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stuart-t-gardner
stuart-t-gardner
American
So the drunken fool stumbles about his responsibilities, sunbeams glowing from his eyes… no perfume strong enough to hide this stench of love. I give up. God, that rascal always has other plans for me
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
The fool
*I've struck a bargain with existence, I bring it flowers every morning*
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 8:08 PM UTC
Flowers
Seed my mantra with your stare Im stuck on the roof No God in sight and my neck hurts from staring at stars Awaiting a cool breeze to guide me home Still I keep that *** of gold in my mind’s eye The return to a long forgotten homeland Something to strike me like deja vu Awakening my eternal slumber A thousand whistling kettles So seed my laugh with your stare Im stuck on the roof No God in sight and my neck hurts from staring at you Awaiting a cool breeze to guide me home
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
Mantra
Some smokey memory hidden in a deep recess reminds me death is a friend I so crave that light I’ve known That night I pounded the floorboards curled my body around leg chairs clung to my mothers old womb crying to the moon shouting questions silently why… Why… WHY?! Sprouted from your womb, I wish to return growing from your consciousness I wish to dissolve I was a fire in the eye eyeless in its completeness vision in its blankess burn through me burn me whole
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC
Some smokey memory....
Champagne furnaces burn red, orange, then blue Like the way i wish to uncolor my perceptions for you
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Uncolor
Psychic fixes lay dormant on a floor mat huddle the young warm feelings under red scarves away from vapid decay turn feral, child in this warm space we’ve carved just for you
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Feral
When i started listening a sound i’d never heard drunken poets suddenly make sense
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:19 PM UTC
A sound I never heard
Soft cathedral daggers over a whisper of hot flesh you unfolded a chariot blossoming into moonshine echoing in eternity there is only this what more need we ask for but this
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:18 PM UTC
Soft Daggers
People see the world they want to see and nothing more their individual perceptions color endlessly But they never take the time to find out who is coloring they color unconsciously becoming a prisoner of their hallucinations
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
Fate
We speak a broken language we mirror we fall and forget and stumble into broken shards of the mirror that cut us and make us bleed the only way we can think to remember our nature….. were all masochists because were stumbling on purpose blood spilt on the other side of the world makes us all anemic
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
Spill