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Akira Chinen Jul 2017
He flirted with death and she flirted with love and it seemed close enough to a disaster made in heaven with the promise of a blissfuly ironic hell so they kissed and undressed and explored bones under flesh and thoughts over addictions and beds made of poison and songs made out of needles and blood laced with the highs of getting low on everything that could be beautiful if it weren't for all the human misery getting in the way and they made love in a way of ******* all the pain out of the desperation to be anything that was anything but human and they became gods of infinite delusion and dopamine waves penetrating depths beyond the boundaries of shadow and light and body and soul and they crashed and tangled and mangled and drifted far far away from anything real and became the death and love they had been dreaming of before they had even been born
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
Death left his skull on my coffee table and it stares at me far too often and every now and then death turns himself into a herself and blows me a kiss and its a subtle difference but it's just enough to give me half a chubby but I'm reluctant to flirt back knowing herself might become himself at any minute and wouldn't that be an embarrassing way to die with your **** in a skull and half an ******* and trying to explain to the "moral" police but he was a her a minute before I died I swear...
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
Buzz cut
  Rope tie
BANG!BANG!
Someone's gotta die
Pray to cash
  Bleed for oil
It's the smell of death
  That the blind dogma
    Loves best
Grind the gears
  Toss your bones
Keep the Kings safely
  Up on their Thrones
**** **** ****
  To feed the HATE
We can't let the illusion
  And FEAR dissipate
BOMBS BULLETS bodies
  we need
MORE MORE MORE
WAR is Big
  BUSINESS for
All them political
   ******
BOMBS BULLETS bodies
  So easily replaced
Are all the things we waste
Buzz cut
  Rope tie
BANG! BANG!
  Only DEATH makes
     it OUT(T)A LI(V)E
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
Don't our children have better things to do than be nothing more than coins exchanging hands for the continued industrialization of profit from death
Are they not worth more than being living pawns on an out dated board of chest that becomes nothing more than another military grave
Are their bones only meant to end up crushed and broken within the jaws and teeth of the old blind dog of war
Are their dreams worth less than this old perpetuated hate and unnecessary fear
What will become of us if we continue to value a false idea of national pride over the lives of our children and their children and on and on
What will become of us when we betray the hearts we were meant to protect and the minds we were meant to teach
What will we become when we protect oil over blood
When we choose machine over flesh
When we can't see the only future we give them by repeating the same mistake time and time again is an early and unneeded death
What can become of us if we handle our children's lives so cruel
Is it not time to give them something better than the endless circle and cycle that has brought us nothing more than unending grief
Is it not time to give life and love back to those to who it should belong
Is it not time to trust our children with better things to do
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
She laid on top of him with their bare skin kissing
and whispered in his ear,
"poetry is not only made of words
and all poems are not written down
poetry lives in our hearts
and dances on our breaths
it is all of Kubla Khan in the moment
before and after a kiss
it is the marriage of Blake's Heaven and Hell
and all his rural pens and pipes and Songs of Innocence
in a brief glimpse of eternity as felt in a single sigh
as our lovers have left our rooms and our hearts
it is in every word of fear and trembling
of Kierkegaard in a sigh of joy and grief
as our lives close chapter after chapter
it is in the bloom and the root of every flower
of Baudelaires fevered mind
as we lay and move breathless
in the hours of sin and decadence
it is there hiding under the skin
and the stars and gardens of a skirt
with pleasures waiting to be explored
by eager fingertips
it is there in the flesh growing hard
beneath a loosened belt waiting to feel
the heat and twist of a wet tongue and moist mouth
it is all the loneliness of the broken typewriter
without a ribbon and missing the metal head of the "v"
and the hard strikes of a mind gone mad
with too much to say and no way to say it
it is in the blood and the ***** and the bird
and the song only Bukowski could understand
in the way he understood things
it is there in the sounds of lust grinding and pounding
and plowing and slithering and sliding
our bodies into and over and under
and behind and before and above and below each other
it is there in the silence of dreams
of light and truth when we become more than
flesh and pleasure and delight and joy
where our souls collide and become one
with the thread and fabric and vibration of love
it is in these moments without ink and paper
and pages and books and unrecorded bliss
that we become words of fire
and poetry that lives and dies on our every breath
as we say more than just I Love You
without writing or saying a thing"

and they kissed again and fell into dreams
and sleep and farther into love without saying
or thinking or needing another word
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
Come out to the woods and run and play and howl
Come out under the moon and stars and dreams
Come out to the place between forever and eternal sleep
And redefine the ways and rules of love with me
Come out and break the laws of gravity
Come out and grab the sun from the sky and let it sleep beneath the sea
Come out and swim in the current and undertow of the rivers of eternity
And repaint the heart of love with the colors of you and me
Come out to the place beyond the limits of the flesh
Come out to the space out of the reach of human misery
Come out of to mirror and reflection of everything we cannot see
And lay down and come with me to all the beauty that love can be
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
"a" is for love
"b" is for hate
"c" is for the illusion and deceit we believe
"d" is for who the innocent and children follow into graves
"e" is for the things we choose not to see
"f"  is for the things that we don't know or understand
"g" is for the faceless we give new names and old prayers
"h" is for the place that we tell bad little children they'll go
"i"  is for the blind leading the blind off the edge of the world
"j"  is for the humor we find in ****** and ****
"k" is for for the one eyed man wearing a crown
"l" is for what we believe in place of the truth
"m" is for what we justify in the name of country and god
"n" is for letting the hungry starve on the cold streets
"o" is for the thing we fear more than death
"p" is for those who turn cash into laws to protect rich criminals
"q" is for the lady dressed in jewels and dead hope
"r" is for what we have done with our dreams and our blood
"s" is for the last word we will say when we realize it's a little too late
"t" is for the boogeyman carrying our bullets and bombs
"u" is for what stares back from the mirror we pretend not to see
"v" is for the birds waiting to pick what little humanity still covers our bones
"w" is for the games of profit for death
"x" is a sign and a spot and a sign we ignore
"y" is for questions we better not ask
"z" is for all that is wasted in a life lived in a world
  that doesn't start and end with love
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