Couldn't be more grand!
They "catch your drift"
They understand.

The company of writers
The company of folks
Who "get" your pain
Laugh at your jokes!

They know the need
For being heard
Most people think
Our "play" absurd
And how expression
Can be burred
And inspiration
When it occurs
Can clear the mind
of weeds and burrs
They don't know
The written word.

Through a world
As black as pitch
It's a puzzle
It's a *****
I don't know
I can't say which
Is worse... the scratching...
Or the itch!

But you, my friend
Are part of me
You have my eyes
So you can see
Though we may bicker
And disagree
We are poets

Our mind's are FREE


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/27/2015

We, the children of today
and the adults of tomorrow
will guide this world
enhance and refine it
we, the generation of miracles
will go forth
and destroy the word impossible
the destined ones
who will know all
blessed my god

There's something so sick about
        this emotional capacity

Before breakfast we plant atomic bombs in our neighbors yard
                                                            ­   like bulbs of (glad)iolus
Haven't you noticed how much gardens look like graveyards

My cereal, ceiling, bathroom, and skin
        All say Made in China
This homeland is looking more like that land
Ughhh and you can see the blood in my pink nail polish from that sweat shop girl
It's not supposed to be RED!

ooOooopps did we just learn how to commercialize genocide
I'm wondering when I'll wake up with a barcode
Will it be on my eyelids
             my arms                                           my soul

Maybe God was in the bees
And now
Now there's no more honey, flowers, or trees
  
                       Just time.

My brothers both went to war
It's not Wal-Mart
But it's open 24/7, checkout through Heaven
And I don't think they're coming home

Not without bones implanted in their brains
sharp, jagged, broken ones
That kind that make you uncomfortable with your memories
The one's that make it hard to sleep

Last week I found a dead cat
  A dead bird in the snow
When I turned around the corner, I saw myself

I was lying in the street
          Dead, dead
And I felt nothing

i've reverted back to the days when
i held a permanent position
in between the arms of an
ugly, paisley patterned easy chair.

i played a game of hide and seek--
hiding from feelings, sought only by others
to prove that i had some semblance of humanity
lurking behind my blank eyes.

those days were dark, angry
as they ate me up, gathering every drop
of my existence like a sponge

fast forward: i'm far away and
mom says the chair is gone.
what should have felt like anguish
feels like nothing.

all the feelings are in the chair
like coins hidden in the couch cushions,
gone before we recognized their existence.

i've reverted back to the days when
i held a permanent position
in between the arms of an
ugly, paisley patterned easy chair,

but now the chair is gone
and i am left to soak up the feelings.