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 Jun 2018 K Bee
Bo Burnham
Sully
 Jun 2018 K Bee
Bo Burnham
Sully suffers from a stutter,
simple syllables will clutter,
stalling speeches up on beaches,
like a sunken sailboat rudder.

Sully strains to say his phrases,
sickened by the sounds he raises,
strings of thoughts come out in knots,
he solves his sentences like mazes.

At night, he writes his thoughts instead
and sighs as they steadily rush from his head.
 Jun 2018 K Bee
Bo Burnham
*****! *****! I **** *****!
***** get ****** when I **** *****!
No ifs, ands, and/or buts!
I **** *****! I **** *****!

Nice girls are nice, but no good for nut-*******.
They'll need a serene night to green-light a ****-*******,
but that'll be easy with ****** ol' ****-*******!
Boo to the nice girls! Praise be to ****-*******!

I have a list. A list? Yes, a list of all the ***** I've missed.
I've never ****** or ****** these ***** and thus my nuts are ******* ******.
So when I **** the lucky ****, my nut removes her from the list---
another dumb cumbucket struck from my nut-*******,
"**** it, ****!" ****-******* bucket list.

***** can be white, brown, pink, or almond.
They can be skinny with ******* or skinny with small ones.
***** can be perky, preppy, or posh,
with their brains and their clothes all shrunk from the wash.

But other ***** are pretty and funny and smart.
They can lift your thoughts from your **** to your heart.
They can talk about science, music, or art.
They can put you together or pull you apart.

But don't trust these *****! Don't! Don't you dare!
They'll force you to trust them and love them and care.
And then they'll be gone and then you'll be aware
of that hole in your heart that that dumb **** left there.
poem reading here--> www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGZ2VqcmZlI
 Jun 2018 K Bee
Bo Burnham
Beautiful
 Jun 2018 K Bee
Bo Burnham
You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.
And I know that.

But I can't rediscover it every ******* day.
I can't return to that epiphany
every time my alarm clock goes off.
It's unnatural.

But what I can do, and do quite naturally,
is become jaded and unimpressed by it.
I can see your beauty as normal,
as one of my life's many constants.

I can climb atop its shoulders and travel about,
rolling my eyes at sunsets and rainbows,
dismissing all the beauty of the world as
less than average.

And I complain to you about it.
And you can deduce your beauty from that.
 Feb 2018 K Bee
Mohammed Nusky
Hopes die when your trust overdoses, strange.
From the little things I saw came admiration,
Like hot lava it slowly but with quantity it filled.
And rapidly did it started turning into stone unaware.

Exchange of words would be great joy,
Only until her decision was to lose interest.
Little by little I saw it coming collapsing down,
Yet I denied judgements and chose patience.

Sometimes everything looked so easer,
I never knew how they change so fast.
Dying to reach a place in her heart, rejection
Just one word to vanquish all you're.

The so called fortress of hope shattered,
A barren wasteland is what's left of it.
Confusing to understand why all the time
Leaves you unanswered intuitions.

Constant and stable is an unpredictable paradox.
Forget all and go on or stay and wait,
Stumbling upon choices when thoughts invade your mind,
Always the unpleasant but still confounding,
Fight the painful war thence you may reign once, at least!
 Feb 2018 K Bee
WJ Thompson
I am wild, my akushla,
a solivigant.
But you are a cynefin.

Your kalon conceives resfeber in me.
Beasts rumble within like brontide,
they chant of redamancy, my trouvaille.

The dragoman drew me to you
Speaking of yugen
the susurruss mountains
they cured my atelphobia
Submontane caves
where our lights baltered among the selcouth crystals
Reminding me of basorexic spoondrift
breaking the moonglades you adore,
my fellow parallian.

Perhaps it was boyish werifesteria
or maybe I was selenotropic
to fall in love with a gentle boobook
ever so finifugal when we speak

But I feel filipendulous when abendrot bows for advesperacit

You sometimes consider it sphalolaliah,
my words, going ever on and on,
But I’ll learn your lagom, if you give me time
akushla-A transliteration of an Irish phrase that means “my pulse”, a term of endearment.
solivigant-wandering alone
cynefin-a Welsh word meaning a place you feel you ought to live, where nature feels welcoming.
kalon-inner and outer beauty.
resfeber-the nervous feeling before a journey; a mixture of anxiety and excitement before travel.
brontide-the low rumbling sound of distant thunder
redamancy-love fully returned; opposite of unrequited.
trouvaille-something pleasant you find by chance.
dragoman-translator and guide, usually in Turkish or Persian countries.
yugen-an awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep to be put into words.
susurrus-quiet whispering, or rustling.
atelphobia-the fear of not being good enough.
submontane-under or through mountains.
Balter-to dance recklessly; yet with enjoyment.
selcouth-unfamiliar, strange; yet marvelous
basorexia-the overwhelming urge to kiss
spoondrift-spray blown from waves during a gale at sea.
moonglades-the bright reflection of the moon’s light on water.
parallian-someone who lives by the ocean
werifesteria-to wander through the forest looking for mystery
selenotropism-growth in response to moonlight
boobook-a small, brown owl.
finifugal-someone who hates endings to stories, trips, or relationships.
filipendulous-hanging by a thread.
abendrot-the color of the sky when the sun is setting.
advesperacit-the approaching dark; the evening drawing near.
sphalolaliah-flirtatious talk that leads nowhere
lagom-just the right amount. Not too much; not to little.
You either make it happen
Or you chase a better opportunity
The one thing you do not want to do
Is drown in self-pity
Now is the time
To get it together
Make something of yourself
Get at it and do better
 Feb 2018 K Bee
K
Untitled
 Feb 2018 K Bee
K
I wasn't made like roses,
that you give every 14th of February,
and tucked in between pages of notebook,
leaving scent that stuck even if it dies.

I wasn't made like sunflowers,
hard to take care of
but is beautiful when it grows & glows,
a reason why it's named after sun.

I wasn't made like daisies,
or lilies or tulips,
or little colorful flowers you can think of
with fresh scents.

No, honey, I wasn't made like that,
because I'm the sun they need,
or the water they want from time to time.
I'm much more than that.
I'm the one that's keeping them alive.
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