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david badgerow Jan 2012
I only write
with a pen,

I call it
Strike.
david badgerow Jan 2012
i cast off pure light in the cellar
i steal kisses and pray
with my tongue sticking out
ask me for a paper favor
& i'll send you a geranium poem
molded in the shape of
a silver swan swooning
i am the sandman's pupil
fighting an epileptic fit
& growling at the governor
i gave my love a cherry
she tells me how it tasted
i gave my love a chicken
now let's start a revolution
david badgerow Jan 2012
i've got to get you out of the sun
because your smile is
making it's way towards my heart
it's wrapping around my head
and i feel dizzy

you are a sunflower,
i will stop to admire your beauty
on my traveler's journey

if i close my eyes
i am alone in a black hole
being eaten by elephants and eels

but when you smile,
oh god you smile
and it's so sweet,
even from so far away

i am burning in
intense white sunlight, but
your silhouette brings water
flowing between rocks and kingdoms
you bring hot shadows of x-ray light
in the twinkle of your eye

i am an ant pushing a cart wheel
in the streets of your mouth
i crawl over your hills, in between
your whirling mountains of grief

i dream of blue skies and freedom
i live in my mind, around paths of
earth and under blue rocks
i can swivel on my heels and
pluck out my eyeballs
throw them in the dirt
but i can feel the sunrise
with my hands

with my hands, i will feel
your undulating valley
and i will pinch
your empire
with a towel wrapped
around my head

my thirst
lives in my cheek
and my tongue

your dress
will dance and
fly in circles
and turn round and round
in my head until i die
in your arms for the night

sweet rest from far, far away.
david badgerow Jan 2012
have you ever
wanted to **** yourself
after writing something great?
or painting something
you'd never be able to explain?
david badgerow Jan 2012
i am trapped in a neon arcade
where machines bump hum and hiss
i am a red-cheeked blond boy
with blue tiled streetlamps
i've been slapped by my aunt
and the burn of my flesh stinks and rises
to meet the acid gas hovering over the city
adrenalin runs into my armpits from my crying eyes
and i will be lost immobile and dumb unless
the longhaired angels descend from their albatross
and sing to me of kindness
i will rust under thriving tree roots and
be the forgotten target of armies
i will burn on the emerald horizon
floating silent over bright blue cloud-brains
i pinched a woman's *** in an arcade once when i was seven.
david badgerow Dec 2011
i stand naked on my front lawn
watching the sun fall into the sea
i have a suitcase full of curse words
and a backpack full of bad ideas
there is a breeze that shakes the bearded tree
and grows chill bumps on my shaking flesh
"Rejoice," he says to me,
"for what is lost is reborn."

"I have kept your soul safe, my son,
hidden here in this walnut tree;
the Devil has only your body,
when you are free of him,
return to me."
david badgerow Dec 2011
not everyone who holds a pen is a writer.
not everyone who rides a horse is a jockey.
not everyone who clips their toenails is a podiatrist.
not everyone who smokes knows the feeling.
not everyone who chokes is a sadist.
not everyone who lies is an actor.
not everyone who wears a moustache is a communist.
not everyone who smiles is the sunlight.
not everyone who tries is a failure.
not everyone who shouts knows the silence.
not everyone who cries knows depression.
not everyone who laughs gets the joke.
not everyone who speaks is a teacher.
not everyone who hears truly listens.
not everyone who died really lived.
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