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Blacker than the Ace of Spades
Where virulence, in spiteful, ways.
Where tumult in the Crown of Thorns
Upon his bleeding head, adorns.
Runs blacker than the pitch of night
In league with avarice and spite.
Though earthworms in dark caverns writhe
Whilst ***** in ****** shadows, lithe,
Paint black, the shade in Heaven's Gate.....
Assuredly, the hue of Hate!

M.
A difference of opinion here, in reviewing Nat's belief that Hate is but a sheer Transparency?
 Apr 2018
PrttyBrd
I
am
******

and not in a clawing flesh, body convulsing, banging headboard kind of way

that kind of ****** I can rock the **** out of.

No
I am more the
twisted mess of forced misconception
enlightened by time innocence forgot
forced into a life guided by trust in the lies truth told

Yeah,
it's the end of life as I know it
that's the kind of ****** I am

I knew joy
it was based on trust in what was true

I knew love
it was built on that same foundation

So yes,
I am ******
this mess of **** crumbling to pebbles while blinding me in the dust of my own ignorance
is anything but blissful

and all I hear are the cries of beautiful dying
not that dying is beautiful, though it can be
but of the death of beautiful things
of things I found implicitly lovely
the painful dying of all I believed was good

I am so ****** sideways

protected by others
I can no longer say for certain who I am
or who I believe myself to be

****** hard and unrecognizable
***** into truth by the kindness of others

No more questions because I am ****** that way too
no one wants to hear their old news and ***** laundry

I knew love once
now all I love, I question
reliving my choices in reasons why
trying to piece together my life had I always known
trying to define how I love by my own definitions
and not by what I knew love to be
because that love never existed
only in my ******, shattered memory

So, hey
guess what
I used to love you
now it's tainted with yesterday's **** streaks

I'm still me
But boy
am I ******
41718
298w
Voice clip:. https://drive.google.com/file/d/14k4Lbkm4_S8z9zfBWmKe0Fyu2SlHT1x9/view?usp=drivesdk

copy link into address bar to listen
 May 2016
Sjr1000
She's texting me from
old L.A.
Heading north on the El Camino Real
driving fast on 101

I'm heading west
from Paradise, Nevada
No work here
It's all shut down

Driving through
Susanville
Hat Creek
Shingletown
Redding
Across the burning Trinity Alps
the river sure is beautiful
My heart is soaring,
just missed that landslide
late last night

Meeting my life in Humboldt County

She, from the South
Me, from the East
We cross that
Redwood Curtain
Right into the heart of the Emerald Triangle

Meeting my true love in Humboldt County

They say the streets
are lined with
green gold

The family "grows,"
up in the hills
where everyone is welcome
to trim scene solutions,
the emerald gardens
with trees six feet high
Glistening buds as big as your fist,
Everyone is smiling
Everyone is high
sure I may reek
of that Marijuana resin
but two hundred dollars a day
flirting all the way
all I can eat
all I can ****
sounds a lot like heaven to me.

I'll be getting that 215
growing plants
as far as the eye can see
Another millennium
with back problems, insomnia and anxiety.
My fortune is just waiting for me.

Meeting my sweet love in Humboldt County

Like an old Woody Guthrie tune
you ain't gonna find nothing
without that dough re me

There ain't no doubt
that ****, so pure
will get you so high
you'll be wishing your still alive
No matter how high you get
There will still be reality.

Gotta get out of this indoor grow
Black mold growing up the walls
The floors are buckling
The ceiling too
The electrical is sparking
Another landlord on the hook
What's a boy to do?

The methamphetamine
The ****** machine
Trying not to blow my face off
with a butane tank
making that concentrated cannabis

Cold and wet
sleeping bag soaked on the beach,
A tent in the Devil's Playground
the  homeless encampment
behind the Bayshore Mall
that's what I met
and don't leave your ****,
It'll be gone in a quick minute.

The gardens are beautiful
good chance I'll never see 'em
The man with the ball cap
The big *** truck
holding a shot gun
"Better move on, son,
No trespassing here. "

I'm just
another dread locked kid
on the Arcata Plaza
with a dog I can't take care of

Down in Eureka
on concrete Broadway
Fourth Street
Fifth Street
Old Town
Where the fights break out
The cops they have no patience
Another Drunk in Public
drunk tank
Back on those same streets
at one a.m.

Get too crazy
5150 for an overnight stay,
second floor in County Mental Health,
walls closing in,
Psychiatrist says
"We ain't got nothing for ya,
good luck out there. "

Meeting my sweet love in Humboldt County

Once here
there is no way out
Panhandlers
Hitchhikers
on every corner
No one's giving out
No one's picking up

I'm gonna need my family
to send that Moneygram
Get me on a Greyhound Bus
haven't heard a word from them yet.

Even the police say
No one's gonna accept me,
So they ain't gonna pay.

I've been
Trying to leave a message
for my sweet love,
haven't seen her for a month,
She headed up to Trinidad
with a would be spiritual monk

The Redwoods spiral to the skies
The ranchers own the green
pastured hills
The beaches are vast and empty
The ocean is wilderness wild
waiting for the tsunami
turn your back on the ocean
you may fall in
many have fallen
few survive
on the most exquisite
blue sky day
you've ever seen.

Meeting my true love in Humboldt County.
Inspired by Bruce Springsteen's Atlantic City.
For r who told me to write this a couple of years ago. I should add that Humboldt County is considered the Marijuana capital of the U.S., lures many young kids thinking their going to find riches and nirvana.
 Nov 2015
Bellis Tart
I remember saying to you, "I want you SOOO bad!"
I want all your parts, the light and dark, I want you even after so long
even though you're gone I want you
like a kid wants to see Santa on Christmas eve, hoping for a glimpse of the elusive man, not even questioning his validity
I want you like hot fudge on ice cream, the perfect compliment to my frigid self loathing, hot and sweet covering every inch, making me melt, I want you like the bros at the gym want gains
out of this world gains, hard work pays off gains
the protein to your muscle, stronger than the weight on your shoulders, I want you the way a tree buds and grows its leaves into the most lush escape, only to send them off with the most colourful goodbye awaiting their return in the spring, I want you like my dog wants food
and let me tell you one singular thought fixates his mind, and that is eating
I want you like an soft song played on the strings of a perfect evening, while we slow dance in the dark
I want you like an ice cold beer on a hot summer day! the spritz of the cap, bubbling with anticipation, the sweat forming on the bottle dripping down your finger as you touch it to your lips and then,
ahhh pure refreshment, quenching my Sahara thirst
I want you like how green grass, and shrubs and flowers and trees all grow towards the sun, innately seeking the heat source of life, the very sustenance that keeps them alive, I want you
like the air
all around me, I wanna feel you permeate every cell in my body, wanna feel you expand my lungs, and pump my heart, fire neurons in my brain sending electric signals to every muscle tingling my nerves
I want you like the first snowfall
magical and nostalgic, cozy and beautiful
I want you the way I wanna write poetry that saves lives, the way I want the words to build themselves with every pen stroke and speak to you, I want you the way no one has ever wanted me
worth the effort, if you would just try to see I could build a universe around us, so we would have our own stars that shine for our eyes only, and we would never miss a chance to watch the beauty of our stars crossing the sky,
I want you with feelings, and that uncomfortable "communicating" thing that I do so well for a living but struggle to do with you, I want you raw and exposed
our souls bared, a connection even fully clothed, I want you so bad
was all that I could muster under that gin soaked cloak of bravery
I should have said, that all I really wanted
was for you to want me too
if you are measured by how gracefully you let go of things not meant for than I have surely failed before, so why is my silent escape a ballet with you when I know you were meant for me, and me for you!
It's not you, it's me
Nov.25/15
 Nov 2015
Bellis Tart
there are things
that I find impossibly hard to describe
that make my day
that much more intolerable
like the first crack
that was made in my strong,
once thought invincible, heart
sustained from realization
you are too far away to come back
the second
when I knew I would have to learn
new things without you here to share it with
cracked
when I wish you'd have been around
to back me up, no matter what
cracked again
from seeing your classmates
living their lives
moving away, by choice
cracked
knowing that those other new families
started by your peers
will never include yours
cracked
my children will never know
what an amazing uncle they had
cracked
when my mind searches
and recalls only vague recollections
of your face, and smile
cracked
when I can no longer
hear your voice as it once sounded
cracked
every time I mess up
knowing I owe it to you, to do better
cracked
on the day you'd have been a year older
or the days you loved in the winter, on the snow
cracked
till there's nothing left to be cracked
and my heart breaks
(c) 03/02/11
to the moments that it feels like my heart is crumbling,
I know you're only here to make me stronger!
 Sep 2015
AW
If I were a word, you’d be pronunciation
You'd make me, break me, just with how you say me
And tell me how to sound
I’d have a different meaning when you mumble in the morning
In your daytime dazzling
Or when you shout at night
My existence right is with the emphasis you put on me
And silently I die out when I’m the sound you swallow,
Still
Still I am,
When I fall out of slang, replaced by another that sounds just like you want
Still I stand, in your old dictionary
That you haven’t used since you strike the right tone
Not alone, I stand, as you stand beside me
Even when you think you left to sing another tune
You spell me, explain me
In little scribbles right behind me that no one understands
Thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t sound the way I do
But it’s time now to leave you, leave you to die
As you won’t live without me, but on paper
I revive
 May 2015
Grant Horst
An onslaught of rain
dripping on his battered sneakers,

Head down with grief
he just wants to call the reaper.

His plentiful cries
disguised because of the tormenting sky.

No more love in his heart,
even outside it appears dry.

He repeatedly asks why,
the sorrowful beginning of his demise.

His head soaking wet,
just this one moment left him baptized

The blink of an eye is too quick
for a soul to leave it's eyes.

Even the most wise of our time
couldn't protect the prayers of this size.

That memory controlling his head,
taking up all the space once used to plan ahead.

He had committed no crime,
but he sees in constantly stuck on rewind.

Nowhere to go,
Nowhere to be,

he crawls to the phone booth to hear her voice
one last time.
I hope you like.
 Apr 2015
Cedric McClester
By: Cedric McClester

In a world
That’s so politically correct
What are we to call ‘em
Thugs -  or criminal suspects
Perhaps it’s something else
That we should project
Maybe our language
Needs to be checked

Must urban youth
Be marginalized
As a result of their misdeeds
Or can we recognize
That they have certain needs
They haven’t realized
We read the news feeds
And then we demonize

Is it a riot
Or an insurrection
Maybe it requires
Some more introspection
Before we decide
It’s their predilection
Because the evidence
Leads us in that direction

I don’t know
Who it was that stated
What poverty often does
Is underrated
And victims of poverty
Are often hated
Though the larger implications
Are complicated


© Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
 Mar 2015
Nina
A slam poem


Your contact picture was taken the day you forgot to buy me a Christmas present
And when I scroll through my phone and see your name I remember crying until my pillow was painted black with streams of dashed hopes and childish mistakes.
On our third date you took the clip out of my hair and put it in yours and I haven't worn it since. Now I keep that clip in a desk drawer and try not to remember the way your voice cracked when you whispered my name and breathed your secrets into my mouth before trying to rip them back out through my heart when you decided you'd had enough of laughing over clips in your hair.
At night I lay awake and command my mind to conjure up any thought that's not you in your grey tuxedo, you in your painted skin that you outgrew when you smoked your first cigarette, peeling layers of who you were when you still filmed ghost hunting videos and touch-ups of who you are now, with your tears like rare prizes I wish I could collect in bottles and auction off to every past girl you've ever loved. And ****, there's a lot of girls.
But in the grand essay of your every past love I am the typo on the third page that knocks down your grade two points, the ****-up you would do anything to hit backspace on, the messy extra letter that somehow is overlooked by your meticulous eye because it's 2 am and you stopped giving a **** at 10. I am the coffee stain that gives away your procrastination like a badge worn across your chest, like a bruise on your forehead she may notice when she leans in to kiss you, like a tear in your favorite tie that she will see when she slides it off your neck and slips it sensually onto her own, not knowing I think about hanging myself with that very tie 1036 times a day if only I thought for one second it would awaken you from the slumber you fell into when you found whiskey and me that one December night on the countertop that wasn't even our own.
And I awake every morning drenched in heartache and heavily breathing out the rhythm your heart would drum as I lay at night with my head on your chest and my heart in your hands and my body in your mind. I was the glass sculpture you couldn't resist playing with no matter how many times you were warned not to, I was the wet paint sign you couldn't resist testing, I was the fire alarm you just had to pull.
But I would burn my tongue on coffee watching the sunrise with you again and again and again if it would resurrect the Christmas lights that burned like dying stars in my stomach in the fleeting moment where I truly believed you could love me, your kisses like butterfly wings that became bats all too quickly, your love like a fever that broke too fast- sweating and crying in bed at 2 am-I MISS YOU AND I HATE YOU AND I NEED YOU.
Yet maybe I knew along that this would happen. Yes, maybe I saw you as an opportunity to rekindle my old romance with anger and pain and depression, maybe when my friends told me you were bad news, I rejoiced in the idea of my old friends returning so much so that I opened the door and said "come on in," arms opened wide, play dough mind in their hands.
Or maybe I just really loved you.
Performed slam
 Mar 2015
PrttyBrd
The pain seeps out in flashes of insanity
I do not doubt you love me
Though I will always wonder why
In my shattered self-image
In my innate ability to be unseen
Was born an adolescent desire
A desperate need
A yen to be quenched of doubt
To be noticed
To be seen
Both within and without
In that longing to be alive
To be sure that I am a tangible being
In that way I push limits
I test boundaries like a child
Taxing the last nerve of an exhausted parent
Pushing hard until something breaks
Proving I matter enough
Or proving I can bend reality
Until I matter not
To anyone
For surely there is a reason I remain
Unseen
Unheard
Invisible
Intangible
Irrelevant
And Unnoticed
So I push when I'm hurt
Because you promised you won't leave
And I believe you
You said I meant everything I always wanted to mean to someone
And I believe you
You said you'd do anything and everything it takes to make me smile
And I believe you
The pain seeps out in flashes of insanity
I test boundaries like a child
Not because I doubt you
Because I need to always believe
32315
My weakness is not a reflection of your strength. I do not doubt you. I only doubt myself.
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