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Still it hurts ..
When it gets cold and I'm crawling
On the bed all alone .

Still it hurts ..
When I go through your pictures cherishing
Your laughter and your madness .

Still it hurts ..
When I know the reality , yet I don't stop
My daydreaming of being with you
F-O-R-E-V-E-R .

Still it hurts ..
When I don't know why I can't move on
From your child-like grin !

Still it hurts ..
Because I know nobody can't replace you
And I will love you F-O-R-E-V-E-R !
1991

I realized
We were both born
in rotting soil,
plastic toys fed
by Arabia's oil.
Eyes closed,
ears behest
to broadcasts, we,
could NOT protest.

That was the beginning
of our mass destruction,
but cribs offsides,
we slept soundly,
thanking our stars,
proud to be Americans.

10 years dormant,
the lyrics laid,
enough to stick,
but their irony to fade.
Until grade school,
recess goaded,
as burning buildings
on our side exploded.
The imminent threat preloaded,
in airports we shed shoes,
forever coded.

The broadcast — our center
was the theorem
that planes, oil, and Arabs
risked everyone's freedom.
But when we raised hands,
to ask why, teachers said
hail red, blue,
and especially white.
We forgot our roots,
because the Ellis Island trip
was obviously cancelled.

So we read headlines,
instead of Orwell,
the day 911
called for a police state.
Trusted the government
and ****** Muslims,
the day turbans
meant hijacking planes.
Pledged allegiance
disguised as freedom,
the day war
was declared
on Saddam Insane.

Our flag revealed
a sham feeding flames,
angst-ridden
teenagers
we became.
With raised middle fingers,
instead of hands,
to Green Day lyrics,
**** Amuricans.

Because only idiots
press a red button twice,
when mass destruction is the price.
And only villains
make children orphans,
while victims drown
in New Orleans.
And only gluttons
eat caviar with silver spoons,
tainting forever
a nation's youth.

Entrenched in dunes,
we boarded blind,
to debt,
death, and
jaded minds.
Blamed by perpetrators
in dollars and change,
for a guerrilla war
fought in vain!
Voted Obama,
with Osama slain,
and soldiers withdrawn,
we hoped for change.
PLEASE, we cried,
JUST STOP!
We are CHAINED —
to a bulldozer
that has NO BRAKES!



So the broadcast said recently:
We are losing control
of the Middle East. And
Al-Qaeda is far from weak —
ISIS: THE PHOENIX OF HUMAN GREED,
We just turned off our TV's
and looked up,
the kids who gave up,
thanked Musk — our atlas,
not yet shrugged,
whose vessels of stars
will rocket toward Mars,
from this godforsaken
civilization
built on hate.

And when you tell me, ***,
"We were both born in 1991,"
I can only sigh,
and breath sympathy,
for our dark history.
Thank you Justin for inspiring this poem. I am performing it next Tuesday at Da Poetry Lounge in LA so any feedback is appreciated :)
 Apr 2014 Evan Ponter
Tord
Wi-Fi
 Apr 2014 Evan Ponter
Tord
water
old-fashioned

food
vintage

oxygen
so last year

now
it's all about hunting waves
on stilettos
(T.S.B)
 Feb 2013 Evan Ponter
Nicole
2/20
 Feb 2013 Evan Ponter
Nicole
1 year
365 days
I found an old email chain dated exactly that far back
From today.

For some reason you still manage to creep up into my day
Somehow it still hurts me too.
But in less than an hour it'll be tomorrow
And then the next day as follows.
Eventually ending up at the day that you made up your mind

As much as it hurt,
I can barely remember.
I remember where I was,
How I broke down,
How I cried over you...
But not what you said.

And why my eyes tear up this night I'll never understand.
Or why you did as you did;
Ending it without any explanation.
But that you did.

Yet reading our conversation,
From that day one year ago,
I never would have guessed...
And I didn't.
Pathetic that I think of her still, for it really wasn't much...but my mom asked about her the other day and that brought back some memories that I'd attempted to keep hidden.
Tonight I was going through my emails and I remembered that it auto saves IMs. So I looked and sure enough some of our conversations were still there. I read a few and saw how truly unexpected the end was. And then I noticed the date.
For some reason, knowing that it was exactly one year ago, just made the hurt so much worse.
No reply
Out of tries
I close my eyes

Everything seems to disappear when my eyes close
A place where only I know
What is real, and what can't be reality
A place where I only exist and no one can be mad at me

Through thick and thin, I'd still let you in...
No one knows me like you not even myself
It's like I were a book, and you took me off the shelf

But I hate you, how can I deny..
I can't stand the sight of your absence, why do I even try?

Hope, a funny thing you can't see or touch
But it gives you something a little, not much

— The End —