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A sea of waving green and grey
Bows and bends in our path
In warmth and comfort we'll catch disease
One so sweet we'll let it rage

To the unknown holes beneath our feet
We'll cast insecurities
And to the wall of white above
We'll go, looking for the sunrise

I'll bet my frozen toes on love again
You sing me chopped up ballads
And throw material goods into the distance
Because, right now, we're all we need

We're a tangled mess of underfed limbs
Eyes hidden, smiles wide
We've heard the words many times
But there's no place I'd rather be

A failed attempt, dissapointing ending
But I've yet to be let down in you
Your head on my chest, listen to the heartbeats
Your own are toomuch to ignore

Here in this last place untouched by us
In your eyes I see flowers bloom
You touch my lips, the heavens tremble
For you, I'd give anything
Written 5/24/2008
Where to go, where to go?
Through the yellow painted corridors
Contemplating things to come,
                        Or maybe not.
All the dreams of youth are cut short
But still live on in my heart
Beating off rhythm and then on.

Finding reassurance in things that are here,
                        And soon to be gone.
Am I living or just passing through?
In many things I need proof
Although in this I need only truth.

Here I am, here I go,
Passing through to Nevermore.

Acting calm, “All is fine,” I sigh
But in my mind waging war against divine
Red lights flashing to my eyes
                       Then in a blink it’s gone.
I keep it inside, my thoughts it divides
To call me sure would be a lie
Though, to this I will not die.

The billows of apathy surge over me
We have all lived and breathed
                        But how many have seen?
Not many, not too many.
Darkness will blind the eyes
Yet even in the light some need a cane to find their ways.

Here I am, here I go,
                        Passing through to Nevermore.

If I do break these chains what would be next?
Would I sit and wait for signs
                        Or waste away to nothing?
I want out to find my own Emerald City!
I know what I seek and I know defeat
Either would find me with no surprise.

Down the winding path I go
                        Passing through to Nevermore.
 May 2013 Edward Hawthorne
John
God damns you in the sweetest way
With those six inch heels
You're on so much fire
The smoke drifts through the steering wheel
Lit up like the strip
Where we go on nightly field trips
You know what's good for you but you don't care
You're a ******* wild one and I know it
You know how to get things done
And you keep the place jumped up and lit up
With those green, green eyes you light it up

You clearly got no worries
Nothing really gets to you
It's the way you grew up
If you had let it get to you
You would never have made it through

So I condone such mischief
Keep doing you like you do it
I ain't got no complaints
Just make sure you stand before you sit
Taking things too fast is never a good thing
All you know is fast life
Never back down from no fight now
You're just the realest
They're just the weakest
It's the way it goes
Nobody really knows
Where you came from
No, they never even ask
Where you come from
Been listening to a lot of new r&b; lately. So this is the type of stuff that comes out of it.
Little Soldier
open up your eyes
see the bright light
welcome you to life.

Little Soldier
come back home
you will always be loved
when you're with us.

Little Soldier
please don't cry
yes you are young
far too young to die.

Little Soldier
there is no need to cry
we will always walk with you
in the afterlife.
I want a nobody.

A faceless commuter swearing as the machine ignores his credit card. Or the guy two tables to the left who isn’t checking his watch because he isn’t waiting on someone. Any hoodie-wearing, adidas-laced, prospective english major rambling along the sidewalk.

I want a nobody.

‘Cause there’s never a somebody that won’t say “I love you” because it’s numbed by too many mouths that don’t form their lips the right way. The somebodies slide it off their careless tongues—

because little words are pennies in tip jars.

But Nobody, he’ll say

I love the way you put on a jacket
like some kind of whip-snap in the lapels and collar
tipping your chin up and
hooking your silver-ringed thumbs in the pockets

and I love how you flip through books
eager to break the spine but not fold the pages
holding your breath to hold the focus
propping open a paperback between long tapered fingers

and how the barista at the coffeeshop knows your face!
and blush rises like foam on your cheeks

because it’s so ******* incredible how
when you drum your fingers
you don’t drum you press
into a phantom piano
the treble clef of Linus and Lucy
or The Entertainer
or, if your eyes have already gotten deeper
—in a mossy well of thought—
it’ll be Augustana’s Boston
dancing C-E-C-E-G-E-C-E
in the jumping tendons of your right hand.

                  *

oh darling, I’m in love with
your clumsy movements when you fall into bed
wrapping a thick comforter over your bare shoulders
curling your legs as you settle on your side
hair fanned out on the bedsheet because
the pillow’s too close to the wall


but lovely, I don’t love you
because I’m not real at all
this is a strange abomination between poetry and prose. Thought I'd post it here anyway.
Healing requires a passage through a spiral
downward first to plunge the depths of the soul,
then upwards to meet the Self.
Time does not fix or alleviate burdens and weight.
A metaphysical step forward in all dimensions
sets you on the right track.
Forward motion is the key to harmonious change,
not waiting around for minutes and days with a heavy
heart to set you right.
Your head foggy with reversed archetypes hiding in your psyche.
Everyone needs to cry and scream.
Reflections help us understand where we need to reflect these feelings.
Go to the ocean and imagine that is the sum of your emotions.
Now dive in it, don't wait for the perfect moment.
Two and a half years of my life
spent pining, yearning, honing in your memory.
My dreams revitalizing your body but never quite able
to capture your voice.
Two and a half years of self-loathing, because you stopped
speaking to me.
Nightmares and day dreams, engrossed in the past or
the future with you in it, takes up the space meant for the present.
Two and a half years later, and you still treat me like **** but
now you have agreed to see me.
Naturally I was ecstatic, but indifference has knocked on my door
and I'm debating on opening it.
Unrequited love has lost its glamour and its edge.
One sip of your mind used to make me tipsy
but all those nights out on the town
has got me drunk on other men and other worlds
that don't revolve around you.
Two and a half years later, and I could potentially have you,
but what good would that do, if your love could never amount
to the intensity and the longevity of my love for you.
The door is still knocking but I'm shutting the whole world out tonight.
Two and a half years later, and I finally have the strength to overcome
your choke hold and take control of my life.
As I stand beneath the blackened sky,
Horror within the dead of night
Deep below these trembling feet,
Lies a secret bittersweet

Across the lake of fire,
Through deserts of decay
Black out the moon and stars,
Hate ridden is my fate

Embedded by the poison,
Inside my dying veins
I encompass nothing more,
Only solitude and pain

But without this moment,
Without this despair
I would not know love,
I would not breathe air

And so I wander,
Between a leaden life
Seeking my fortune,
Through struggle and strife
Look on with saddened eyes,
like little pools of water,
and the thoughts in his head
are swimming like fish,
beneath the surface,
of his blue eyes.

"Little boy,
you're crying,
please don't be sad,
everything will be okay,
you'll see."
But those words in my ears,
sound hollow,
and insincere.
I know he didn't believe me.
But he won't say anything,
he'll just nod his head and try to not cry.

This little boy,
had an aloof quality,
but yet still when he said something,
it was always important.
He used his words wisely,
he was far older in his view on the world and people,
compared to other children,
he was an extraordinary child,
and the time I spent talking to him
was short.

And then something awful happened,

He had watched his father die,
right before his eyes,
and I watched too,
for I was with him when it happened,
yet I felt strangely detached from his world,
it was like I was not there,
but yet I was.

I saw this little boy,
crawl numbly over to his father,
and I saw him cry,
and he said
the most childish,
heart breaking sentence,
I have ever heard in my life,
"Wake up."
He knew his father was gone,
but that didn't prevent him from trying to pretend
that his father wasn't.

Flash forward many years.

I met the boy again,
just not in the way I had expected,
He was in the hospital,
dying.
He had turned to drugs when I was gone,
and he lost his way,
and I cried.
If I had stayed I could have prevented it,
and he wouldn't be dying.

But that little boy,
who still looked little even though he was much bigger,
his blue eyes looked saddened,
and sparkling with his old wisdom,
he knew it was his time,
and he told me,
"It's my time, don't pretend i'm not gone,"
and then he died.

That's when I woke up.

It was all just a dream,
i'm here in my bed
confused,
who was that boy?
what does my dream mean?
why would I dream of someone I didn't even know?

Now what always haunts me is,
his blue eyes,
that were as deep as the ocean
and as everlasting as the sky.
It is hard to forget,
those sorrowful eyes,
in my dream
of a boy who died too young,
and I don't know what
that could mean.
So I said to him
"I've got my demons"
Two bit termites that eat me away
'Cause I was never a real girl
--would you look at her nose--
Lying *****

And then he points back
Says look at them skeletons
Hanging from the closet
Among button down shirts and sanctioned blazers
But they're made of plastic
Some cheap bio lab representation of what's meant to be human

NO I scream
And my voice bubbles out like tar
Paving over his cracked ideals
Sealing up the sink hole where I buried my heart
--saving it for a rainy day--
And I slam the door in his face
Hoping it hits the ******* nose he stuck in my business

Hounds are scratching at my door
Whining for a chance
To rip apart the rabbit
That's hiding in my head

I stand up and let them
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