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rjc
rjc
There is no black and white. There is only grey. There are no good and bad people, only grey. There is outstanding and extraordinary, and they are grey too. There is her and there is him. Nobody, no bodies. Bodies grooved, bodies removed. Nobody but you, and you. And us and them. And me and him. Everyone else is mute. Everyone else is grey. The rest of the world is grey. The corridors of your mind are mottled with beauty and truth, and distance and death. But in the end, there is only grey.
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Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
There is only grey.
Where from here? All chaos and silence Training new souls for Laughter and violence. Keeping us young, Telling us we're old Where did the time go? Not a place or date An unturned space, A forgotten pocket Tucked away In a lost suitcase. Nowhere that we know.
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Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
Where
The only ones who know what we did, are us. We were teenagers again. Living life through an optimistic lens. An unbearable thrill. Hiding behind the rhyme and words that had more than meaning. Taking our time but running into the sea, slow but quickly, the foam thrown onto our bare legs, the water soaking our clothes. No one knows, they didn't see us in the sea. Drowning but free.
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Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
Drowning but Free.
The anticipation of being wanted Waiting for nutrients of the mind And soul and savour our saved time We build our lives on sandstone not granite Not a meteor that hit but a shift of the tectonic plates Slow but strong Ever present but doubtful of their force Easily denied but powerfully felt The language of us The one you met Different to the one you found, Stumbled into a parched Waterfall.
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Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 7:11 PM UTC
The words that change us.
If you want to feel alive Again, or check you exist Then lay in the bath With your ears underwater Not silent, but still. Hear your own heartbeat, Listen. Absorbed and soak; A lifeform floating. Like when you were Consumed in the womb And others thought about Your heartbeat. But not you, you were Too busy trying to live. Now you are trying to Survive, but also thrive And running water, like Your veins, now afloat Amongst the disorder.
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Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
Floating.
Skin And stones, Allow me to Illustrate your bones With ink leftover from Clean cut days, sketched With a frosty daze. Staccato memories we Captured on thought reels Our daring minds, tested As the sun-shadows climb, Over exposed, but real. Sleeve stroked, shoulder Glance. Craft the excuses Savour the fresh flavour And take a chance. Place The spheres to my ears, Melody to my being. Taste the tickled autumn Crinkled by jeopardy, Trace a moonlit sternum Wilted and wanted. A Bitten lip, suggesting An ungrazed hip. An ache a day, keeps The dreaming awry with Flustered breath, blustery And wet. Awake but not Alive, can it survive? Keep your flame kindled In my hot chocolate cup Douse it with whiskey, Pray it doesn’t erupt. We’re getting older But no wiser, Surprise Her.
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Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
Illustration.
The doves are flying now, they make their winds In every direction: hover and sail to their foreign flock. Forget me not, plucked up the courtesy to show You round these new haunts. Plain as a daffodil, As probable as daylight. But the mist is lifted - Stay with me now. Don’t let me go, but don’t Hang around. Too soon but forgotten not. Forget The others, they sailed the sea but found the sand. It grazed my skin and opened my eyes. Nothing Is clear now. Waxen wings do set their form like Feathered tales. Forget me not for I am here; Always will have been. Should be? Be not afraid Of distance, for some have it grown upon them. Sewn inside like seeds, the day they sprout will be Goodbyes, for now. We hope, but forgotten not.
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
Gone.
River floods make planted buds Unclean, sweating blood for the seeds Hidden in unfound prophets. The pollen prophecies hinder The far lost lovers, star-crossed With their eyes to the skies and Hands reaching deep in the seas above. We wait, silent, and wonder. Swamping Our stomata vision with couplets Formed from stigmas of all the years. Rhyming, but avoiding the answers We crave. From cradle to grave is not Enough. Searching signs and science Beyond our learning, lessons hard learnt From love itself compromise the beauty And mistakes found on the surface of An eclipse – blinding men and hanging Martyrs from the stark tip of a half moon. Sharp, revealed, they sacrifice what the church Could not. Would not. Poison or paradise? We will never be sure but it still fuels The passion and bakes the bread we need To eat and live. The sour lips of life tasted Sweet before, but the flowers have died Now and left their ****** marks on The garden path. When we were young The stigmata did not stain so much. Clandestine and concealed to the world, Invisible - striving for the word to be known, But strife was not The Way. Doth with their Own death they curse those who engendered Them, like Faustus, who flew but twas All in feign, for he fell in vain - and did not live To taste the wine. Yet fallen are we all For the sake of those two lovers – Biting deep into the rigid skin of solid Poison. The sickly sweet juice running Down the side of her cursed lip As the serpent swept their souls away. A sharp tongue will keep the commands At bay like spears in the sides Of the stammered. The swollen dagger Hearts were bitten by a Cancer Of the stars, spreading like luminaries Devouring ***** by ***** Only Your hands are free to tell the story now To bathe in the rich fountains of new-born Life, flowing from river to river carrying Moses baskets and delivering us to Our stolen caskets.
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 7:36 PM UTC
Stigmata.
River floods make planted buds Unclean, sweating blood for the seeds Hidden in unfound prophets. The pollen prophecies hinder The far lost lovers, star-crossed With their eyes to the skies and Hands reaching deep in the seas above. We wait, silent, and wonder. Swamping Our stomata vision with couplets Formed from stigmas of all the years. Rhyming, but avoiding the answers We crave. From cradle to grave is not Enough. Searching signs and science Beyond our learning, lessons hard learnt From love itself compromise the beauty And mistakes found on the surface of An eclipse – blinding men and hanging Martyrs from the stark tip of a half moon. Sharp, revealed, they sacrifice what the church Could not. Would not. Poison or paradise? We will never be sure but it still fuels The passion and bakes the bread we need To eat and live. The sour lips of life tasted Sweet before, but the flowers have died Now and left their ****** marks on The garden path. When we were young The stigmata did not stain so much. Clandestine and concealed to the world, Invisible - striving for the word to be known, But strife was not The Way. Doth with their Own death they curse those who engendered Them, like Faustus, who flew but twas All in feign, for he fell in vain - and did not live To taste the wine. Yet fallen are we all For the sake of those two lovers – Biting deep into the rigid skin of solid Poison. The sickly sweet juice running Down the side of her cursed lip As the serpent swept their souls away. A sharp tongue will keep the commands At bay like spears in the sides Of the stammered. The swollen dagger Hearts were bitten by a Cancer Of the stars, spreading like luminaries Devouring ***** by ***** Only Your hands are free to tell the story now To bathe in the rich fountains of new-born Life, flowing from river to river carrying Moses baskets and delivering us to Our stolen caskets.
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The ivy gave us burgundy Reflections, a journal in return Clasping your nostalgic dreams; Postcards from former selves Asking how have you been? Grey between the lines of lives You lingered and loved Coloured ink spills tainted The unwritten pages of Our favourite names of ages, Soaking the past with A future mask. They asked, Was it all you had hoped? Sit back and relax, watch Wait, only you can see, Your eyes build those towers While fingertips crumble them Like rocky waves, on a Sandy stage. Breadcrumbs of Your soul, scented by sunlight. How did she change you? Ride the cracks, paper over The tortured, unbeaten tracks With words of others. Their Bodies, ripened, stifled For starters, let us begin on Paths that lead somewhere In between, this life and yours Let me explore you Deeper. Undress your mind Swallow your limits and Leave them dusted, behind. Will the currents carry me? Drown the taut thoughts, the Drifting taunts. Enough now Roped into settling down; A murky sunset or a foamy Mountain, painted between Frothed skies, and your eyelids. Dive into this moment, tempted Gasping for salty air, was It the sea that saved you? Choked as you realise you Can’t breathe and dream At the same time. Another Day, another lifetime, Rehearsed. Wish I were there, See you next year. How Can I know your universe?
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
Exploration.