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 Dec 2015 Jason Howell
Summer
getting lost in towns
i regularly find
myself in.
looking.

for the way the earth stands still
when i am with the people i love.
looking.
for myself in old library books
about the government and God. "Americans... are forever searching for love in forms it never takes, in places it can never be. It must have something to do with the vanished frontier." I am forever searching.
I am forever looking.
i am the vanished frontier.

these are regular routines
of an irregular human
with ambitions
who can barely get on their tippie  toes
to touch them.
there is love in me
and it is in forms
you all can barely fathom.
another poem written at 1 a.m.
Moving here and moving there
Moving a million miles
With eyes red, eyes dead
Tapping a million times.

It's no teleport, no  airplane,
No magical ride
Instead of walking out the doors
In the pixels we confide.

Aimless tip-tap like water drops
Ticking as sound of time
Punching letters, beating keys,
Trying to make a rime.

Lovely surfs, lovely speed,
Not so lovely is sleep,
When the ghost of eyes
Stuck in the mist of lies
Screen to screen takes a leap.

Pixels here, pixels there,
Pixels all around,
Life here, life there,
Real life all gone.
Real life all gone.
 Dec 2015 Jason Howell
AJ
Sue sinful mother,
hate the sin not the sinner,
Jesus bring me up to Eos, the blessed
soul-god of thy confession:
icaremydaughter in burgundy.
Osaphosis, sting! bleed! death! heat!
Heat death? Honey, you just gotta
hold that ****** till he die already.

****! I was broke like James Nemas
on crack, liquor, apple jacks.
**** this nation under god,
a duck swan up and ****** her ****.
A fool is red and silver,
snakey eyes and hands of filth.
Bless thy precious hands of filth.

****, it’s not funny...
is it ever going to be?
The air is thin
And the light is dark.
But the warmth of this moment brightens the room
Transcending beauty this is

We sit
And we allow our minds to run over all that sits in our hearts and eats away at our souls

We sit
We drink the steamy cups of coffee
We allow our taste buds to grasp the flavour of the beans
However, as delight touches our taste buds
We converse
We listen
We see
We sit
Us three

Us three
We are souls that have been lost
We have eyes that tell tales
Tales that are not told in words, but hidden in the way that we watch
And note the world

Us three
I see her heart is on her sleeve
Her mighty, unwavering heart will not be stifled
She may not allow such passion to be withheld from the world
For she is made for His Glory.
She is made to drink from the fountain of youth with no fear
She is made to conquer
And stare down at their meek faces
As they watch her
In awe
In wonder
And in adoration

Us three
We prefer not to stifle that part of ourselves
That part that will be set free
That part that is bashing at the cage, begging, pleading
to be let out
To be
let out into the night
To go into enigmatically

I am nostalgic
For my former self
The girl who never allowed herself to focus on the dark, the girl who believed in flying
The girl who now never believes she will be taken out from captivity
From this dark pit
Oblivion,  
I believe I am there

She interrupts me and puts down the cold caffeine


Us three
She says that I cannot make more mistakes in my life than she has
She tells me that God has a plan, and the pain will soon end
She says that my Destiny will soon unravel from the tight coil
She says that His plan is delicately detailed and outlined in solid black
Like a work of art...

However, the dragon tends to blow his fire at the edges of the delicate page
No matter how small the burn, it makes a change
To the plan
What remains,
Is the art

No matter how much he taints it, my dear, it will still be a work of art
Your Destiny will be fulfilled.
Your heart will be set free

I weep.
I shake.
I gasp for air.
And I always believe in the moments of
Us three.
Surrounded by friends
A welcoming hug lingers
Filled with what ifs
Uncomfortable for some
Warmly welcomed by others
Conversations fueled by
Wine, beer, and martinis
The comfort of acceptance
Non-judgmental reception
Imagining what’s not said
Some thoughts you can read
Others arise unbidden tongue-tied
Accidental truth shared
Sheltered by laughter
We retell our practiced stories
Not noticing the kind
I’ve-heard-it-before looks
Oh to hear the late night summaries
The evenings score card
We sway from oh so silly to
Pugnacious
We may have crossed lines
We never saw and wouldn’t have cared
If we did
This is no time
for sweet potatoes!

No more pre-digested meals,
or mistaking excess for freedom

Let us grind, like *****
teenage tectonic plates
idk couplets
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