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 Mar 2011
Bryar Trent
Walking, always walking,
Puzzled youth being funneled like cattle,
Seek shelter from the sun,
Jeer and poke at each other,
All from the safety of their cell phones.

Constantly seeking that one undesired retention
Of jukebox explosion catapults.
Thrusting us deeper into the mind/brain paradox
What is this?
What are these strange mutterings in the dark?

Babysitting wasp nests by electro shock railroads,
Disgust in the face of the many.
Where is this golden eclipse we’re all waiting for?
How can I not see the spiders on my windowsill?
Are these anguished, infantile youth truly desired?

Aggravated Neanderthal men
Try to impress pulsating goddesses of Light,
All to no prevail.
Sickening feeling in the gut,
Why aren’t you here?
Well I suppose,
Things have changed.

The Empress of the tunnel
Seeks out the empire halls
Of the tunnel-bound angst,
Musicians in the hall strumming
There thoughtless musings,
While the the debutantes watch and listen.
The intensity is unbearable to them,
They must seek shelter in their ipods.

Milk, must have it.
Watching them creep through the cafe,
May they one day find what they’re seeking.
Where are they?
Sitting here by myself,
Look at them jeering at each other
In their own jargons.
Have they seeked out the pleasure of life?



Dream-like meditations,
Well-rounded views of life,
Happiness within.
Dumbly smile at each other,
Seeking closeness,
Mind/body consciousness
copyright 2010 Bryar Trent
 Mar 2011
Bryar Trent
Late nights spent in the depths of the Gita,
Self realization nipping at my boot heals.
Reading the lines of a gone, but not forgotten,
Gay poet, shedding a tear to his epitaph.
Death always sinks its teeth in deep,
Deep into the bowels of the subconscious,
Twisting and writhing through long
Dead emotions, finally expiring its final breath
Through the sinus cavity and out the eyes.

Breakfast is no longer held in the morning,
But far beyond dawn’s reach in the late afternoon,
Much needed sleep is pushed off until
The last minute.
God bless procrastination.
God bless my body, soul, consciousness,
And mind.
God bless those ravaged by war and hate.
Trailing after sunset for that one great fix,
No escape for the ones within its grasp.

Naked we lay in bed,
Until the noon sun kisses our cheeks.
Naked we lay in our hearts, bodies,
Souls, and spirits.
Naked is the man who looks himself in the mirror,
Only to find a corpse in the hollowed eyes that
Sleep deprivation has left him.

Overheated and lost in ill-repaired pipes
At midnight,
Loneliness creeps in like a spy to my senses.
The great manifesto has seeped its way into my brain
And retired in the retinas of self-loathing.

Unforgiving poisons course through the veins.
Strobe lights dim the senses,
People in slow movements of black and white.
Paying our debt,
Debt that is owed to our maker
From the dawn of time to the ravaged streets
Of a morally degraded and ignorant,
Politically correct World.



Dance with me tonight.
Dance in the streets with joy and madness.
Dance with tumorous disease.
Dance with the *****'s cry.
Dance with the sodomite’s urge.
Dance with the looming shadows.
Dance with the bigots and the profiteers.
Dance with me, because we are free.
Copyright 2011 Bryar Trent
 Oct 2010
NZ
Last week...
You told me a
story. That is
a story that
made me
think again.
At that moment
I could only
turn around
so I walked away
my love.
 Oct 2010
NZ
Time, time, time
I'm sick of time lets
run around for the
fun it. I'm sick of
hearing "We have no
time." What would
people do with nothing
to tell time with? "Tell
Me!"
 Oct 2010
NZ
One day after school
on the way home I saw
"Egypt" over the months
my friends and I made
Egypt better. One day
we lost Egypt forever.
And that was the end
of our  fun with Egypt,
but then we became
Gypsies.
 Oct 2010
NZ
Who am I? Am I the girl
you knew since
kindergarden? Or the
girl next door? Or the
girl that knows all? Or
the girl that reads all the
time? Or that girl that is
playing a guitar all the
time? Who am I? Do you
know?
 Oct 2010
NZ
The truth, it an ugly
thing. It runs around,
keeping the truth away
from you. You can never
get to it no matter what.
Slowly it drives you
insane you can't stop
thinking about. What
is it holding... Then one
day the truth is yours
and it only makes
your life worse.
Because I had learned
the truth...

The truth is ugly.
 Oct 2010
NZ
Our story is story
that is everlasting
story that will last
forever. Our love
is a love that will
never end. We are
like the ying and
yang of love. My
love.
 Oct 2010
NZ
May 1999, on my way to school on day I saw you I wanted to be with you. On the way home, I saw you again. I saw you most days.

    By June, I realised you went to our school. I felt like I knew you, but I'd never talked to you.

     In September, you were in my class. I flet a rush of hope that I finally talk to you.

      In October, I did finally talk to you. Because of a science project. Your name was Mike and you were a wiz in class.

      By January 2000, we were good friends and did a lot of projects toghther.

       At the end of June, I had changed schools. I realised that I can't live without you.
 Oct 2010
NZ
In first grade, I learned the turth. And to make it worse I had no friends to share it with because a secret because a secret is not for 1 and not for 3 it only is for 2.

In second grade, I meet ME a girl like me. I think that life could not better but then...

In third grade, I learn that life is not for fun for poeple like me, and ME...

In forth grade, I learn to love my life to its fullest...


In fifth grade, life is as great as it can be for poeple like me and ME...




                                                             SO I LIVE LIFE TO ITS FULLEST !!!!!!!
 Oct 2010
NZ
Love is a dance
that is danced
untill the lovers
can't love anymore.

— The End —