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Love is Poison to Logic
The Heart a Murderer of the Mind
Inspired by InkTober 2018 #1: Poisonous
(Companion Illustration on DeviantArt)
Italicization is malfunctioning right now.

Of joy great, you two are my bundle.
You both, I love to kiss and cuddle.
That's the place, where I don't like any hurdle.

Love I do to become your pillow instead;
When, on my tummy, you rest your head.
Enjoy this shortage of space, I actually do, on the bed.

Love, always in the heart, seeks a space.
Around the heart, weaves it, a delicate lace.
Then, inside the heart, it settles, with Ahura's grace.

May our love forever live and thrive.
May it also, through many other hearts, dance n jive.
May it for ever and ever survive.

Aedoon baad.

Lovingly yours

Armin Dutia Motashaw
I’ve constructed my own heaven,
One that I deserve.
Where the glitter’s broken glass
And all the angels; pervs.
Where euphoria is sold
For money by the gram.
Find me no more there on Earth
For this is where I am.

I’ve constructed my own heaven,
Wish that you could see
How much better this is than
The hell they made for me.
Where the demons hang by neckties
Grimacing in mirth.
Where the price of happiness
Is more than what it’s worth.

I’ve constructed my own heaven
With its golden gates,
Where a hedonistic ****
Of the senses waits.
Where the smokey clouds are dense
With fumes that stick to clothes.
I’ve constructed my own heaven
Of sorts, I suppose.
A poem on addiction.
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of *****.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.

Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks,
it seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
and some guy would laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell you, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean.
My fist got hard and my wits got keen.
Roamed from town to town to hide my shame,
but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the ***** tonks and bars and ****
that man that gave me that awful name.

But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had
just hit town and my throat was dry.
I'd thought i'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon in a street of mud
and at a table dealing stud sat the *****,
mangy dog that named me Sue.

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
from a worn-out picture that my mother had
and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old
and I looked at him and my blood ran cold,
and I said, "My name is Sue. How do you do?
Now you're gonna die." Yeah, that's what I told him.

Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down
but to my surprise he came up with a knife
and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair
right across his teeth. And we crashed through
the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging
in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell you I've fought tougher men but I really can't remember when.
He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laughin' and then I heard him cussin',
he went for his gun and I pulled mine first.
He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile.

And he said, "Son, this world is rough and if
a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
and I knew I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So I gave you that name and I said 'Goodbye'.
I knew you'd have to get tough or die. And it's
that name that helped to make you strong."

Yeah, he said, "Now you have just fought one
helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you've
got the right to **** me now and I wouldn't blame you
if you do. But you ought to thank me
before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit
in your eye because I'm the nut that named you Sue."
Yeah, what could I do? What could I do?

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun,
called him pa and he called me a son,
and I came away with a different point of view
and I think about him now and then.
Every time I tried, every time I win and if I
ever have a son I think I am gonna name him
Bill or George - anything but Sue.
 Sep 2018 Jack L Martin
 Sep 2018 Jack L Martin
You've got two stormy eyes
Like those I read in that book
Who would have thought
that I would have found them in you

I know it sounds cheesy
Nothing has even started
but the dizziness and the heat
and the accelerated heartbeat
Are something I can't ignore

For you, it might be nothing
I'm probably playing a movie
right inside my head
But those eyes, I promise
I don't know how to forget about them

I know you never read it
the book that contains your eyes
But it is one of my favorite
for it makes me believe in magic

It makes me feel special
It makes me believe in hope
It makes me look at the world and think
there's so much I have to explore

It makes me think about beauty
about innocence
about life
about friendship and love

it makes me feel alive.

I love feeling that way.

Many people don't realize it
they say it's just a book
but for me it's more
more than simple ink,
more than simple pages,
more than simple prose.

It's been a while since I held it in my hands,
since I looked into it
and felt powerful and brave

But when I see your stormy eyes,
and I swear this has been driving me insane,
I feel like I'm reading it once again.
 Sep 2018 Jack L Martin
Acina Joy
I heard a man say that he loved a girl,
and he waited for 28 years.
He longed for her day and night,
but he never shed a tear.

Several seasons came and go,
and inside him brew a storm.
The longer that they stayed apart,
the stronger he grew forlorn.

Till the day came for his love to come,
but he never saw it coming then,
that she never even loved him back,
and he loved till he never loved again.
Love can be a waiting game sometimes, that grow too long to even bear.
I feel like a puddle in front of a school.
Having children jump in me one after another as they see me on the ground.
But every time you jump in a puddle,
the water disperses..
the puddle gets smaller from the water splashing out.
And oh my,
far too many feet have dipped their toes into the hollows of my being for me to feel functional.
I feel as if I’m shrinking like that puddle in a sense.
Tainted by ***** shoes making permanent alterations to my pre-existing form.
Maybe sometimes there’s no “adaptive responses.”
The only way for the puddle to fill and grow again,
is for more rain to fall.
But there are no clouds in this sky of “me.”
A bit of a ramble, but frankly I don’t know how else to describe the way I’m feeling tonight. Sometimes “nothing” says volumes- but it also is just that... nothing
the x wife calls
tells me the children miss me.
her voice
a mirror of broken glass
fragments falling into
the touch of sadness
in your fingers
the soft laughter
of your eyes like a candle
in the night

twilight comes to play
whispering in my night
quick as life
I hear the sadness
quick as life
I can hear the regret

I 've wounded you

I can only be
what I was
meant to be

I am the candle without the wick

excuse me, I've got to go.
When man,
enters woman,
like the surf biting the shore,
again and again,
and the woman opens her mouth with pleasure
and her teeth gleam
like the alphabet,
Logos appears milking a star,
and the man
inside of woman
ties a knot
so that they will
never again be separate
and the woman
climbs into a flower
and swallows its stem
and Logos appears
and unleashes their rivers.

This man,
this woman
with their double hunger,
have tried to reach through
the curtain of God
and briefly they have,
through God
in His perversity
unties the knot.
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