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AJ Jan 2016
Dance is the destiny
of the planet Clemencia;
she is eternity descending
from the throne of god.

Her body in brilliant
pools of color
encircling her globe.
She becomes the cosmos,
the soul's black cathedral
like a mirror, her face
reflecting back at you.

Clemencia, daughter of heaven,
dance for us!
for we are a weary people.

They arrive and her heart
yields abundantly
from the ground.
My body is a kingdom of voices...
AJ Dec 2015
I feel like
I'm apart of a family
at the psych ward.
All my brothers and sisters
are spiritual freak shows.
Am I the shiniest one?

**** ****, I love you,
forever in a day, I want
to pray my head away.
What's left is too depressing
to sort out in the current
situation I happen to be
situated in, baby.
we glow like aliens
in the moon's naked eye,
white blossoms, haha...
AJ Dec 2015
Time may stop,
but not our laughter;
the earth must be
in love or something.
I feel like a child
who's job it is
to do nothing...
AJ Dec 2015
8PM... come to me again...
long night, day has died...

You and I, we're so good tonight,
I feel like we're out of town
and we're at a rest stop.
We're so well off.
AJ Dec 2015
Rest
sleep well
say your prayers
respect the universe and its happenings
be happy

Take in small portions
life and its romance

You are
already perfect
Just a perfect day... drink Sangria in the park, haha
AJ Dec 2015
(In the kitchen
after eating oatmeal,
I spot a pen...)

I like this pen
because it's purple.

This may not seem
like a big deal,
but I used to not like purple
because everyone else did.
  Dec 2015 AJ
Charles Bukowski
good weather
is like
good women-
it doesn't always happen
and when it does
it doesn't
always last.
man is
more stable:
if he's bad
there's more chance
he'll stay that way,
or if he's good
he might hang
on,
but a woman
is changed
by
children
age
diet
conversation
***
the moon
the absence or
presence of sun
or good times.
a woman must be nursed
into subsistence
by love
where a man can become
stronger
by being hated.
I am drinking tonight in Spangler's Bar
and I remember the cows
I once painted in Art class
and they looked good
they looked better than anything
in here. I am drinking in Spangler's Bar
wondering which to love and which
to hate, but the rules are gone:
I love and hate only
myself-
they stand outside me
like an orange dropped from the table
and rolling away; it's what I've got to
decide:
**** myself or
love myself?
which is the treason?
where's the information
coming from?
books...like broken glass:
I wouldn't wipe my *** with 'em
yet, it's getting
darker, see?
(we drink here and speak to
each other and
seem knowing.)
buy the cow with the biggest
****
buy the cow with the biggest
****.
present arms.
the bartender slides me a beer
it runs down the bar
like an Olympic sprinter
and the pair of pliers that is my hand
stops it, lifts it,
golden **** of dull temptation,
I drink and
stand there
the weather bad for cows
but my brush is ready
to stroke up
the green grass straw eye
sadness takes me all over
and I drink the beer straight down
order a shot
fast
to give me the guts and the love to
go
on.
from "poems written before jumping out of an 8 story window" - 1966
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