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Bows N' Arrows May 2015
{ Do those moments of, sort of returning
An unwanted favor
( To some pre-labelled "Victim" )
Silence the rage and
Undigested trauma
In sharp slurs and bitten beatings? }

Soft-spoken and fragile ramblings and
Strumming of chords
Under moonlight.
Torn visionaries speaking in
Luminaries;
Twilight tea bags and broken sandals.
Starting off...
Beginning nervous,
Mistaken by another's train of thought, but
Ever blissful and convinced;
Knowing all the time.
Searching for a moment...
THE moment!
A sudden explosion!
Dazed on faith, maybe, or drunk on inspiration!
Things that may be someday, but either way-
True courage, this thing,
This magic called faith!
Just humble spirits,
Full-bellied spirits
With restless limbs and
Fluorescent wings, invisible.
Rustic sincerity and understanding;
Glasses over swollen azule eyes...
Distillation of hymns
And smoke;
Coffee stained and
Delusional in a pill popping coma!
Whisked away by b-flat, and ones lust for harmonies.
Shooting
Bows and arrows
Aimed at the farthest lushest niche
In the sky;
Opening and closing like a door.
Always becoming!
May 2015 · 243
Pillow-Talk
Bows N' Arrows May 2015
I write,I write, I write!
I sing and smoke!
I sit by an ancient-like oak tree
And choke
On the thoughts In front of me.
I recklessly dabble within shameless ramblings,
Often-times taken in by the seemingly bitter, and
Bleak senselessness of it all...
Get all sunburned like a bruised peach
Under the Suns afternoon glaze,
While remaining content;
Content to be, and breathe,
But In the night I come undone, laughing and
Swaying,
Taking It all In!
Blinking mine eyes trying to remember faces
Upon faces above necks
Did I eat or wrest?
Some dementia soothed away
My exhaustion
And appetite
Vinyl-record like fun,
Images ever more expansive,
Brighter; more extreme
In thought and deed.
Journeying to edges unseen
In my mind sitting still,
But somehow racing on weary
Limbs; numb.
Do I become these thoughts?
Do they become Me?
Dim glow, soft through
A doorway, On suburban streets noticing
The lamps through the windows and curtains down
Echoes of beats and bruises;
On our way to a "get together";
The everyday
Woven through,
And inside out,
Of Infinity
May 2015 · 569
Earthquakes
Bows N' Arrows May 2015
{...A fallen angel still recalls when he had wings
And feels nostalgia for that place
People frequent in Dreams;
Tapping his knees with bruised purple knuckles
From punching in mirrors....}

Undercover adrenaline junkies riding
Roller-coasters and drifting cars;
Walking on ledges.
Heart-beating fast like drums,
And blood is pumping fast in veins
Like a hummingbird.

Surviving off nervous energy!
(Opposite of Morphine)
High speed,
Swift feet and
Twitching rolling fingers;
Running on sugar and caffeine!
Uppers that roar lion-like...

Then suddenly falling
From those ledges,
Crashing those cars and
Sleeping the day away....

That high elated surprise;
Trains moving on railways
Like drops of nectar in wide eyes.
You yell and scream, swirl then sing...
Dazed! Maddeningly drunk on adrenaline!

Flying like thunder-birds wasn't our deal..
We are humans sick with faults
Still
That chaos is calming,
That calamity nurturing, and
The mania resembles sounds,
Live!
Like orchestras!
Bows N' Arrows May 2015
Saint Valentine's cards of cherubs wrapped
In red ribbons
Wresting In pockets Of a trench-coat lying removed.
Pulsating street lamps revealing glittering
Flecks of snowflakes lining tired streets
With skyscrapers.
We covet empty bottles thrown with the intention to shatter;
Watering up the lawns.
I'm dreaming of palm trees rough,
Sun-kissed, and swollen
Like bumblebees had stung them.

Shifting iris' from corner to corner,
Not missing any pleasurable encounter;
Sinking in ***** and choking In smoke.
Lines cut with maxed out credit cards and
Tokes from glass pipes shaped like octopi;
There's single roses and small
Teddy bears
Red hearts hanging from strings from the ceiling.

The wallflower with no significant other In particular,
Seems peculiar in
Contrast to a sparkling demeanor;
Apprehensive to be present, and trying to disguise It.
Everyone is stumbling, dropping their cigarettes;
Howling at the Moon and
Laughing wildly!
May 2015 · 497
Synesthesia
Bows N' Arrows May 2015
Spinning
I heard a whisper clear and kind
And thought maybe I had lost my mind;
Like a pendulum under a setting Sun,
Like nostalgia for castles I've never fought for as
An armored knight congratulated for valor.
I have prayed to piece together visions
Of forests I've glimpsed at
While dreaming awake;
Flashes of lightning when my eyes close.
In words, capturing apparitions;
Lingering echoes from dusty places within my soul.

Who is the god of dreams,
And when he weaves them Is he asleep?
Among distant harps, and violins ringing sharp
Off over the mountains to quiet
Isolated places
Where no-one stands to listen;
But existing  (non-founded and undisturbed)
Still, like blind eyes gazing pale, and opaque
At the stars....

I drink In crowded bars  recalling stark light through entrances
From towers on bays, on beaches
With ******* colored sand that glistens,
Like jewels.
Crystal waterfalls I'd laugh beneath by day...
Candles in dim chambers by night, and
Although Its just a whisper...
(A dream I encountered on
A bus In November,
And On Pavement sidewalks in May...)
I still hear it sometimes
Drifting far off and
Away.
May 2015 · 575
Snapshots
Bows N' Arrows May 2015
Willows in summer, snapshots by pools;
Mittens In winter, sweaters with checkers.
Windshield wipers swaying in spring;
The crunchy tsssk of golden leaves in autumn.

Lunar eclipses, Solar plexus;
Cave paintings on rocky crimson walls and
Balconies, I sit comfortably on.

Lust for linen, Greed for grunge.
Mirrors I look through.
Cigarette buts from scents I packed you.

The signatures and smiles on our sneakers;
Sunlight shining through long square windows
In such a way...

Strange, foreboding fences on streets;
The scent of honeysuckle hanging still In the breeze.
Missing prettified posters of Hendrix and Poe,
And the hood of your beat up car in the snow.


Carnivals with cotton-candy and
Ferris wheels;
Discarded scratch tickets abandoned on the ground.

Cuckoo clocks, In shades of shelter,
Fireworks on the 4th of July;
I was a pierced, tattooed child of Wednesday.

Bonfires and whistles at the mountain party;
Topaz,
And opal rings.
Remembering swaying on tire swings...
VW buses and fireflies;
Pictures In clouds under azure tempered skies....
May 2015 · 230
Maybe
Bows N' Arrows May 2015
I'm at that stop sign where we parked that night;
flooded in melancholia...
Just don't leave me behind and out of sight because
to you...I matter.

Wasting away, drunken displays,
I say pain speaks louder than words.
Take me somewhere dim In these shades I'm sinking In.
Sin all over, again and again...

I'm sighing, off-hand,
Cursing In my head;
Scattered like shards of crystal...

**** I'm so stubborn!
**** I'm too raw!
Like what's the meaning;
The point of this all?
Cross-stitches through my mind from time to time.
(Better to be somber then smile and lie.)

Tearing at myself counting my bruises,
I'm up and down and feeling muse-less.
Its all so hazy on these days I feel crazy,
But there's always that hope of that down-played "maybe".
May 2015 · 416
Telepathy
Bows N' Arrows May 2015
Sometimes hard to tell
Where I begin and someone ends;
Getting caught in one another's silky web
Like drops of rain sinking in, I have stretched myself too thin.
Its maddening just how suddenly twinkles
On a crystal
Turn rusty and begin to dull;
Time to swallow a myriad of oblong pills
To calm my creaky soul.

In an ebony sky I found peace and tried
To piece together someone else's one track-mind;
Just blindsided by the confusions
I found myself using every possible situation,
In stuttering indifference instead of listening and
Being guided, onward
By the universe.

I had a vision of my own design
But while driving there I found only  
Vague guidelines
It's  blurred my vision and
Hard to define,
But once It's there before my eyes
I'll breathe it in like a lavender sunshine.

Dissolution.
Breaking down conceptions;
Its has been hard to survive this but, In the end,
I've come to see that those moments of questioning myself...
(Probably just care too much about what people think and maybe
Its time for me to believe in me.)

— The End —