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dempsey 1d
you said you could manifest your destiny
so i held my breath, made a wish,
woke up in a fervent state
and we rode bikes along the seine, sipped wine,
ate warm bread, i kissed your palms,
you prayed and we were one.
i told the sky i loved you
and you shouted it back from below.

you bought me the pages i filled with your hair,
your eyes, smile, the thunderstorm, the coffee,
you are my religion. i worship at your feet.
i never dreamed about someone else as much as you
except laying in the grass my lips parted
and met only emptiness
your absence was just my personal hell
i plummeted thirty stories, i saw many lifetimes,
and i called your name. you didn’t answer.
an intense thirst for the touch of someone else
my heart throbbed until it slowed and stopped beating
you are my only hope - i submerge beneath you
and so i die, knowing it was all just make-believe.
funny how i write these dumb things about no one in particular. never experienced more than a faint childish kiss. just dreaming. as elliott smith said. climbing hour upon hour through a total bore, with the one i keep where it never fades, in the safety of a pitch black mind, an airless cell that blocks the day. oh well, okay.
dempsey Jun 8
The choice of what to speak of, in a sense
Is difficult, but among so many issues arises one
in my mind.
I brace against the winds of change
so my voice could echo, I ask the world
one question - where has nature gone?
The street is littered with perpetual plastic bones,
boxes of empty things, children’s toys thrown away
as if your personal trash can.
The foot of humanity stomps upon
the broken body of Mother Earth,
as the sea rises, the animals become dust,
the air clogs with smoke, the plants die.
The water from the tap is golden brown,
there is acid on my tongue, my nose burns
and so I die with only the memory of a crumbled earth
going down in flames, one I couldn’t save in my lifetime.
I ask you, could you
make your earth the kind
that beings from across the galaxy,
carrying gifts and welcome words
visit graciously? Or
is it too late to reverse the damage you did
maybe this wandering star with its
once immeasurable worth
now only holds wasteland upon wasteland.
She, being the embodiment of flora and fauna,
buzzing wildlife, lotus ponds and early clouds,
enthralls me, breathes me in
while all I have to offer is a boot
full of dirt, a plant growing inside,
a solitary remembrance of a long-gone era.
Ask me not, nor tell me why
your soles are caked in ash
when you walked through a burning city
and turned your head.
You killed humans you think beneath you
and animals you crave for food,
but you walk the earth as an animal.
Nothing among silence may be heard.
No croak of a bullfrog, rustle of a bear paw,
crickets or cicadas humming their summer song.
No quiet water rushing down a grassy hill,
no brilliant mushroom spotted like a clown.
No picnic under an umbrella playing soothing tunes from the radio
Because there are no flowers to accompany it,
no Fire Lilies or Lady Slippers or Chocolate Cosmos.
No chrysanthemum or lilac or orchid for you to pick and discard.
Your industrial poison choked the atmosphere
your desire for commercial wealth
exterminated and endangered over a million species.
Next time you trace
the chiseled shape of the ripened fruits
on your backyard tree,
Open your eyes and look around.
It’s all gone now.
The force of nature is weakened, the planet is rotting away.
Mankind, born of the earth,
contaminated, abused, destroyed his home,
until someday we will lose it
(you are dust and to dust you shall return.)
wrote this for my english class! i know it's not black lives matter but it's still an important issue to me. im not invalidating that issue either just writing about something that speaks to me im sorry
dempsey May 30
sometimes you can fool someone into thinking you're smart,
just by making something that looks good when you run your eyes over it.
only people who step closer and dig their fingers into it really know you.
ok last one today hahah
dempsey May 30
the train rumbles against my heart
the men at the deli call me honey.
good music, trench coats, a breeze,
blocks of concrete piled up, a
snapshot of her on the wall, records,
this new york is the fat on the skeleton
of a city that has breathed in my hair
since i was born and before. the ghost
of towers, you might ask me where
it all went. i say it stayed inside us.
i have a cutout of bruce lee, **** rug,
a scrap from a magazine, a cadillac,
my soul years for a simpler time.
the children next door play in the rain.
it's not too hard to retain the memory
of something, even if you might not
have known it. ask me who i want to be.
i will tell you that i don't know, i may
never figure it out, but for now
my lover is my city that never sleeps.
dempsey May 30
how can you teach two boys
that they can hold guns
but not hold hands?
how can you tell young girls
that boys can't keep it in their pants
at the sight of a shoulder, a leg
a carefully placed strap
they cannot control themselves?
you tell these kids they'll inherit the earth,
like the meek, but you clog the air
with smoke and gas and **** animals to eat
and give someone power
who tells people to inject bleach.
the world is going crazy, so you
stuff the train cars with people who
are meant to save lives but
get germs on them, so they'll die.
a man dies, and you threaten the lives
of people who protest his death -
beat them, push them down, until their spirit
is broken. well, you can never break our spirit.
you save the people who
why do you feel the need to
have everything your way?  you know,
just like everyone else, you'll die too.
i know this is a very strong poem but i feel like it had to be shared. i could write so much more, only i want it to simply convey the message i am putting out
dempsey May 20
I really like the feeling of a song under my fingers. Although I feel less like an artist than ever, I still wonder how you
can grow flowers when there's no sun
or rain, an ugly shadow. Flowers
bloom anywhere, not people. Some people I guess. It feels as though I'm trapped in an endless expanse of time - as though I am J.S. Bach, composing pieces for his sons to play
effortlessly under their fingers.
Right before I drink coffee I can feel the image in my mind of a thousand uncultivated flowers wasting in the dirt, crying for help but not getting any. Sure, there were men I have loved and love, but there is so much more behind the curtain of humanity
walk through a museum and you will
find elegant beauty surrounding you
the women that have framed history
with their hard work, patience, and ability
to not give a **** about anyone.
I can't seem to find the balance between beauty and talent, I just leap forward blindly into a world I have never seen before and never will see again
afraid, and alone, and bound to be left
with no one but myself.
I long for a feline companion.
i don't know what this is, just random thoughts and musings i guess
dempsey Apr 27
now, as i wander through the streets
littered with the rubble from our broken city
sprinkled with the blood of our fallen people
i wonder where it all went wrong.
before, when we could enjoy simple things
like ice cream, kissing, gazing at stars
feeling a certain kind of breeze on your neck,
feels almost like a fever dream. before it all
went away. before everything fell apart.
i don't know what the future holds.
perhaps the dawn of a new age, a new
kind of world for future generations.
perhaps children will take it and run, use the
struggles they suffered through
as inspiration for their career, their songs
their creativity. why did you let it all go?
they will scream so loud, breaking their mic
they will smash the table to pieces, they
will bite the necks of men so hard they bleed
they will eat sour things and drink poison
study cosmology and the reason behind
our armageddon, they won't give up...
or else, they will. they will surrender to
the bad people. sit down and stay still
and cry themselves to sleep. i hope it
doesn't happen, at least not anytime soon.
now, as i kick through these ruins of our
city, breathe the smoky air, step over the
bodies, i ask the heavens, (no one in
particular, if we're being honest) did we
deserve this? yes, you did, they cry back.
with everything going on now, i think i'm more inspired than usual by the dystopian sort of reality we're living in. our houses have become like fallout shelters, guarding us from the dangerous world outside. it's not as bad as i described though, i just wanted to make it more dramatic haha
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