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Kiagen McGinnis Sep 2011
there is still jalapeno under my nails,
                                                            i know because i bite them.


i feel microcosmic
i feel macrocosmic
i feel that the night i knew you were > all the deadend wannabe artists with groomed hair and a knack for saying the wrong things at the right times

the moon was full as a curvy woman's hips
and i sleeplessly felt its caress through the sky the roof my heart
it carried me pieces of you
and they fit

people ask me if i'm madly in love with a smirk
people ask me what happens when it goes wrong
first loves die hard, they say
i don't know what happened to make everyone assume that
love is destined to be a ship lost at sea

my mom raised me to be tenacious
and darling,
                              you know it's true
Kiagen McGinnis Sep 2011
we raced a thunderstorm and we won
drops formed
in
my
hair,
fell in your cup of tea
a little taste of universe to fill your bones
with.
cherish:
the way my eyelashes flutter in the nook of your spine the way moonlight mutters lacy somethings

it
would
be
easy
to

curl up under your eyelashes and never come out.
Kiagen McGinnis Aug 2011
the kid who smoked *** with me every night on my ratty couch
now has Elder slapped in front of his name,  a closet full of suits and matching socks, a two year sentence and a destination
Apostles who make nothing short of six figures
drop holy oil on his head and say words that are supposed to bless and 'set apart'
because now he is not just any kid,
he is a kid who must knock on doors and teach others that they aren't good enough.

from the age of 8 when he was dunked in some water and asked if he would join the army of Christ
like some kind of secret club on the playground
he was told that he would need to save money for this day
i guess the church spends too much money on political campaigns against human rights
to pay for their own missionary costs

here he is 10 years later
too afraid to tell his parents that he believes in God about as much as he believes in the Easter Bunny
because if he did, his mom and dad would be
frowned upon
whispered about
forever made the talk of the neighborhood
can you blame him?
he loves them

i wrap up a copy of Siddhartha in our favorite skate magazine
and leave a note that reads:

                                                 your own happiness is worth fighting for
                                                 best on your adventures
Kiagen McGinnis Aug 2011
because this documentary is sad
because my best friend's street was destroyed in riots
and i missed her call when she rang from Liverpool
fleeing to a safe place
because i haven't bled in a while
in the way that promises you aren't having a baby
and how would i ever raise a little soul
or maybe it means nothing
or maybe it means i have to tell my father
this
poem
is
really
personal
but that's another thing that makes me cry
why do we separate ourselves from each other
?
Kiagen McGinnis Aug 2011
is protection from critical thinking
a safety net: if you don't tell,
i won't tell
it's the heart of security

in a land where babies are being spray-tanned
handed skin cancer and a shiny crown
                                        where the people hand over their ***** for t.v. stations to gleefully shove in their overflowing purse

                                        where the Bible is a buffet you pick and choose from,
fearful that you'll accidentally let something blasphemous touch the rest of your plate

where *** is such a taboo that teachers risk getting fired for even mentioning the word
******
and men learn everything they know about how to treat a woman
from the internet
and high school.
two very unbiased, reliable sources
brimming with respect and wisdom.
          
                       where it's  natural to drink milk from a hormonal, sick cow with a machine ******* at its udders until it dies
but a mother nursing in public is
         disgusting
and all the other ladies avert their eyes so as not to catch a hint of a glimpse of another woman's
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                               *******.

**** politics gangs government rapists religion
its
all
the
same
game

                                 i can;t think of a system that
                                                              is­n;t corrupt

and i think the knotted, gnarly, ancient root of this dying tree
is the idea that


                                                          ­love
                                                            ­      comes
                                                                ­   with
                                                             conditions.
Kiagen McGinnis Jul 2011
when trillions catch up with them
and play-money isn't going to cut it
We don't want anything to change, but we want it fixed!
scream pleading millions who have never seen a silver platter,
let alone had one handed to them
elitists feast upon the stationary

what do you when
the Social Security checks stop rolling
and you can afford your life-saving medicine about as much as you afford your own private island
your eyes carry barrels of worry while the food bank keeps your head above the tsunami
but just barely
you stop sleeping, because what if a wave
comes
in
the
night and snatches it all away?

crying shame doesn't even begin to cover it

this is what you do: not out of want
out of necessity

arch your shoulders, feel the gritty blood pumping still
something they can never cut
is your faith that things will get better before they
end.
Kiagen McGinnis Jul 2011
i swear its juice from those cherries i was eating
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                                           Not
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                  Blood
on the bed.i feel bad when you feel bad about things you shouldn't feel bad about.
with
one of those headaches that creeps
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                                       down
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                   your
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                   neck
into your fingers
i suddenly realize that spreaders of Love are
shot in the head
while the cruelly corrupt plant rows and rows of seeds

what
if
Silence
doesn't work the way they think it does?

sometimes i get caught up in the biggest black magick trick of them all
money is as invisible as the man in the sky who invents freedom of choice and then punishes you if you make the wrong one
playground games for playground minds
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                            sickeningly,
        ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                    it works.

Retaliation! throwing out my makeup / stimulating synapses / loving shamelessly / asking questions / absorbing information /being unreasonable / never apologizing

                                                    ­         Ceasing to Fear because as Lennon said
                                                            ­death is but leaving one train for another.
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