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( written by friends who know and shared here with their permission)

don't dwell on ****,
the past has passed.
and throw the drugs
down the toilet.

do the things that make
you feel better,
and avoid the things
that make you feel crap.

whatever they are.

eat and drink
things
that make you feel nice,
and be in such places.

know who your friends are
and know how much to load
on them.

force your self
out of bed in
the morning,
go for a walk
enjoy nature.

get a dog.

avoid the news,
and depressing tv.

know
your own routine,
and don't let other people
tell you it is wrong
or feel guilty about it

but also know the line
between what is your own
paranoia and anxieties,
and what is just normal
emotion
and reaction.

be aware of reality,
and how you are
deviating from it.

get over yourself,
and lighten up.

some of it is
indeed physical and psycological,
but much of it
is just ******.

Take as much advice
as can be ,
but it is up
to the individual
to make the decision to change.

as you know.
 Nov 2016
Thomas P Owens Sr
there are no dreams here
they are but fragments of thought
dismissed and abandoned to the wilderness
of our imaginations
to intersect or collide
perhaps hundreds or thousands at a time
to create some kind of patchwork mosaic of
tossed millisecond ideas and flashes of imagery
that have nowhere to go
these are not dreams
a vast wasteland of connected disconnected energy
of the mind

last night we walked together
and discovered our shared love of art
and ghosts
while the world slept
while I slept
I later met you in a book store
where we paged through Vangogh prints
and discussed the peculiarities of  'The Smoking Skull'
I awoke to a beautiful Sun and for a few joyous seconds…thought to
call you

there are no dreams here
 Nov 2016
RW Dennen
A  belated "Hallows Eve" poem
I dare you to read and sleep well tonight
he he he !!!


...Wisp of the willow
waning of sun
Sounding breezes
in "Willow-Wisp-Run"

Sail on the night air,
phantoms will scare
with gathering of night clouds
in darkness of air

Moon on the dark side
as dead leaves fall,
visions of shadows
embracing us all

Phantoms caress us
on a dancing wind
Their breath be of coldness
upon your goose-bumping-skin

Green eyes of burning
night phantoms we see,
your body will shiver
your soul to be free

Night specters in black
in "Willow-Wisp-Run"
like black-widow spiders
and sticky-webs spun

Down the dark basement
a slithering spot moves
enticing phantoms
to eat of its ooze

Death now surrounds you
in thickness air
Flies on the ceiling
and foul smelly air
Blood splashed in crmson
like a phantom's stare

Screeching of night things
hooting of owls,
the sound of these spirits;
the dancing dead,
breath comes in tremors,
feet cannot run
feeling the night air;
wishing the sun

Whispering willow,
waning of sun,
voices of phantoms
in "Willow-Wisp-Run"
 Nov 2016
Kewayne Wadley
A star fell from the sky.
I picked it up dipping it in a bowl of chocolate.
I watched it sink, gasping for breath in a pool of brown.
Buried beneath the sky where no one would find it.
After a moment, I bit into it.
never before have I experienced such a thing.
A star in the palm of my hands.
Decorated in milk chocolate. An extra pound of sugar.
I bit into it filling my mouth with each twinkle, lost in perpetual bliss.
Hershey's alone couldn't afford to taste this **** good, *******.
My tongue drenched in adventure. Covered in melted chocolate.
The misconception that things aren't as close as they seem.
The only thing about it,
I forgot to wipe my mouth from where I hid your heart
 Oct 2016
Third Eye Candy
mending the snow
has now become knitting white
to frost
as lost kingdoms navigate
from their obscurity -
hosting the hours of our doom
to decades of joy and inertia ...
even as you really love someone
on purpose... you forget
someone.

and all
is come undone !
from a kernel of honey
as ever was.
barking madly at false gods, while -
nipping at the heel of
Unhealing wounds...

all  havoc and have at It
where the true wrong
believes You.

a sting of happiness
dashed against the stubborn
fuss of tossed rocks.
the milk of shadow....
clawing at the way you forget
a glowing medallion
of aching wisdom

And henpecked stars  Henpecked.

a clutch of hit squad horseshoes, lucky in the dark.

the blue navel of a certain monotony
that jibes with your Apologies...
and a long Pause

A Lost -
Art
Founding the Church
of a Lost
Cause

and every Wednesday in a Box
of course.

hurrah !
 Oct 2016
Colten Sorrells
.

it's like finding an exciting new disease
that you never knew
you couldn't live without


it becomes your spirituality
after a "spiritual experience"
affecting everything you do

you're on the path to destruction
and you chase things that leave you empty
like impossibilities

you spiral down, down
until you reach the bottom
and there's no one to break your fall

..

after being down for long enough
your anxieties are replaced with apathy
to where up and down look the same

and if you're very lucky, someone may come along and make a huge impact
somewhat restoring your will to live

gratitude turns to love, love to obsession
as they become more valuable to you
than anything else in your existence

...

determined to be enslaved no longer
you cast aside your old, toxic friends
in favor of healthier choices

with a sizeable chunk of your life missing
you are left with a hungry void
that must be filled with something

so you take up a hobby, or several
and feel some contentment, but it don't last
you're trading one addiction for another

....

your demons haven't gone, but
you find you can keep them contained
if you can keep yourself busy

they're too weak to fight, but they will still
try to trick you into submission
by manipulating your dreams

and even with all the will you can muster
you find that you are basically powerless
and your higher power is tired of your ****

...and it will always be a part of you
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