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 Feb 2013 heavy bored
jalalium
John
 Feb 2013 heavy bored
jalalium
John's morning are failed evasions
Life busted him again, shortened vacation
Nights are for him the perfect occasions
To hide from life for a certain duration

John plays hide and seek with people
So their happiness does not find his pain
Because negatives are not good multiples
His sufferance is permanent, any help is in vain

John likes to eat when he remembers
That a full stomach enjoys cigarettes better
He is one of lung cancer's  club members
The mailman recently handed him the letter

John brings cigarette butts in contact with his skin
And presses them to feel, a verb he is usually lacking
He has no fear but the fear of happiness
It is a ghost of very persuasive nastiness

John counts days, sees them running and wishes they flew
Death is imminent, death is around the corner, death is at his pursue
Death, for john is the clue
Does John need rescue?
 Feb 2013 heavy bored
Anne M
Red Eye
 Feb 2013 heavy bored
Anne M
Reality is vanquished
by the utter darkness.
The world is constantly
shifting--a pendulum
swinging across the sky.

But with no evidence,
this phenomenon can't claim you.
It remains obstinately
theoretical and the fugue
triumphs.

Only landing
can prove you ever
took off.
To speak in good taste:
My mouth is full,
but this food is delicious.
Since I prepared the meal,
could you wash the dishes?

It's on the tip of my tongue:
I know what I mean to say,
but consonants and vowels
are hard to place,
so give me some time.
This isn't a race.

It could always be worse:
Yes, it could be,
but spare the neurotic,
because hypotheticals,
are never exotic.

If there's a will,
there's a way:
Excuse the jaded ****,
who puts thought into thought,
and understands the
value of a buck.

But to speak freely,
and to lose my filter,
our differences are
commonplace.
I'm a flower
that withers.

And
at the end of the day,
who am I to say,
that my frustrations
differ from yours,
because we keep all of our truths
locked
behind closed doors.
 Feb 2013 heavy bored
JM
The nothing
 Feb 2013 heavy bored
JM
A breath,
in deep,
Eyes black,
and I smell your amber skin.

Another breath,
I feel your hips
cradle my hands.

Centuries between us,
yet a breath away.

I write these words
but can't feel.
My words ring cold as ******,
no echoes there.
No warmth or weight,
ashes.
A grey frost on ancient soil
as midnight blooms cold.

A breath,
in deep,
Eyes black,
and I smell your powdered skin.

Another breath,
I feel your hips
cradle my hands.

Nothing between us.
A breath away.
The night you let
me know it was
done
you still slept next
to me.
Tell me you didn't
love me
so I can catch you in
a lie.
© Daniel Magner 2013
 Feb 2013 heavy bored
Isaac
C:\USERS\ISAAC >  open  C:\Impulse\Expulse.raw

The dust settles
On the fans and the plans.
Looking like a double "2",
You try to see like one.
See or look.
Or just a look-see.

Laughing at nothing is a common thing for you.
The strangest has come,
The strangest has left.
The strangeness is correct.

Every spring,
Every water,
Every drop has a secret.

They sing to him in the form of river.
He jumps to the bank
To get his money's worth.
It's an organized procedure to him.
He sinks his head in the ground,
In the rocks and in the sound.

A random pattern is heard.
Two, Three, Ten, Five, Twenty.
One Hundred, Thirty-One, Two.
A, G, I, S.
North, East, South, West.
His, My, Her, Them.
Great, Rough, Green, Tan.

Giant mispronounciations and hidden truths.
One more thing,
Don't get lost...



"Sadness for a screen,
Sadness for a screen."
He sells his money for a screen,
To get his money's worth.
Lost files and hidden documents
Not worth the oxide their printed on.

Old memories of times still here
Hidden in words of the past.
One more thing,
It's all on impulse.

Next day he found a .raw.
He walked towards it.

It said,
"Why do you live with frantic?"

He said,
"I live to take the time."

It said,
"Why do you do the things you do?"

He said,
"To me, it's not impulse, it's expulse."

It said,
"Why do you need to get rid of?"

He said,
"The questions people seek."

It said,
"Take me to the sky.{?}"

He said,
"Gladly."

To the sky he went.
And the time he spent
He used to solve the problem.
He saw a new opportunity
To make a new sanitation.

It consisted of three notes.
Two for show and one to go.
The go note did the work
Of tasting the ground for dirt
To get it's money's worth.
It cleaned like Ben one.

And when sanitation was complete,
He went to .raw.

He said,
"The last words are gone."

It said,
"So that means we've won."

He said,
"What should we do?"

It said,
"Wait for the next."
All rights reserved by the Author.
(This is a just spaced version of the original poem, "C:\Impulse\Expulse.raw", to make it easier to read.)
(The original version is here:
http://hellopoetry.com/#!/poem/cimpulseexpulseraw   )
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