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 Dec 2013 Derek Yohn
Julia
Thinner
 Dec 2013 Derek Yohn
Julia
if only my ribs were an
xylophone for melodies

maybe if I had venus
dimples and a smooth curve

perhaps a space between
thighs for fears to fall through

wishing for a dip
between my hips

food
Memories resurface
And physically hit me
Like a slap in the face.
Invisible bruises are no less agonizing;
Purple flowers blooming in my heart.
 Dec 2013 Derek Yohn
The Noose
You can take your approval
And shove it where the sun don't shine
Weary of running on your hamster wheel of validation waiting to be fed tiny morsels of **** all at irregular intervals, when you see fit
No more waiting anxiously for the faint green light
Or the half arsed thumps up
Before proceeding with any course of action
Who the hell do you think you are?

Please get off your highly horse or I swear I'll shove you off it myself

Treading on egg shells around you everyday  for 8030 days
Today I choose to stomp on them
Repeatedly
Go ahead and blow your lid off
Master of savage rows
See if I care

Remember how 3 years ago you uttered your vile sentiments
What was is it again?
I would never excel in my studies
Those words reverberated in my head in each and every examination I wrote
In my rage and pursuit to prove you wrong
I prevailed

Thank you for lacking belief in me and the negativity I guess
Narcissist assoholic.
 Dec 2013 Derek Yohn
The Noose
The tumultous pull of religion versus the heart
Religion dictates actions sometimes at the forefront and most times in the background
Residuum of beliefs
I was raised in are forever present
You cannot simply  forsake what you know no matter how stifling it is
My faith is paper thin
Like an exterior skin I wore
It is sliding off me
And I lay bare exposing my authentic self

A hybrid
A product of both sides
To truly be free cut me
right in two
Perhaps I will win
this tug of war between two worlds
In the midst of confusion
Both sides pulling me in the opposite directions

Asphyxiating in this  cardboard box of conformity
I was never sold to their ism to begin with
Sick of pretending
Squeezing myself into a jar of good behaviour
A sticker on my forehead
For being an obedient girl

The rigid rules of the little black book are weighing me down
I still believe, I do
The rope....  needs more slack

Faith latches on and never leaves
but
My heart speaks louder.
A bit of a rant.
Nothing has changed, nothing will, not this way.
I am a poor fool, bound to you
And begging, on my knees, for every scrap you toss my way.
Reconnection leads to reinfection,
I am a sad fool,
A mad fool, to risk again, all that I have.
And yet, as you reach out…I am lost,
Clinging to virtual words, dreaming of a world that’s gone,
Trying to glue together something shattered
Wishing for time reversal, praying for a miracle
To salvage my remembrance of a desperate year.
The Pope

I'm a high powered man of the cloth,
when I get *****, I stick my thing in cold chicken broth.
I can't have ***, I can't have ***,
but sometimes I send an anonymous text.
The Vatican should be called The Vatican't,
sorry for this unfortunate rant.
Not sure how much more I can take,
under my robe is a venomous snake.
People all day like to kiss my ring,
when girls kiss it, it starts to spring.
Having no *** is driving me bad,
going crazy and making me mad.
I can't have ***, I can't have ***,
why did god give me this hex.
Slept with a nun in my ******* last night,
it felt so good and she was so tight.
Whenever a girl smiles or starts to flirt,
under my robe, I begin to squirt.
Sometimes when my ***** get blue,
I kneel down at the nearest pew.
I can't have ***, I can't have ***,
this religion is so **** complex.
I get driven around in this bullet proof trough,
I got the only gun that might go off.
Why did I become a catholic priest,
I'd even take a girl, with infection of yeast.
Last night in bed, I decided to sin,
it was time to rip out the firing pin.
I stroked it once, I stroked it twice,
I must say it felt very nice.
Seconds later out shot my *****,
dripping down my body like a slimy worm.
From this day on, I felt like a new man,
I now do it as often as I can.
Tired of having soap on a rope,
******* it, I'm the ******* pope.
No more underwear under my robe,
hard to tell, next time I'll wanna probe.
I can't have ***, I can't have ***,
cause if I do, god won't sign my checks.
 Dec 2013 Derek Yohn
September
"You know what's just as addictive and twice as expensive as a line of coke?"
You slip out of my vision like a fallen credit card.
Your eyes touching my thigh and
your nose a smoke carton's width away from the coffee table
"Two lines of coke."
 Dec 2013 Derek Yohn
Fah
I've swapped:

Blue skies/\Grey Skies
Monsoon Rain/\Drizzle
Island/\Island
Family/\Family

and it makes me tired, but i should not complain, it's a strange kind of beauty.

All this movement....it's something i asked for... but it carries with it a kind of intoxicating nostalgia.

On one hand , it's a most free feeling , the nomadic journey.
One see's with eyes wide open , to the new oldness of a place , and the new oldness of the people who reside there.
You, with cut throat precision come to terms with the fact that,
whilst you have been adventuring, feeling the motions..routine has stood time still...

On the other hand. I yearn for a key to my own front door, where my bags are not packed, and i can invite people over, where i can cook, and clean and maybe fall asleep on the kitchen floor if i feel so inclined.

For there are more gains then losses and i am thankful , for my lesson filled  escapade that is this fictitious life.

  ---

I've been told many things but i have felt a few more.

I - in all my running , nothing has really worked out the way i'd hoped.
But i have become fierce , like a panther.

I stalk the quiet night time hours , i seek the cover of darkness, i want to fly under the radar.

I've been told many things but i have felt a few more.

Don't waste energy talking about something , just do it.
Watchful like a fox, notice the energetic frequencies of actions , of places of emotions , of times , of days.

I've been told many things but i have felt a few more.

People are always warning me ,
you need to remember you were made to have a mortal life.

As if i can escape it.
i've written very little - in a space where usually i would use writing as my funnel to make sense of this strange world...i guess it's all starting to flow now... Swapped Bali for London and another swap in 2 days..
 Dec 2013 Derek Yohn
The Noose
Not much observation is required
To recognise that the only thing epic about her is her sadness
Which she wears well
Like a snug cardigan
Severe disregard for life varied with an intense desire to thrive not just survive
A tragic paradox

Her repetitive nature is aggravating
All who have listened have, absorbedly
Offered advice which she blatantly declined to take
The saga is getting old and tiresome
They tell her to see the light, curse the dark, and the shadows that  hover over her
They expect their words to make all the difference
And she would skip away with a smile and new found appreciation for life and all it has to offer

Riddled with guilt
She feels accountable for the pain inflicted on others by her actions
Harbouring the guilt that eats and never dies
Forever harbouring the guilt

A desperate "poet"
Finding tranquility from linking words
To form sentences, a poem
To express and create some form of art
Seeking ecstasy
Through purging of emotions

A confused little girl
Who is not so little anymore
The years are violently adding up
Though young
The sand through the hour glass is running out
Growth of the self stunted by sickness of the mind
Ricocheting from the remainder of classic teen-angst to the inevitable adult crash

All of the achievements
Do not mean anything if she cannot feel it
Looking at pictures that hang above the fire place
Her teeth indicate she is smiling
Her eyes do not
Vacant
She is not really here
She could be anywhere
Not sure about this one.
 Dec 2013 Derek Yohn
st64
such a cool dude



1. on believing
There are those who scoff at the schoolboy, calling him frivolous and shallow. Yet it was the schoolboy who said "Faith is believing what you know ain't so."



2. on genius
Thousands of geniuses live and die undiscovered-- either by themselves or by others.



3. on bereavement
A man's house burns down. The smoking wreckage represents only a ruined home that was dear through years of use and pleasant associations. By and by, as the days and weeks go on, first he misses this, then that, then the other thing. And when he casts about for it he finds that it was in that house. Always it is an essential-- there was but one of its kind. It cannot be replaced. It was in that house. It is irrevocably lost.... It will be years before the tale of lost essentials is complete, and not till then can he truly know the magnitude of his disaster.



4. on mischief
I see that every man that went in had his pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat--and I see it warn't no perfumery either, not by a long sight.
I smelt sickly eggs by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me, I couldn't stand it.



4. on conscience
I thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on -- s'pose you'd a done right and give Jim up; would you felt better than what you do now? No, says I, I'd feel bad-- I'd feel just the same way I do now.
Well, then, says I, what's the use you learning to do right, when it's troublesome to do right and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same?



5. on superstition
I've always reckoned that looking at the new moon over your left shoulder is one of the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank Bunker done it once, and bragged about it; and in less than two years he got drunk and fell off of the shot tower and spread himself out so that he was just a kind of layer, as you may say; and they slid him edgeways between two barn doors for a coffin, and buried him so, so they say, but I didn't see it. Pap told me. But anyway, it all come of looking at the moon that way, like a fool.



6. on escape
I reckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me and sivilize me and I can't stand it. I been there before.



7. on hypocrisy and religion
We all went to church, about three mile, everybody a-horseback. The men took their guns along, so did Buck, and kept them between their knees or stood them handy against the wall.
The Shepherdson's done the same. It was pretty ornery preaching -- all about brotherly love, and such-like tiresomeness; but everybody said it was a good sermon, and they all talked it over going home, and had such a powerful lot to say about faith, and good works, and free grace, and preforeordestination, and I don't know what all, that it did seem to me to be one of the roughest Sundays I had run across yet.



8. on simplicity
Jim said bees wouldn't sting idiots; but I didn't believe that, because I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't sting me.



9. on humanity
Let us consider that we are all partially insane. It will explain us to each other; it will unriddle many riddles; it will make clear and simple many things which are involved in haunting and harassing difficulties and obscurities now.



10. on army
That's what an army is -- a mob; they don't fight with courage that's born in them, but with courage that's borrowed from their mass, and from their officers.




                                                            ­                                       *by Mark Twain








S T - 16 dec 13
love the boldness of Twain.

not everybody's cuppa.. but hey, see me crying? nah :)






sub-entry: unicorn

a knock at the door
grey figure opens.. very, very tall

1.
slits of tall-eyes concierge perusing hooded-newcomer bearing gift
furtive-eyes in a head over-drilled with equations
the visitor waits and watches
intently catching the distant-tinkling of a child's laughter
peeps round the bend..
twinkling-eyed gramps giving gifts to grand-kids round the tall-tree

2.
silver-hair leads the way slowly up plush carpet-steps, all deep-red
not aware how regal-opulence glares at the hungry-livraison
of ornate wood-patterns etched into the sides of the box
a single hair-strand is the currency to secret-entry
the most unlikely-key stands in the doorway
upon the head of the child, it needs but one length
with tweezers, silver-head places in painstaking-tremors
there's a light-whirring deep inside and click, click, click..
the sides flay open like tiny-wings
and then, it's right there.. it's opening up its secrets
the old man, who waited all his life to see this.. almost has a glimpse
when something happens..

oh my, what is it ? ? ?     (gaping in disbelief)
it's........ the unicorn
oh! you may leave now, thank you
but a swift-stab leaves silver-head spluttering
holding onto his neck as his life-force spurts away, uncontrollable
                                        in violent-spasms
tall-eyes quick-senses an iota amiss within its radar-view
from the running-steps down the muted red-stairs, cy-dog barks
out the front-door, in pursuit of dodger-stealer who drops the flick-knife
into wide road, sudden-bus whacks him down
tall-eyes look down into the eyes of a dying man
(what have I done?  I needed only two minutes more to.....)
now, quick....get away, get away... !


3.
mythical twist as plot thickens
the box lies there, distant-sirens wail
eyes slit, instantly calculating
hot on heels of this reliable lean-machine
cops push the limit and close the corners
a volley of shots and he.. falls
box tumbling to the ground, rolling a bit.. then stops
red-lights flash remotely, like a dream caught in cold-syrup

with one shoulder now missing and half his head on the sidewalk
he hobbles with the gift to the bridge, his sensors pick up the bleat of the ferry
and he manages to...
...........................and throw it in the frozen-lake
its weight breaks the cracked-surface
                and sinks.. slowly.. down
                                  down
                     down
          down
down
                                               d o w n..

there, it rests in peace
till..


one year later, a young boy tests the safety of that frozen-water
stomping feet to keep warm and face clad in half-balaclava
a sight unlike any other meets his eyes.. and..
(when) he stoops to reach for it..
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