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When the silence takes the stage,
and I am called upon to perform, oh what a fool I shall be.
Dance monkey dance they'll say, and dance I shall.

On all fours I crawl,
your *****.
Leash me up
in a tight collar
speaking for your laughter.

Here it is,
my self respect,
I present it to you,
I give it all, unto you.
For I no longer need it.

It's a small price to pay for this life.
It's a simple token
for the price of a fancy gown,
for the reward of approval... from strangers.
To be able to buy that fancy car
To be the envy of it all.

To be admired...
For this handsome repayment
loss of self worth
seems nothing.

and it is nothing
until late at night
when I stare at my skinny bones
in a large
but empty apartment
with the city's lights
shadows dancing out my regrets on the walls,
reminiscing of the whole person I used to be.
when I was someone you could respect...
someone who could say no
and had control
and didn't live under constant contract
and scrutiny of the monster that is the media.

Late at night,
with a morning soon coming,
a morning filled
with my stripped body
contorting itself
and writhing
for the camera
to please a generation I will never know.
To flaunt materialism
and narcissism
expected to sound sagacious
and preach this deceitful verisimilitude
but teaching the youth
to be broken and hateful-
to live with these quixotic expectations.
and
it
is
disgusting.

Yet here I am.
Stripped,
broken and battered,
pouting my photoshop lips
and limp, sick body
to preach it day after day.

For It was so long ago,
that I was respectable.
perhaps I could better remember those days-
but in this life
with a restriction on ennui
you are not allowed to be anything but
deliriously content
and that is not a problem so long as this bottle doesn't run out,
so long as I keep swallowing these pills,
drowning out the voice
that despises me.

So long as I keep on acting.
 Sep 2013 Johnny Overseas
Lewis
Like a kiss from the earth,
autumn breezes came sweeping across your face
a wisp of a memory taunts you briefly.
it's in the way she held my hand
its how she looked and smiled
but she never said.
what was there to say?
I'd had an hours worth of your company
and it brought down
every
single
wall
I had been reinforcing these past months,
you didn't know better.
and I didn't know how to say it.
Getting thoughts out
 Sep 2013 Johnny Overseas
Lewis
Its always at an impasse
the important questions start asking themselves
you can float along a hundred
thousand
different directions and never face a hard decision
some people are born
dodging every bit of bad luck
but better than that
they are a light
anyone can be seen reflecting off of them
giving whats given
 Sep 2013 Johnny Overseas
Helen
he empties his pockets
at the end of the day
she hates random
pieces of paper
in her washing
cleaning out the lint filter
mumbling to herself
shaking out the snow
of forgotten wishes
from her clean clothes

he can't say

that was the receipt
for the flowers I sent
or the lay by for something
simply fantastic,
regardless of what's spent


so he dutifully empties
his pockets each evening
before leaving
his clothes for cleaning
and then sits silently
holding onto
all of his dreams
from his pocket...
staring at receipts
of his attempt
to please
his woman, his wife
the love of his life

there is no snow
on his clothes
because each night
he remembers
to empty
his pocket
full of dreams
*and hope
My innocence was not for you to take
******* life out like a poisonous bite
Apples rotting like my soul
Never beautiful will I feel again-

Fantasized
Driving off bridges
Popping pills
Sick thoughts clouding
Little girls’ mind

Death I wished upon myself
You turned me into a broken mirror
****** from the shards or glass
No pain shall I feel only a sick sense of the sweet relief

Sickly sweet cooper tones
Sliding down porcelain skin
No love in my hearts home
No love in my brains decomposing shack

****-
Is not amusing
A glimmer of future life ****** out like a dementor
Bye bye childhood
You stole from

Innocent little girl should not defend
For their lives shouldn’t be placed into their hands
Rusty anchors lodge deep inside
A pain never shall be at ease

Hell shall be your only witness
Demons crawl from my soul locking their talons Into what’s left of you
How do you call yourself a man

Bars shall hold you in
If only I could grow some in my mind
Nightmares from those years
Only regressed into teenage tears
Lennon told me Paul was strawberry
George reminded me love trumps lord
Overboard overcome overwrought
Flower child fishtailed dovelike all aboard
Come together
Get yourself together
Soldered together
Like joint dance banners painted to promote teenage ******* to youth
Tied us into our best days ahead of us
Chained to our ***** we swung like gamers
Untied to our integrity
Wrecking wreaking havoc
Ballooned on hubris
Hemorrhaging ego unlocked spewing spite
I respect good works deeds above good intentions
Road paved with broken glass
Don’t respect me when I’m gone
Tell the folks it’s OK to sing along
Let’s spend the night together
Talk all night in the altogether
Rather gather in clover and heather
Happy Ringo’s nest a featherbed
Laying lady laid cunning linguist
‘xplain to me in chiefly straight talk
Who questions whom?
Desire rises up like a tidal wave.
Yearning to reach out to another.
The strong flow washing over me,
And within me.

Pushing out, reaching...
The object of my desire is barely known
Surely you can't warrant such an intense reaction,
So soon, so incomplete.

But it flows, I can't hold it back.
I flow.
Wanting more I drift where the current leads.
Giving into desire, but unable to fulfill it.

Such a waste
All this beautiful passion
All the thrilling things that could be done.
Oh what I would do with this desire.

Every drop wasted
Every morsel untasted
Every ****** act, a ghost to lay to rest
With an inadequate eulogy played by my fingers.
Sorry I have been in a very particular state of being lately, sorry if I am starting to sound ******.
the american dream:
a wistful wanna-be broadway star
dancing dewy-eyed through the streets of
streets
streets of
the street of -
PLANE CRASH
a white picket fence
meatloaf
on the table
in a magazine
the magazine
of a gun
a gun
on the table
locked behind
white picket
white pick
white
picket -
PICKET LINES
how to succeed in business
without entirely lying
american dream
the americans
scream
we want our
american dream
the tv screen
sold us
to walmart
one american dream,
please
american team
all american boys
the boys and girls club of
one nation
under
shallow water
american dream
it is what it seems
americans
dream
dreams
breaking seams
that hold us together
americans dream
americans die
only americans
allowed to dream
only americans
waste it
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