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Ezra Mar 2016
Our heartbeats thump in stereo
Building up romantic tension
The airwaves are taut, ready to crash
Ready to snap

The speakers get louder
One side overpowers the other
The volume switch doesn't modulate
Our heartbeats grow irregular

We are beating
inexorably
in mono
Ezra Mar 2016
Halcyon days are over, baby
Summer nights whisked away
***** talk got sanitized,
Music box got terrorized,
Never again will we bake plum cake
In the shade

Halcyon days are over, baby
You climbed over the crib walls, big enough
Rock-a-byes grow to trees,
Willows weep as you leave,
Now you make buds burst in the shade
Ezra Mar 2016
Her feet bring her up the stage
Buds burst, willows weep
Lumbar muscles contort the rest into a chair
Bloomingdales bags crumple
Wrists soar and whistle her up
Balloons fly,
And pop
Fingers hammer down like swans on black keys
Nails scratch staccato notes
And tears
  Aug 2015 Ezra
Kenshō
Watch them
Searching amongst a trifling heap!
Bear your watch ~
And gear your gaze,
Realize this dangerous maze.
-
Through the brush,
Along the hills,
Stands a little shack..

An outcast with a knack~

No one could understand this very odd man.
Yet even to reach him on foot or on yak
It would mean you must
Lead away and carve your very own tracks.

Where to go, following the road no one goes?
What to see or to learn, exploring what no one knows?
Speak! unique star of the universe,
Tell your stories of the beautiful adventure,
That only you chose..

You could dance or stand still,
Sit on solid ground or climb a sand hill!

Talk in verse
Or reverse your curse and present your prose
Into a rhythm only you really knowss
        Look, let me stop..
..
                                      ..

I admit, I'm just an ordinary man.
*UPDATE*
~Thanks for everyone's kind comments~
Ezra Apr 2015
Ink
Inkblots cloud the sky
Inkblots murk the clouds
Inkblots envelop words
With their drops of black destruction

An inkblot falls on a painting, a drawing, a writing, and it all drowns up.
Ezra Apr 2015
Even when the world is up-side,
I'm always down for it.
Ezra Apr 2015
The worst place to be on a Saturday evening is without a doubt
The orphanage on Broadway.

You see your friends' charming glares and airy laughs;
But then
You feel the children's wounded gazes and eerie smiles,

And they travel with you
For miles.
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