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 Sep 2015 Ntsika H
Brian T Baker
Made my morning
much much easier

Doing everything that
I was told to never do.

Wake up with wine
A glass at a time
And at least three
Puffs of Cuckoo Chi.

Before that I **** myself.
Or, with luck, a PYT,
Who promises me
She’s on the pill.  

And if not, Oh
Well, I’m sure “Zanir”
wasn’t her government name.


It took close to twenty-three years
To shake off the agony of daytime.
There was no place for me in the
Systematic sunlight. Or, at least,
Not one that I could see.  But now

I’ve got a bottle, ½ full of optimistic
Alcoholism. I manage the condition
With a bit of cinnamon, spiced into
Steel cut oats and W.A. Elderberries.


Admitting what you don’t understand
While trusting that you know yourself
Is the last, if not only, human freedom.

Social expectation &
Psychic ambiguation.

Don’t take refuge in the familiar
Without first hugging your weird.

Comfort traps aren’t new,
Just the latest edition in:
That’s How They Get You.
Seattle, WA.  Episode One in an ongoing series. Also, it's 'nice' to be a morning person.
Weeds grew between the cracks in my heart and the breaks in my bones but for some **** reason i decided the single dandelion that grew was the good in me and I call it Poetry...but sometimes, most times... all I call it is a lost cause and the grim reminder of the person I never became... I'm a writer...a performer, and I thrive for hearts and souls & Ink and Pens.
My confusion sinks deep,
every second i find myself roaming in thought,
what best can i describe it,
i do not know, but i know,
my mind says another story,
while the people say another,
and there you are having yours way so different.

Whisper into my ear,
something so straight and meaningful,
something i will love and cherish,
whisper into my ear,
a song that will keep me dancing forever.

I am confused,
i dont know what to think,
they have posioned my mind,
i might be getting the whole story wrong,
please tell me that i am right and they are wrong.

You would rather not say,
for my thoughts are caught in between,
should i love?
must i love you?
do i love you?
will i love you?
Am i in love with you,
please ohh! gracious sir
let me know if you love me.
 Sep 2015 Ntsika H
cartel
Untitled
 Sep 2015 Ntsika H
cartel
Let's go sit on the hillside
Away from the world

If the rain starts spilling in, we will built a roof
If our stomachs start to grumble, we will pick some fruit
If we hear the sounds of people, I will look at you

And we will sit on a further hillside
Away from all the world

even if they do come find us, we will never leave
With the wind in our hair and the soil in our nails, this is all we need

After all they can't communise the mountains
They can't commercialise the wind
the future here isn't bleak because
*Nature isn't weak
They are merely figments of my imagination, and yet, they are my greatest fears; the threats, the ultimatums, my dependencies, and potentially finding someone who can steal my heart just as easily as they can abandon me.
I don’t have dreams, I have nightmares.
Perhaps, my mind knows better than to allow me to think about life in an optimistic way.
I suspect being afraid of reality is what saves me every day from killing myself, ironically enough.
I wondered how it is I abstain from acting out all my impulses.
Today, I’m well aware of the underlying reason as to why this is.
I’ve seen the possible outcomes of every one of my beloved fantasies I wish to fulfill; I’m not amused.
I’ve lost everything in my revelations, from my pride to the roof over my head.
Never will I forget the feeling of isolation.
Nor shall I forget how degrading it felt to be naked in front of people I’d rather **** than take abuse from.
Being vulnerable made me feel absolutely pathetic.
I was defeated.
With that said, I won’t allow anyone inside my comfort zone, not after the experiences my imagination forced upon me.
I was shown what I will wither away into if I don’t stand up for myself, and in this society.
I’ll be trampled if I stop moving.
Independence is the key to success and freedom.
Without the two, everything I’ve ever known will perish before my broken eyes regardless of the path I choose to walk.
People can only endure so much and eventually, they have to leave.
I understand these chances are my last.
In addition to being left behind, the ones I lean on hand me more responsibilities that I must learn to manage myself, though the opportunity to master each difficulty was presented a while back.
I was just too arrogant to recognize help was being offered. In this process, deadlines become imminent.
Finally, the excruciating pain I experienced watching someone I perceived as my foundation, my future, everything admirable I lack, turn their back and walk away from me for the very last time was too much to cope with.
It was worse than consuming poison and simultaneously being drowned to death.
There was no opposition coming out of my mouth because dreams nor nightmares fail to allow anything to happen in your favor.  
I wouldn’t wish for any enemy of mine to lose the love of their life. It is awful and honestly, they’d be better off dead.
These nightmares inflict both terror and insight in me.
A combination such as this can only do you good.
A healthy, inner restriction and a release when appropriate can take you further than expected.
My dreams are nightmares for a wise reason.
They instill my judgments, shaping my future and preventing me from ruining everything by digging out my curiosity in dangerous actions. Nightmares make true life adorable in comparison to a racing thought formed in a deep slumber.
 Sep 2015 Ntsika H
Michelle
Summer
 Sep 2015 Ntsika H
Michelle
Summer tries to kiss me goodbye--
Handing me "bring a sweater; just in case" cold weather
Summer tries to leave me without actually saying farewell
The trees have yet to strip of their green, fluttering foliage
Summer doesn't promise to come back anytime soon
Stagnant, hazy heat becomes a long lost memory
Summer has disappeared for a day, leaving no trace
Autumn has lost its appeal without you here
8/23/2015
 Sep 2015 Ntsika H
Eugene
Single
 Sep 2015 Ntsika H
Eugene
She's a woman I adore.
She's lovely as a beautiful orchid flower.
She's a lady I wanted to dance forever.
She's the one I love, it's now or never.

She's...
She's...
She's..
My one and only Single...
I burn my city away on cheap nights,
eight glasses wasted on a dry throat.

The sound of boots squishing raw soil
set a course of sirens through my rotting
ears, jerking my dilated pupils
into the boiling sun, crying in the
presence of my son,

yet there I am,
seated among thinly threaded confessions,
surrounded by faces reminding me of headaches
on Monday mornings.

I can smell their toasted hair under my gaze,
when they say, "quitting is taking back your life,"
yet I could pay for a Friday bar
night with a bald boy,
suffocating under the weight
of a cold rib-cage,
until I screamed at them to pull the plug.
Sort of a fictional story in poetic form about alcoholism and other things.
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