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 Nov 26 badwords
n
i watched a man lie there
between the end of a fire
and the means to another
red. yellow. green.
strangers watching at the stoplight
it doesn't mean anything

motionless and turning blue
last breaths mean nothing -
when you're living on concrete
"look away, cross the street"
"eyes down, windows up"

cardboard signs
winter coats
shopping carts
broken totes

flashing lights
ticking clocks

i watched a man lie there
and i never got to see him get back up.
-
 Nov 25 badwords
Torri Pines
And she felt like shattered glass
Glistening in the sun sparkling so bright almost blinding
To sharp to hold
So utterly broken beyond repair
Like a fine dust almost like she was not even there
this poem is the last one I wrote down 58 weeks ago instagram tells me hoping to find inspiration to let the writer in me be loud again maybe in this space thanks for reading me.
 Nov 25 badwords
Rick
useless
 Nov 25 badwords
Rick
smoking a bag full of memories
over the flame of your past
you get high on a girl
you no longer love
but can’t stop thinking about
and there’s nothing you can do
to change the way it went down,
only imagine what could’ve been
if you’d done things a bit differently
which somehow hurts more yet makes
you chuckle on the inside
and now’s she’s out there
with other people,
in other places,
doing other things
that don’t involve you
while you sulk in the corner
with the useless bottle,
the useless tears
and the useless fantasies
that you’ve never lived in.
I say relax kid,
if you look back on the entirety of yourself,
you’ve made it through drug overdoses,
car crashes, untruthful rumors, utter loneliness,
suicide attempts and the impeccable timing of bad luck
I’m fairly certain you’ll make it through this too,
it’s only heartbreak.
 Nov 25 badwords
Rick
words that hang like shutters
from broken hinges.

words that hover like nurses
after surgery.

words that splatter like
thin remorse.

I heave with sickness
when they arrive.

I spring with ebullience
when they leave the ** dunk
parts of my mind.

these words
these ******* words
that show up in Pontiacs,
in Plymouths, in Pintos

these nonsensical,
satirical,
antiquated words.

they charge at you
like a dead bovine
swinging from a meat hook.

they crawl towards you
like a silverfish
out of the sink drain.

they creep up on you
like an old ***
rattling a change cup.

why? I ask myself.

why does this happen?

I don’t want this kind of ailment;
give me
bee stings
or bedsores
or steam burns
but not these words,

these words that linger like shingles
across the ribcage of burning torment.

I pray without ceasing
towards a signified God.

I pray for simple sacrifice;

I want suicide rather than poetry.
I want a cow without milk.
I want a statue without structure.
I want a woman without grace.

I can feel the floodgates opening soon
and I think I’m going to puke my guts
out all over this page again.
 Nov 25 badwords
Nick Moore
How many hours
Now spent?
Watching you're
Crocodile tears,
My listening ears
Trying to find
Solutions,
To mind
Pollution's

But the penny has dropped,
It's the drama addiction,
Now
A
Prediction

A
Lesson now learned
Mind clear
Of the
Mires,
There's such things
As
Energy vampires
All I seem to remember
Are the hollow eyes
Peeking from behind damp walls
Walls dripping with misery and the cold winters day
In a land where no flowers break through the heavy clay
Even though they try their best
The beast always catches them at the stem
Tears the blossoms out in calm rage
The feeling sold by its empty eyes
Like a useless spy
Wandering the streets sick with smoke
And liquor

Under starfull skies
Praying to God for a comet
To yell my wish at:
“Oh,to be more than just a clump of cells and flesh and bones
Patching together my soul
Creating something mine
The only thing I can call so“
Because I know each breach carved with the steady occupation
I could lead your hands into the gaps dug by
My litospheric plates moving
                                                   shifting
                                                                colliding
Far too soon

Now I have forests and mountain ranges
Peeking out of my veins
Spreading the dark ecosystem of my mind
I can feel the frost and the gloom biting trough my skin
The fog covering my every inch

Fangs dangerously close to bones
The only part clean of the parasites
Unlike my tunnel-disrupted skin
The penetrated veins sticking out of it

Slowly decaying away
While my heart fills my leaking body with new blood
Sisyphean effort
The life that goes to waste
But stains the flesh a vibrant red
My half-alive corpse
The only thing radiant on this grey lifeless street

The monster slowly kneels down to my side
Pierces its talon through my bone
Sells me to death
Leaves my core to rot
Defeating its defences like an unknown weapon
Injecting terror into the cold white stuff tangled around my heart
                                                                                     stuck around my veins

It sets me onto fire
Letting its own creation burn
For the sake of its pleasures
As the luscious woods burn to just skeletons and dust
The hollow eyes filling with the shadows of the light
As it snarls
A twisted caricature of a smile
Always ,
. . . kept a fire
burning in my heart . . .

Even though
in years
we grew apart . . .

Never could
just let
it go . . . let it be . . .
so now you know

We would dance
coming
in and out of view

You'd cling
to me . . .
I'd hold
onto you

Neither one
cared or
knew better . . .
what
were  we
to do ?

(Chorus)
So we
just kept
dancing . . .
dancing . . .
dancing . . .
the night
away . . .
holding onto dreams
we made up
along the way)

(meanwhile
dancing all the
night away)

(Music) . . . .

Sometimes there was
no better way . . .
not until the sun
chases the night away

so we
kept on dancing ,
dancing . . .
until
we were out of view


(Chorus)
So now
there is
no other way

Stepping back
is impossible
you say

So I'm dreaming
I'm dancing ,  
dancing
all  
the night away

(No better way
til the sun
comes streaming in)

I'll be dancing
the night away
 Nov 25 badwords
Ken Pepiton
Sculpted faces,
aging drama queens,

all the world's stages, this
is after those, these depths
of despair, where no pieces fit,

Kintsugi, fractured flash bulb scene,

an instamatic moment, a Kodak memory.
Hollywood Blvd... just a photomatic meme function we can use... while imagining converting vhs to mp4, before it's more plastic in the sea.
I was never one who liked silence
I'm not particularly sure why
Maybe it reminds me of childhood
Where cries were ignored

Maybe it's because of the voices
That keep rolling around
“Be quiet!” I tell them
But they increase their sound

Piercing through my heart like a dagger blade
It carves my heart to this very day
The silence deafening over me
Until the day it becomes sweet

The silence inside me
I'd rather not keep
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