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 May 2016
goner
the end
looks a lot like me;
b i l l o w e d,
(( s h r o u d e d )),
rain c l o u d eyes.
twįstęd tongues
which speak in lies.
mælstrøm mind
manipulates,
-&- 
measured malice
concentrates.  
dosing mostly those
that mean the most to me.
and though it be the me
that I try not to be,
t h e  e n d
looks a lot like me.

-@gonegonegoner-
Instructions: don't feed the wildlife.
 May 2016
Michael Blonski
We are a collection
of fear
of what we will
regret
when we are no
longer able to
take in breath

Everyone fears
leaving a blank
journal
behind
For those
readers who
survive
 May 2016
Michael Blonski
Somewhere
out there
in the world,
someone is
kissing their
lover
for the first time

While another
is
having a
new round
of
drinks
hoping to erase
the memory
of a kiss
from their past
 May 2016
Torin
You as a layman
May never experience this
And it is most likely
You won't
But
If you ever catch on fire
Remember the three rules I speak of now
1.stop
          Don't panic, realize your situation, and that you can be okay though calm, concerted effort, don't run! Running only creates oxygen to fuel the flame
2.drop
         Fall to the floor, even the very act of being on the floor smothers whatever part of you that is burning that hits the floor. And it is necessary to be on the floor to achieve the most important lesson being taught within my words
3.telephone
          Now that you are on the floor, pull out your telephone. Strike a pose, and take a selfie. Because for gods sake you are on fire, and you know that it can go viral. And really, dying by burning to death is worth it if you are able to entertain someone in doing so. Instagram will go crazy over you

And I suppose step four would be after you have a picture you like, then  roll to put the fire out. But most people never make it this far.
 May 2016
Nora
a courtesy conditioned,
disingenuous inquisition
societal reflexes true and
queued because they don't
******* care
 May 2016
Just Me R
I wanted to go
Talons inviting me so
Claws grabbing my very soul
Tired of this world

From darkness came light
A hand that grabbed me tight
Pulled me from this plight
With all your loving might

Before I drowned in blackness
Before I fell into the abyss
With your tender loving kiss
You saved me from my self

.. and made me feel wanted again....
 May 2016
Maple Mathers

Find what you love,
and **** it.

Before it kills
you.

If you ain't that viscous, you ain't ambitious.
 May 2016
Maple Mathers

the ghosts of
my past?

and when we got too close,

did they haunt you,
too?
(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
 May 2016
Maple Mathers
ripping you to
shreds?
I don’t know if you’ve noticed
The clot of doubt, that’s ebbing the flow
The words I hide, my thoughts unshown
Your penciled eyes, ablaze beneath
The tangible grip you'd like to keep. . .

But, I’m slipping
out of your
reach.
 May 2016
gray rain
In a white room
thirty people
empty and plain
yet full and lively
everyone different
everyone same
stuck in a system
for hours every day
preparing for a future
that may not exist
existence destroyed
by being uncreative

in a white room
thirty people
just numbers
in a system
different numbers
but no name
 May 2016
mike dm
i jus now saw
some dude
literally move
the apt. dumpster
so to paint
the wall white
behind it;

a wall, which,
will be completely ******* covered
by the dumpster,
after putting it back
against the newly painted white wall.

plus im pretty sure they're calling for rain..

that happened.

i actually witnessed that happen:
and, then, proceeded to
turn around
-awkwardly-
to go back inside my apt.,
with two full trashbags in hand.

... do you even realize what that means??

somebody actually gave him
that task: "go paint behind the dumpster."
aren't there other things to do?
or is this guy's boss that much of a ******
that he'd tell his employee,
"heyyy soo.... the wall.. behind the dumpster --
you know that wall? yaa
it needs to be painted.."

i mean, it'd be one thing
if, like,
the wall were
visible. and gross looking.
and people were calling
and complaining
about it,
like it was some eyesore
that offended their
otherwise
aesthetic enjoyment
and anticipation
of approaching
the scuffed forest green
apt. dumpster.

but it's not;
so it's not;
and so
they aren't.

or i'd get it if people routinely socialized
hanging around dumpsters,
like a water-coolor
or something;

buuut they don't;
so it's not
like a water-cooler..

... yaaa, unless i'm missing something here,
as far as i know,
there have been no
emerging cultural trends
whereby large groups of people
are routinely finding some
sorta symbolic resonance with
the object of a
dumpster;

it's gravitas
doesn't exactly
prompt frequent and
spontaneous dialogue
around it.

it isn't a known cultural artifact,
representing something meaningful and
bigger than ourselves, creating cohesion
and establishing an intangible commonality:

behold, our goodly trash-bearer!
great eater of things prolly totally not needed!
humble builder of plastic trash continents,
swirling vortex in the middle of the high seas!


nobody says that.

ever.

and nobody
is overstaying their visit
at a giant,
smelly
metal maw
which disposes things,
either unneeded or unwanted,
long enough
to suddenly notice that
the wall behind it
could maybe use a new paint job.

it's not exactly a cafe.
it's a ******* dumpster.

that man,
charged with the task of
painting the wall whiter
behind the dumpster,
ought to be
painting
on a canvass

which we all could see,
visible to the greater public.
and we would celebrate it, with him.
we could all gather
together, and toast
to his mind manifest, his art,
on display for all to see.

i wanna see THAT.
**** the white wall
behind the
******* dumpster.
that **** can wait.

what visions would surface?
how would he render it?

what would
he make?

i dunno

maybe
he'd paint
a surrealist depiction
of a man
charged with the task
of painting white
a wall behind a dumpster
as rain clouds
rolled in overhead,
spelling out

"i am Employer.
destroyer of worlds,
and vibes.
feel my ****** wrath."
 May 2016
gray rain
Hypnotised
by a system.
Drawn in
to become a victim.
controlled!
by the mind,
can't tap into the other side;
when hypnotised.
 May 2016
Stranger Blue
Poor, poor angry soul.
What's the secret to your control?
Like Banner said staring blankly.
"There is no secret.... I'm always angry."

Angry about what the world has become.
Why society only favors some?
We are becoming a people without love.
Following the eagle instead of the dove.

Angry about the reason poverty thrives
Why the rich get richer like they're breaking out in hives?
Angry about our economy breaking down.
Doesn't matter who's fault it is...
White, Black, Yellow or Brown.

Angry about why people can't find a job.
Leaving them to beg, borrow, steal and rob.
I could go on and on just hope I'm not on my own.
But for now I'll leave well enough alone.
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