over game.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:28 PM UTC
Errant Root
Wireless zombie myth, milady. Argonne pages test wild orbits out, you shout, atoning frequencies to bourgeois prance. Details come driving in, a trance of force lit pageless under books that make it look like we were shaking - looking past, aghast, we loaf on starters’ blocks. The dull ascending shocks are treasonous, but float so softly in between commercials for some gleaming rolled relief. Unseat us - show some poison. Why make fear-all toys and cars and cancer from the river? step wild step to make us either grinding, coarse applause or winding widows at a loss for laws, our orphans on display, enjoying time delay for pay? You seek us, grooming ever-milder troops with pointed press releases: scoops of policy on market madness, argent damless in the lockest of lock-steps to gutter depths. A longing amplifies this Lent, extends the spring to Interstateful ether. Bead awake with sweat and send the doleful waters out to air. We never wanted to be everywhere.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:26 PM UTC
Millennials
Video production brands were fables I laid silver on - they shadow how we used to roll. We’d splice the prequel to descent, amazement under synths so grand - new shade from salty earth-fire days laid by our DiscTone bin. They rule the sages, airless, Prevue blocks that climb our screen as landscapes loom under green EVEs and stifle transit, training loose-wired rumbles weird - lift arcs below the Parkland Tier. Tail trenchant over Pace leapt to the hedge, fire patience over hedges, wresting deep-freed sorrow from the Cage Mount Times. - Crescent turbulence, a trick of carriage, sofas, cars wheel sharper, pages out for albums after looking days caught timeless turnaround.                Now fly, fresh zapper – steal pageless chatter chords & wily shuffles from your thriftless grin. More rattled up than Stage Street, harried after rises, wallows, deep-held seeds of Rose-born; Lift the beam and tractor eyes to where they’ve never been.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 4:25 PM UTC
Digital Youth Cult ‘94