Punctuation.
has no place in a; poem

I. believe"
We should? write
and NOt' worry...
about,where (we put) these trivial markings/

Who) cares about the corrections' when its" really about the words!!!
why. cant. we. make. our. sentences.like.this.short.and.snappy.
or why cant we let them live and grow and take on a life of their own and live and spread and continue for hours and hours and send the world into haywire and chaos erupts everwhere and change topics and confuse people and boggle minds and* make you think-

I}{have a secret? i Would like to ShArE
Nothing matters
~'!()_-}{|":?9[;'.],/...!!!?!?!?!?!{({})&"'|)}?/,."}~~~'!

I remember.
I remember the good.
I remember the bad.
I remember who was there.
And I remember I was sad.
Life wasn't meant to be.
The voice in my head said to me.
But, something small was still there.
And complications became aware.
You have no right.
You have no purpose.
I screamed and screamed.
Until I learned this:
You have a home,
You have your loved ones,
You have a right.
You know longer need the wrong.
You can do this.
You are strong.
Here today.
Gone the next.
Goodbye,
To those who don’t deserve this.
I have been lost.
But today, I was found.
You will know longer,
Hold me down.
I am here,
And this me.
So come and see.
Because I am me.
I have a name
I have a purpose.
I have a game.
I can win,
Or I can lose,
This is up to me to choose.
You are not me.
You do not know.
For I have so much more to show.
It is true,
I am not you.
I will never be you.
And I will never need you.
I am me.
I am found.
I picked myself up.
While you held me down.
I am strong now.
And you are weak.
How does it feel ?
How does that feel?
To be where I once stood.
To know my feelings,
To know my pain.
To know you never took the blame!
Where were you?
How could you leave?
Why did you not stay?
The answer I will not have
Nor will I care.
Because no longer
Am I down there.
I am here,
And here I will stay.
This is where I belong.
This is my way.
Not yours.
Not his.
Not anyone’s but mine.
For I am me.
Me, is I.

She stamped me, with that hug
Her perfume is posted on my collar
Why would she have perfume, she
was running
And how did it get pressed on my collar
Now I have to smell her
Breathing a light desire, a thin dust of gypsy magic,
Every third breath.

Pretty peach, I wonder if she curls flowers
If not, she sure does stamp them

They look, they admire they yearn to fill ur shoes and take ur place, they promise the earth I walk on for u and the sky filled with stars we watch together, they offer pure faux promises of eternal love with a life span of two minutes of exploration of ur pleasure carousel...

Once the ride is over who's to say what will happen?

So I jus let them see what they can't afford because the price I paid to have u by my side is worth more, the love u give surpasses any man made possession.

They don't understand that the rhythm of ur heart governs my walk and u are my smile so I'm urs made for u and only u, the bearer of my soul and my life line.

So I exist for u and only u, I can't breathe when we're apart, I live for u and only u

I wouldn't have it any other way,

I am not born as yet,
five minutes before my birth.  
I can still go back
into my unbirth.
Now it’s ten minutes before,  
now, it’s one hour before birth.  
I go back,
I run
into my minus life.

I walk through my unbirth as in a tunnel  
with bizarre perspectives.
Ten years before,
a hundred and fifty years before,
I walk, my steps thump,
a fantastic journey through epochs  
in which there was no me.

How long is my minus life,
nonexistence so much resembles immortality.

Here is Romanticism, where I could have been a spinster,  
Here is the Renaissance, where I would have been
an ugly and unloved wife of an evil husband,
The Middle Ages, where I would have carried water in a tavern.

I walk still further,  
what an echo,  
my steps thump
through my minus life,  
through the reverse of life.  
I reach Adam and Eve,
nothing is seen anymore, it’s dark.
Now my nonexistence dies already
with the trite death of mathematical fiction.
As trite as the death of my existence would have been  
had I been really born.

My imagination is on break
Everything needs a {     }
I don’t feel like writing
Tonight my hand wants the can
Not the wand
Pabst instead of prose
Headache instead of heartache.

Cherries of the night are riper
Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
When he pipes his magic tune:
        Merry, merry,
        Take a cherry;
        Mine are sounder,
        Mine are rounder,
        Mine are sweeter
        For the eater
        Under the moon.
And you’ll be fairies soon.

In the cherry pluckt at night,
With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
        Merry, merry,
        Take a cherry;
        Mine are sounder,
        Mine are rounder,
        Mine are sweeter
        For the eater
        In the moonlight.
And you’ll be fairies quite.

When I sound the fairy call,
Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
        Merry, merry,
        Take a cherry;
        Mine are sounder,
        Mine are rounder,
        Mine are sweeter.
        For the eater
        When the dews fall.
And you’ll be fairies all.

Babylon has fallen! Aye; but Babylon endures
Wherever human wisdom shines or human folly lures;
Where lovers lingering walk beside, and happy children play,
Is Babylon! Babylon! for ever and for aye.
The plan is rudely fashioned, the dream is unfulfilled,
Yet all is in the archetype if but a builder willed;
And Babylon is calling us, the microcosm of men,
To range her walls in harmony and lift her spires again;
The sternest walls, the proudest spires, that ever sun shone on,
Halting a space his burning race to gaze on Babylon.


Babylon has fallen! Aye; but Babylon shall stand:
The mantle of her majesty is over sea and land.
Hers is the name of challenge flung, a watchword in the fight
To grapple grim eternities and gain the old delight;
And in the word the dream is hid, and in the dream the deed,
And in the deed the mastery for those who dare to lead.
Surely her day shall come again, surely her breed be born
To urge the hope of humankind and scale the peaks of morn --


To fight as they who fought till death their ****** field upon,
And kept the gate against the Fate frowning on Babylon.

down by the farm
i heard the fire alarm
ran inside, to find pa, and ma
there was a note, they left for the spa

i looked in my bed
and there was pop
with another woman
in my bed

it was crazy
it grew hazy
i hope they didnt ******
that would be horrible