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Asa D Bruss Oct 2014
It’s just about the same, just about all the time
The same graspy-gropey pulling-tuggery and un-buttonzippiness.
Like two eggs having to hatch all over again again and again. We question our shells.
Sometimes we’ll remember to wear packaging that comes apart easy enough,
so the present can be opened, put on the bed, beat the hell out of, and put back in its wrapper.
It seems so random.
As again again, no maybe not today, again again, so soon to see the sight of such a familiar stranger near. They fall together on sight as if shot, and tear apart the bows and strings again.

Two piles of oxygen cling and conform to one another
writhing and ceasing like a water in the wind
they get lost
and again again beating the wall with frothing endorphin's
feeding the bull and the bear
hoping to satisfy a chemical equation.
The Human element left asking, “How am I supposed to feel?”

Together they clash;
two piles of oxygen, two waves from opposing ends of a spectrum
force fit together with hopes of a harmony.
They make a new heartbeat,
and form a new flesh,
and learn to see God for a fleeting moment,
and then detach.

Cut in half they fly apart, now two distant starts on a chart
and wander as aimlessly as the many breaths expelled.
Inhale, exhale, open up, ****, **** and then ...disappear.

This speed-of-light life is made vain in so many ways.
We destroy ourselves with nature.
We **** our minds with pleasure,
and ignore truth beyond any attempts to measure.

Thus is the fate of the fleshly things.
I feel like when Adam and Eve first saw their nakedness they realized they had a new master that would never let them go.
Asa D Bruss Oct 2014
“Hello. Get me a regular, cream no sugar.”
I am the thief, the slave, and the beggar.
“No, not decaf, thanks. How much?”
I am the pillager, the terrorist, the serial killer.
“Keep the change.”
I am the human centipede and the necrophilic, cannibalistic undertaker.

“Oh hey whatcha reading? Hmm? oh, no, I just got coffee.”
I am the Roman general crossing the rubicon, proclaiming loudly that the die is cast.
“Yeah, I think it has something to do with how they roast it; just makes it better.”
I am Plato; discovering the realm of the forms and discussing all things with all people.
“Yeah, that’s true...I don’t know why I can’t make it that good at home.”
I am the ascended one; making spiritual love to the soul of the universe and seeing all things.
“Somewhat remarkable isn’t it?”
Asa D Bruss Oct 2014
Tell me a story about all the lost people
all the lost people in chairs.
They sit and they cry
all while wishing to die
and look up
and nobody cares.
Their bodies, they cover the rooftops
for they fling themselves high in the air.
They lie there in shame
for they realize all was a game,
and it gives them, oh such a scare.

Where are their raspberry Tuesdays?
They have fallen from the passage of time.
Where are their ***-raisin Fridays?
They have oozed from the last of the slime.
Our fancies and dainties are dust on the ground.
We incline ear towards decay, yet it don’t make a sound.
For those times I look at the world and lament at the state of men.
Asa D Bruss Oct 2014
If the sight of you causes me death, let it be.
What more shall ever I plea?
Oh dear God, please oh please, show me your face.
Proven you are, near and far: more than enough.

Save that I can't bear to see nothing but dirt
again again again. So much of nothing to see.

Show me truth, beautifully.
Show yourself,
For being is beautiful.
The shadows of things I see: They are shadows of shadows to thee.
My dear love may you be
ever more in my mind
as my love.
Christ, I beg, set me and me free to see.
to see to see to see
the wonderful beautiful terrible beauty you and I and all in
we are.

The world is not but nothingness; may it pass on all the sooner.
May man who rules the pile dirt; may he slaughter himself in his vanity.
I don't care, I don't care, I don't dare.
for mankind is insanity.
It is truth we cannot find; we are limited so by our minds.

But oh how true in the light that you and I and all in
we are in your heart
forever eternally.
Let it be.
There have been a few moments in my life that he showed me such beauty I'd think to myself "I don't even care, this is more than enough. Just take me now." This one I was probably trembling and singing when I wrote it.
Asa D Bruss Oct 2014
Oh to say it so dearly, It was a great show.
I stayed out and watched it for a good hour.
The wind had come out of some hidden pocket. Like a thief in the night,
it scurried out excitedly through the screen door flying shut behind it,
and looking at the stark line drawn across the horizon;
a wall of cloud with so distinct an edge of gray, and at the same time
so thin
as to see the shadow
blue sky on the other side.

It was just a sheet.
The wind like a blanket,
energy surged, and the blood pumped a little faster at it's touch.
Then leaves began swirling,
as if fleeing for cover around the legs.
sweeping over to the porch,
while the canvas of clouds pitched its ever looming tent.
On over to get a plain view of my street lamp,
watching the tree's now twisting like spaghetti;
branches twisting in ways you would expect to break them,
all with a humdrum pitter-patter of rogue raindrops,
accompanied by that shrill electric thickness...
that makes your skin simmer, your mind hum, and your eyes glow.

The light of the streetlamp showing all the rain more clearly,
and all at once coming like a horde en masse down a hill.
Someone had given the signal,
and so it began.
The floodgates were released.
The opera had begun in earnest, with it's effects and sounds, lights, action!
The foreplay had given way to the full force of wetness.

In the pith of the light it looked as though the lamp was now a fountain.
The lightning being so evenly dispersed, the sky like a screen to see a stroboscopic chaos, so serene.
The wind and rain so perfectly mixed,
so perfectly so to syphon off a single breath of mist upon the face.
I stood like a boy of six in a parade.
Enthralled by the power, the nonchalance, and the purity of might.
Humans and animals, cars and bicycles, birds and branches, all pulling a hasty retreat.

I watched and watched, and watched more, and never got bored, only a little damp.
I came in and went up to the bedroom above the porch and lay on my window cloud
and drowsily watched the show in a bubble, til the end.

Nothing lets me see so clearly like a good rain.
People who wish for sunshine everyday are idiots.
Just sat and watched it... so glad I did.
Asa D Bruss Oct 2014
kikki obadoo bird in a
kikii obabdoo tree just
sitting there shooting the leaves,
mocking all the trees all up in the air,
no reason to run around town, and no reason to leave.
I'm amazed at it's song.
It has no burden or work to do. It does not toil or spin
and yet is clothed in that finest cloak. happy happy happy,
Like a second semester named sylvester the molester
there is so much I could do.

It's all a little fuzzy and I feel kinda dumb all of a sudden.
I just think I know, which is silly.
It's a good lesson in humility,
but since I am not
sufficient and you
are
please show me
what it is in your
word that I should know.
That we should show ourselves.
I love you God.
I love you with all I am.
There's a lot of times I'm just rambling to myself and they only reason it ever ends up being a poem is because he takes a hold of the pen.
Asa D Bruss Oct 2014
Let the wordse flow, don't even care if hte spellin is right,
don't look back, not for a second.
Consume your own face today,
lean not on your own understanding
but on every mouth
from the word of God's divine understatement.
I love you so, oh I do, I must,
because nothing can inhibit my
love it flows free like a wave on the rocks
the tempest. You are to me
the unending sea
of love that pours
forth over the agony
I love to live in every day.
I am a wretch and my face is torn from stern to stem.
Where are you my darling? you are right here.
Give me not one look of nothing, give me only
bursts of something. I want from you one true thing, and that is meaning.
Do not tarry. Fill me with joy for this once in my life.
**** away all my depraved mad man mind, filled with irrational tribulational and hallucinational enemies
and ardent forms of torture.
Let me breathe for this once in my life.

I love you. I loven you. I lover you.
My passion should be locked away in a cage
it rages forth
like a lion in the sun
who knows no fear from
bird or snake or fowl fish or beast nor any set before it.
Let me trample you with love.
Give me no shred of pain for my deliverance has come.
Let me soak myself in your personassssssssLet me drink
to the depths of your mind.
Wash over me,
for I am unclean and thirsty, and so in-need of drowning.
give no second glance
at my scarred and writhing paws,
bound with thorns.
I am a creation of my own mind.
I am the uncircumcised bone tissue
that sits on the table and turns to dust
as the rains beat down with fury and rage.

Bleed me dry,
allow not a single trace of resistance from me,
take everything till I am nothing left at all.
Squeeze me into a shadow of what I once was,
for that is all I am.
A shadow,
give me life, give me shelter
within your soul,
let me hide away in your belly.
Do not force me out,
I am blind
and the world is soooooooooooo cold.
Do not let me detach from your face.
It brings me light like no other,
do not let me walk away in anger,
please for the love of God remind me that I love you.
That I know no happiness,
that cruelty has been my shadow,
that misery has followed me to the ends of the earth.
Show me again where my joy comes from.
Do not let me destroy myself by forsaking you.
I love, it is all I can do in such times.
I am trapped within myself.
Myself, and not you.
If you've ever cried while you write a poem then this probably makes a heck of a lot of sense to you.
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