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Alyse M King Jul 2012
Please assume the assumption
I might possess poor word choices.
Clichés and Redundancies
A must while
Buzzing Metaphors
Echo around your head
Reverberating nouns
Excuse me
While I replay my loves
Like Romeo and Juliet,
How It Should Have Been’s,
Turned Tragic Ending.
Two cups Darjeeling
Makes a meal
With untouched coffee
The likes of which drain
My sanity at this hour
Is maybe abnormally
Low leveled or flat lined
Just below that one place,
You know the one,
On the way out of town
If you cross the Bridge of Hope
You’ve gone too far
And if and when
The memories turn
Rolling through the lost
Darkened corridors
Remember that tonight
You will not fear the dark
Or it’s all encompassing
Lack of glow
I wonder off the deep end
To lie by your smell
Swirling shower steam
Kaleidoscopes neurons
Twisting just enough to ache
In that small pocket spot
My soul saved for you
Before the time
Of any rational thought
Warping paragraphs
In a most pitiful attempt
To explain the unseen
All dances out
Across pages
Cryptically bound
By poetry
Alyse M King Apr 2012
At night,
I paint my secrets
Lemon and Cobalt:
Sour for the flavor,
Sharp consonants
For the pain.
When they mix
They form a shade
Green as growth,
And bright
as day.
Alyse M King Mar 2012
Last night I dreamed
My life as a comic book.
An intermingled mess,
Those who have not read
Every single issue,
Cannot begin to know.
A brightly colored spectrum
Of unexpected blows.
Amidst all the villian’s
Unrelenting throws
Of powers no more
Than planting
The seeds of self doubt,
I stood armed to fall.
As each seed landed
Upon  my head,
I fell to watch
Each punch line
Read only
and “Kapow!”.
The plot never thickened
And never came to save me.
In a story
from the villan’s head,
Perpetually trapped
Until the hero returned
to write her portion
of my tale.
As the seeds grew
Into absolute fear,
A twisted feeling
Took hold of my gut.
Who is the antagonist
and who the protagonist?
Alyse M King Mar 2012
Words do not appeal
Though I know how well they heal.
Searching for some sedation
For this lack of inspiration;
A crucial sense of thought
Seems something I haven’t got.
A blur and a whirl of sound,
Idling ‘round and ‘round,
Lost for what to say
With little to display.
So I scrounge and search
To muster a tiny lurch;
I lunge in any direction,
Searching for the connection
Between what is real
And how I feel.
Alyse M King Mar 2012
when do we lose our childlike enthusiasm?
where did we drop the need for fresh air and imagination
while picking up habits and challenges?

trees to climb
swings to grasp
sunrays to catch

when do we lose the ability to be oblivious?
when do we start to notice the dirt and stink
instead of the light and amusement?

how easily we are trained to despise
   bugs, snow, ***** dishes and dusty living rooms.
things once enjoyed or unseen
   attack the mind from immeasurable angles.

when does a sense of lost time begin?
where did we lose a sense of inner peace and simply being
in the panic of a lost day?

errands to run
houses to clean
lost sleep to find

when do we learn to draw the lines of priorities?
when do we start to feel exhaustion and ache
instead of exhilaration and glee?

how simple things turn complicated and unmanageable
   cars, work, insurance quotes and bank statements.
things now necessary to progress
   are dead weight with pounds of options.

when do we come to know bitter as more than a flavor?
when do we start to understand deep regret and sorrow
instead of apologies and accidents?

lovers to spite
tears to banish
mishaps to unravel

when do we decide to settle?
when do we lose the desire to dream and achieve
only to replace it with fear and mediocrity?

how suddenly our lives come to as good as it gets
   the job, the house, the spouse.
things sought for reasons truly unknown
    buried in twisted responsibilities.

weight to lose
wrinkles to remove
aging to face

When do we begin to grow old?
Alyse M King Mar 2012
The hot, burnt coffee scorches my tongue
A fair warning-
That pink, fleshy appendage serves to remind me
However much I enjoy something
If I don't pay attention
It might jump at the chance to bite me.
Alyse M King Mar 2012
Dancing in the sullied public laundry room
A young woman
Is she a glow or is she smiling,
With her mind astray?

A parking lot ****** observes
Unsure of her intent.
Is she dancing in euphoria
Or is dancing to create her vivacity?
Is this bliss or is this gloom
Manifested in the same way?

Neither dancer nor examiner can be certain
Is she dancing
In happiness or simply to push
Her demons away?
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