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She whispers my name
but I can hear her
clear as day
I turn
and she's there
she smiles and laughs
and tilts her head
just so
And together we close the distance between us
and my mind sighs
and she sighs
as I run my fingers through her hair
just so
and the moment is perfection
and it is just as I dream
as I dream
I dream
and my eyes drift open
and I sleep
Kids with guns
playing hostage outside
my kitchen window
trapping their sister in the chicken coop
behind the tenement house

Kids with funds
riding scholarships to Harvard
saying someday I’ll be the one
who pushes that little red button

Kids with needles
saying at the end of all this
I will wine and dine the devil
to persist my own mess
they go off so silently

we all turn to memory
and fade to the black flickering
insides of eyelids and run out film reels
the bottom of oceans and the bedrock of glaciers
the whole earth will hum for half a second
before the next bang hits
 Dec 2012 bobby burns
Pen Lux
buried my love in brittle
bones that wanted exactly what I did.
told my love of the mistakes that consumed
in the blinding rays of rage in which I find myself trapped in.
wanted my love alone so that I could share it
but love that is alone doesn't want to wake up.
spilled out experience
to prove to myself that I could make progress.
spilled out my soul
choked through the heart in my throat
maybe if I could get a good look at what's inside this beating breast
then maybe I could count my breath and remember to inhale
and exhale in each moment.
be conscious of my actions, let my spot lights shine so bright they break,
so that the walls I so carefully built
decay
with the new life
I create.
 Dec 2012 bobby burns
Emily D
Back, in years long gone
still plays a broken waltz
Three steps through a pitch black room
and back.
Gently, we moved through the heat 
and the dark, heavy air was sweet with our breath
and purple with our touch

Tick tock tick
the dance is new.
It beats around the room
and we can't keep up
with the rhythm
that refuses to be learned.
It shivers and shakes
we cannot help but sway, stumble
we break away.

Purple, deep and haunting
wraps us in a soft embrace
as we wander, alone,
through forgotten days
and back

When lilac perfume crept between us
there was comfort in the thick scent of summer
but even that, like a half-remembered sun
could not pierce this dark

Now, as the rain scrolls by the window
and the fading light trembles,
three small flowers in a vase
nod to a half-forgotten tune.
Muffled, it plays on,
an echo in the shadow
of a clock long gone
and I remember the smell of lilacs
a waltz
and dancing in a pitch black room
From a prompt: "Dancing, a pitch black room and the smell of lilacs"
stickysummer i remember fingers in you
were (golden brown too warm almost
slick with shade and trees where
curling youths (uncurled) pulled
out smelling like the ocean when the
tide has gone way out and) your grip
went around my wrist to your mouth
and without a thinking
drank from them

       blood
Never, NEVER, walk into your kitchen hallucinating.  
Seeing things beyond being,
things beyond believing,
that defy common meaning.

I was so high my bed should've been traced in chalk,
And I heard each object in my the kitchen begin to talk.

I heard a rumble downstairs so that's where I toured,
I heard voices raised in my cutlery drawers!
I pulled on the ****,
dropped off my jaw.
In sheer surprise of what my eyes had seen inside.

I must be insane, in this tale it's confirmed.
Because it was perfect English each word that I heard.

The knife spoke up first he said
"I'm the sharpest!
I stab, cut or divide each one of my targets.
You can hold me by the handle and feel safe at that end,
but my nasty side has seen your enemies and your friends.
I've helped men to rise and with that seen men fall,
But it's my job to cause damage so I dismiss it all.
Who am I to try to define my own purpose?
When the edge I've been given is always ready for service.  
I've cut through flora and flesh all my life.
It's what I'm made to do,
and you can ask any of the others if it's true."

"It is true,"
Said the fork
"destruction is all he's been through,
and between us two
most men bite off more than they can chew.
And I don't mean just food.
I've seen it all.
I've seen the trees of greed
grow tall from hates seed.
Need be, I stab like the blade
but I'm a different shade,
of this please have no doubt.
I'm about filling voids of need
helping humans to feed
getting the food from the table to mouth.
So I just move in and out trying to avoid most of the gloom,
you want to hear of misery then you should talk to the spoon."

"I'm such a well rounded fellow!"
The spoon then declared.
"So it seems so unfair
that I've witnessed such despair.  
I'm deeper than the circles in eyes of my admirers,
who fill me up with drugs and then throw me over fires.
They're arms wrapped with wires, I work daily with the syringe,
and this is never something casual but always on a binge.
It leaves me burnt and abused,
a path I would never choose.
But, I suppose that's why they call those who burn me users,
honestly it's a string of good men turned to losers.  
So here you see us lay, the tools for mans feed.
How some men we never see occupied with others greed.
So take heed to these words: The enemy is your own kind.
We simply serve to put things inside the mouths grind.
So no longer stay blind, speak up with your voice,
tell the world how we're slaves we perform without choice!"

So... I screamed out "You know what spoon? I WILL!"
And I know its crazy, my mind is insane - utterly.
But, I made a promise that night, to that cutlery.
So here I am a man of ...arguably sound mind,
asking for some of your ...arguably valuable time.
To listen to the woes of those treated unfair,
who's use is in constant but recognitions are rare.
So try to realize in your minds if you dare,
that we don't know as much about life as **our own silverware.
The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence.
What could such glory be
if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.
 Dec 2012 bobby burns
j Lauren
When two different
states
               of
                       reality
collidewiththeinitialstateofreality
creating some sort of
strange i m a g i n a t i o n
imitations|snoitatimi
and, of course,
more infatuations with what isn't than
what is.
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