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I love the time of year, in the town where I  live,
When dark fluffy rainclouds block out the sun,
Raindrops sprinkle down in periodic fits of showers
And the colors of life look more brilliant than ever
It gives me the feeling of living in a fishbowl
The air itself seems to adopt a verdant green hue
Signaling the rainy season is in full swing.
I love you all. Hope you're doing well. God bess your day!
Please Lord, make this anguish cease,
Fill me with Your calming peace,
The type we find throughout Your Word,
I seek the freedom of a bird in mid-flight.
Help me to keep you in my sight, ever following
Your holy light.
Lift this fog from off my mind, there's no telling what
I may find. Inspire me in my life's deeds, from the garden
of my mind, please pluck all the weeds, to keep
my mind focused and clear, I know Your love is always near.
Suddenly the plot sickens… Lurching out of a comatose state, the sudden onset of panic…left with a past that has never passed…was and is always present. At present, past and a past present, both distinctly different from the present prospect of the past degenerating already into a future prospect which will never be. Suffer that. Being prey to anxiety, nostalgia and hope…. to attain from time to time the absolute serenity of a perception of timelessness, a state of lack of perception of time; to fuse together some brief fragments of eternity, we can perceive on this side of life, through a glass darkly. Though eventually will perceive with crystal clarity, in sharp focus. Simulators. Emulators. I keep bumpin’ intae mysel. That’s just the point. Around the bend. It’s not the end. Sons of fear and sorrow, will you cheer tomorrow? Sons of toil and danger, will you serve a stranger? A new beginning, never ending. Still sometimes I feel so low that I want tae “top mysel.” But I will go on. God is ma strength. He is ma Salvation. The only Way, The Truth and The Life. Love. Always was and always will be. HE IS.
Just playing around with words, and the sound of them in particular ways... a bit goofy and experimental, but I had fun just putting it down on paper... hope someone else who loves words & linguistics, syntax and the phonetics of words gets a kick outta it.
 Oct 2016
Kevin Seiler
One hundred and thirteen days since my last sip.
And it only took me one day to finally jump ship.
No matter how long I'm sober, nor how much I drink.
Will ever allow me the clarity to see the way that you think.
So here's to relapse, and the misery inbound.
Because girl I'll never stop you from runnin' around.
 Oct 2016
Justin S Wampler
So many things that I don't want to do
lend me some cash
and maybe a place to crash
because there's so many things
that I don't want to do.

I don't really want to go to work each day
just to sell myself and my time and my name
to gather up money that I just waste anyway
on getting wasted almost every single day.

I don't want to sleep tonight
it's just another poor way
to spend my time
when I could be smoking
or drinking red wine,
I don't want to sleep tonight.
But if I do fall asleep
I don't want to wake up on time.

I don't even want to stand at all
I'll just sit down in the hall
and stare at the walls,
I don't want to move my neck
or cash my ******* paycheck,  
has the **** sun set yet?
It'd be nice in the cool damp nights
if I didn't have to do a thing
I would be quite alright
to lay in the grass and sing.
 Aug 2015
Justin S Wampler
The dawn broke quietly through the last of the night,
and he rose with the sun.
As the morning light shown red and orange on the ceiling
he opened his eyes to the day's first flame.

Scott stirred, feeling the last of his dreams leave him to wake,
and felt a subtle yet prominent throb in the back of his head.
He felt the shape of her body curled into a ball beside him,
and briefly basked in the cumulative warmth they generated.
Turning away from her with a yawn he reached for the bottle
on the end table beside him, fumbling in the dwindling darkness.
The brandy was warm but still undeniably brandy as he brought it
to his lips and bit himself off a good swallow, grimacing.
He stood then, and strode to the window. The orange glow
from the rising sun contracted his irises and expanded his pores.

He felt whole. He was real here. He knew she was real too,
and that knowledge left him deeply satisfied as he turned to
explore her sleeping body with his eyes.


She heard him wake and take a gulp of that foul liquor he drank
twenty-four hours a day, recalling memories of his breath on her
from the night before. It wasn't that she was angry at his appetite
for *****, just sometimes it frightened her. She soulfully believed
he had a brilliant mind and just wished he would use it someway
other than a sponge for liquor. It was pity, she felt bad for him, and
a part of her thought that he knew it, and he fed off of that pity.
With this thought she turned and opened her eyes to the sunshine
pouring through the bay window at the foot of the bed, and saw his silhouette turn and meet her gaze at the same instant. For a moment
they just looked, pondering each other's doubts and certainties in a
way that made everything else in the room seem to fade out of existence.

He was surprised to see her looking at him in the earliest hours of
the day, she tended to enjoy sleeping in so he always considered
these moments of waking his own. Standing before the window,
and the rising sun shining through it, his shadow was cast perfectly
across her body if he were on top of her. At that thought a quiet
stirring of heat and primal instinct passed over his body and mind
and he smiled at her laying in his shadow, letting his eyes roll easily
over the hills and valleys of her naked body, further fanning the flame
in his *****. She smiled back at him and sighed, feeling the heat herself.

She saw him step forward and out of the light, and was briefly blinded
as his shadow moved from between the sun and her still sleep-ridden
eyes. Wincing and shielding her face from the sun with her hand, she
closed her eyes to the light and before she could open them again she felt his touch on her neck and on her outstretched hand as he brought
her face up to meet his. Lips full of static electricity touched her own
with a shock and she jolted, fully awake, and opened her eyes in surprise. When she saw the same expression mirrored on his face they
both laughed heartily into the long silence of the morning, breathing deeply in giant, hitching, breaths. Sighing and regaining his composure
he lay back down beside her and felt her curl up against him, almost
automatically at this point.

He played with her hair and she touched
his chest, feeling his heartbeat in rhythm with hers.

Comfort, she thought.
Comfort can be so dangerous.
Comfort is a double edged sword.

Brandy, he thought.
Brandy can be so delicious.
Brandy... I need to buy more.
 Aug 2015
Mel Little
Ours was a bitter kind of love from the start
Bitten lips ****** around kisses
Handprints bruised onto each other
My fingerprints still rest in your shoulders
My legs still know how to wrap around your hips
My mouth still mumbles the
yes, please, ****, yessss
Even when you're not around
Separated by miles, by time
By mouths who have known other tastes
My fingerprints are on other shoulders now
The pills I swallow are no longer a part of you
And it takes every ******* part of me not to whisper your name into someone else's ears
Ours was a doomed love, wrecked and wretched
But you may still call my body your home
Should you wish
 Aug 2015
Justin S Wampler
You've got a painful grip
on reality, with those
sun-burnt palms from
waiting with arms wide open
for someone to come back to you.

The sky unfolds before
your dry eyes
in layers and miles
of deceit and lies,
as the sun becomes the moon,
smiling borrowed light
down upon you.

Ridiculing your commitment.

Mocking your hallucinating mind
with illusions of grandeur,
and false relief,
in the face of the great grief
you hold so closely
to your heart.

I love you like this.

I love you when the curtains are drawn
and the light pours down around you
like an electrical hurricane.

I love you in the morning dawn
waiting for love to ground you,
while soaring through the pain.
 Jul 2015
Justin S Wampler
This collar
around my neck,
by which you drag me,
has grown ever heavier.

Yet still I choose
to wear it for you.
 Jun 2015
Justin S Wampler
Fire reaching for the rafters, sirens in my ears.
It's burning and spreading, it has been for years.
 Jun 2015
Justin S Wampler
When I'm drunk I always think that I drink too much.

When I'm sober I always drink because I think too much.
 Jun 2015
Justin S Wampler
On the edge of the bed she sat
ripping page after page out of a
yellowing paperback dictionary.

The muted orange glow of the
arc-sodium street lamps outside
of the bedroom window cast her
face in shades of fire, and the sounds
of tearing paper mocked her
in sharp snores of the sleep that
would not greet her weary mind.

Certain words and definitions
would catch her eye in brief
inspiration, but the feeling
was always gone before
the page even hit the floor.

Strips of clothing and shredded
documents littered the carpet and
covered the bed in spiteful layers
of contempt as the scissors she used
to massacre his favorite shirts and
jeans lay open in her lap, still hungry
for more of the revenge she had been
enacting all night long.

Her fingers began to cramp up
and she realized that she was
bleeding from countless paper
cuts covering her knuckles, leaving
macabre fingerprints on the pile
of torn pages from his pocket
dictionary now lying between
her bare feet and painted toes.

Now removed from her trance
by the acute pain and blood
she managed a fleeting glance
at the page still in her palm,
numbered 236-237 and right
on the cusp of the L section
and the M section, she spied
the word that drove her to
this in the first place.

Beneath a darkening crimson droplet read
"love n  1: great and warm affection,"
she sighed, crumpling up the thin
paper and popped it in her mouth as she
began to chew and began to cry.

She chewed and she cried and she chewed
until it was nothing more than a *** of pulp,
tasting faintly of copper and resting sourly on
her tongue, when she swallowed it whole and laid
her throbbing head down on the shredded
pillow, finally able to get some sleep with her
tummy full of love.
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