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 Aug 2014 bobby burns
Pen Lux
Hello? Poetry?
Where are you?
Last time I checked
you were inside of me.
Last time I turned around
you were my shadow, still
basking in the light.
Above me and below me,
the only one who knew me.
It seems we've lost touch.
Looking back it's still a familiar feeling.
Again, here I am.
Wondering where you are.
Wondering if I ever really had you
or if it was just you who had me,
without holding, just bursting out.
I can't forget you, won't regret you
or the time left over since I knew I
would see you. Face to face. I know
now that it was just another phase.
No time should be erased. Simply
move on, it's not a race, it's not  a
crime to try different things. Just
now, I knew, the moving through
only gets you beyond. Avoiding
the judgment that so arrogantly
plays, forward, we're pushing
forward to a new place. Hello,
poetry?
Hello!
We're getting close.
 Aug 2014 bobby burns
Jeremy Duff
It was one of those days
when the sun was like,
"I'm gonna be real hot today....extra hot"

I saw some birds fly underneath a truck.
by their banter,
I could tell they were excited;
"Ah dude, this shade's sick"
"Yeah dude. This shade's tweet"
And it's crazy cause those
blaring days sometimes turned
into vicious attacks by fanatical
rains. They always wanted my face.
The drowning plants under my
Econoline shoes place their infants
on my laces. I'm afraid to open the door
because of the black widow near the
doorbell.

I once broke one.
 Jul 2014 bobby burns
BB Tyler
here
in between the day-dream filaments
and textured passings of seconds
the immovable you, shining  
a rendezvous for blinking thoughts
and shadow-bubbles of sensation
slow-floating filters
shifting by

a curtained room
the weaving of sheets
a meeting unattended
and waiting
you were there all along

when light is bended
it changes color,
when it breaks it becomes them all.
it's all right to stay unmended,
embrace your weight
than let it fall.
not sure how this goes... but it went.
it went south and bent my knee and troubled glum
the fuchsia ringlets of my armoured pollywogs.  
my unkissed toad. my croaking need.
it kept no secret sacred.

we are long gone. and more long writhing in vinegar and damp spruce.
we juice the dessicated fruits of our laborious orchards.
and chant useless news at light speed
to hasten darkness. to clip wings.
we jeer at the summer of our lush coins. we spend time
but gain none. and such is our abattoir.
our fatted calf, gasping in the gears of our industry -
choking on the floral arrangement
of our daffy deal.

all metaphors are five fingered. lesser hands are not god's.
joy stumbles in the ruin of our naked ambition -
as hell abides. we sum the minus signs and add zero.

at odds.
 Jun 2014 bobby burns
Jeremy Duff
Alcohol, marijuana, and opiates just weren't enough,
I had to breathe deeply and slowly and snort some white dust.
Boy, that did it; rubbed clean my brain, got rid of that rust.
Cause it's get high or bust
and alcohol, marijuana, and opiates just weren't enough.

Now I'm wondering what's left;
a broken promise or three,
I'm sorry I didn't mean it,
but I meant it at the time.
I'm trying my best but I really need some rest.
 Apr 2014 bobby burns
BB Tyler
how willingly we wish to fill the emptiness

how impulsively we seek to shape and mask
the space pervading

...

There is
to my being an aspect,
which in its witness
eats but does not cook,
reads but owns no books,
sees but does not look.

...

there is no coming and going in the void
jerry's voice weaves a net
to catch my drunken skin,
sagging and dancing against
his cherry pie voice
warm and sweet in the dark of
the 7:17 dawn,
sun still sleeping behind a tall mountain range.

it makes me ache for open hearted
companions
barefeet wet from dew and black from distance
fearless,
unapologetic as they scream their throats out
raw splattering on the gasping earth from
the heaven high rooftops.

flowers poked through the pores
of ocean flavored skin,
peeling from laying too long
in the morning-faced
sun.

i wonder why people feel
so ancient, when their skin is still so young.
we've built this generation in the
imprisonment of fear,
the shrill avoidance of beauty,
we've forgotten what it feels to be living
free and loving
true,
and that's why you see so many young bones
crumble when their lives have just
begun.
watch the fire flash in my eyes
like
razorblades bearing down on metal
scratching off
silver skin.

the rolling of my naked hips brings more
than just
dynamite lust,
it brings a dragon alive in men,
whispering,
shredding,
screaming,
fire-breathing dragon warriors
ready to fight the wars waging
on my
glowing skin,
eager to be called the winner of my limbs.

with tornadoes in my fingernails
as i scratch their backs,
bringing earthly disasters in my
ethereal touch
as i sweat on top of them
with their hands wrapped like curling vines
around my dancing waist.

look into my eyes and you'll see
the sugar cane in my irises
the pleasure waiting,
the juice waiting to crunch like bones
and run through your teeth
if i only hand you the key.

normal girls wont kiss you
like i will,
and that's why when men look,
they see my curves like a gift from heaven
they want to hear what i have to say,
and at the same time devour me.
be confident.
you are wanted,
you are beautiful.
believe in it.
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