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 Jan 2017 Wanderer
Scar
I will kiss you on trailer kitchen floors,
And make you trace my corduroy with
Your grown out fingernails.

But your brain resides in elsewhere -
The place between two auburn freckles
In the cork skin milk.

Tomorrow never does arrive as
We exist in strictly today -
Holiday ties and river guides.

There are only so many times that I
Can haunt the roof of my mouth with
Cave drawings of made-up memories.

Only so many times that I can turn
Up the volume and smash my skull
Off of those reverberating guitar strings -

Hammer those bar chords / Say Goodnight.

Say goldenrod.
Say Time Machine.
Say velvet dress & radio wars.
Say Eileen on a dance floor.
 Jan 2017 Wanderer
Jack Jenkins
How my heart grasps for you, your thunderous breeze across the swept up pieces of my broken, maligned heart.

I do not want to write mere words to you, or scrape up mere feelings for you. Those belong on the surface.
I want to dig deep into myself and express the surrender I have for you

I've been here before, you know I have. And I left her stars in my poems but ultimately I did leave her; and you became my star. My sparkle of gold in the dark chasms of my being.
You are not lost to me.

I've been here before and I'm willing to stand here again, fight here again, endure here again because of who you are to me! We are not flimsy straw and fickle mist. We are steel and flame together. Sharp and burning.

My soul cries out for you, yet do not dwell on my miseries because you are not lost to me. You are not lost. Every tender kiss on your forehead, every night I hold you let's me keep fighting on for the day our hands interlock again.

*Close your eyes and feel beyond the surface.
https://youtu.be/Uwh0fCaYs_4
 Jan 2017 Wanderer
Eric Martin
She put a spell on me
She manipulates my heart with alchemy
I love her with no control
Because she controls my very soul

She is so enchanting and mysterious
Her sorcery has got me delirious
I'm her servant and her puppet
And part of me loves it

Some voodoo and a hex
For some ritualistic ***
Under the blood moon a celebration
For the God of *******

My sweet little pixie
Raising the dead with her necromancy
As I watch with dread
She dances with the dead

Witchcraft and conjuring demons from hell
Mystic horrors as the sacrifices scream and yell
I must break free from these sinister restraints; I must rebel
But I can't stop their pains because with magic in my veins I am just a
shell

I am like a doll stuck in its head and helpless
Left to panic about how she is relentless
She is so charming its alarming                        
I wonder who els she will be harming

The ****** psychotic *****
This seductive destructive witch
As long as I am hexed
I am going to be be next
This was a poem I just wrote in my book just to get some ideas down so I could turn it into a song after. I didn't think it was good enough to post here at first but on a second inspection I thought some one might like it.(later) should I change "God Of *******" if its too graphic? I was thinking Devastation, Cremation, Mutilation, Pleasure and sensation, I know there are more but I can't think of any. I just don't want to loose people so early on or I know people might just think its gross.
 Jan 2017 Wanderer
SG Holter
Writing in love, and then
Writing without.
Breaking two stones with
One bird.

I'm a poet, my darling.
I can **** with a feather,
Revive you with one written  
Word.
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