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I fall like a little drop in my coffee
drawn like a diffusing smoke in the air
Take away the scent of cigaret off my lunges
I don't want to smell like her

I fall asleep like a little child in my fantasy
Dream when I wake up and not at all asleep
Wake me up, let me see the other side
He might have missed me more than her
I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots;
Her coat is of the tabby kind, with tiger stripes and leopard spots.
All day she sits upon the stair or on the steps or on the mat;
She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun.
And when all the family’s in bed and asleep,
She tucks up her skirts to the basement to creep.
She is deeply concerned with the ways of the mice—
Their behaviour’s not good and their manners not nice;
So when she has got them lined up on the matting,
She teachs them music, crocheting and tatting.

I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots;
Her equal would be hard to find, she likes the warm and sunny spots.
All day she sits beside the hearth or on the bed or on my hat:
She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun.
As she finds that the mice will not ever keep quiet,
She is sure it is due to irregular diet;
And believing that nothing is done without trying,
She sets right to work with her baking and frying.
She makes them a mouse—cake of bread and dried peas,
And a beautiful fry of lean bacon and cheese.

I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots;
The curtain-cord she likes to wind, and tie it into sailor-knots.
She sits upon the window-sill, or anything that’s smooth and flat:
She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun.
She thinks that the cockroaches just need employment
To prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment.
So she’s formed, from that lot of disorderly louts,
A troop of well-disciplined helpful boy-scouts,
With a purpose in life and a good deed to do—
And she’s even created a Beetles’ Tattoo.

So for Old Gumbie Cats let us now give three cheers—
On whom well-ordered households depend, it appears.
"What do you want? . . . ",
She burst out-
In throbbing conflict,
I vomited:
"Sory".
She could never learn
How to alter
Printed scripts.
2015 August 12.
About 28 years ago!
You
You.
Why are you so perfect?

Unobtainable, beautiful, untouchable.

You stand in the sun, and don't realize what you look like to me.

Your smile is brighter than sunshine
your voice music to my ears.

You are perfect

to me.
So I haven't been inspired lately as you can see. This poem was based off of a romance novel I just read. I hope you guys like this.
This is a song that I call
I beat the mountain
And it ends
with I am dead

I beat the mountain yessir
I beat the mountain
Don't just pretend
that it hurts

I beat the mountain dallas
I beat the mountain
I beat the mountain alice
I beat the mountain
I beat the mountain
I beat the mountain

There's a place in this world
Where you can go to climb to heaven
It's in the Himalayan Mountains
in south, east, central asia

It takes a week to walk to the mountain
And one more week to reach the air
And there is no air at the top
And you freeze your face off there
  
And so I walked to the mountain
And I reached higher ev'ry day
And I breathed in the air
And took pictures of the mountain
  
Now that mountain presents a challenge
Says "Don't come near me if you dare"
For I will slay you on this mountain
I have before ; I will again
  
Uh-Oh the challenge of that mountain
The challenge in the air
The challenge of that mountain
The challenge of that mountain
  
And I climbed the mountain
Yes I did, I climbed the mountain
I climbed the mountain
I climbed the mountain
  
You think the sun, when it hits your head
That you're blinded or you're dead
You think the sun, when it hits your head
It warmed your head but, it didn't
  
But I kept climbing, I kept ahead
Going higher and higher, no more air
But there's more mountain, so there
It's all a joke, just on you, not all of humanity
Most people know better and
Stay away from the mountain
It bites off your head
Takes your fingers and toes
And nose from you and leaves you dead
Takes your brain, makes you delirious
Makes you crazy in the brain, I'm serious
So stay away from the mountain

Stay away from the mountain
Stay Away!  Stay away from the mountain
Stay Away!  Stay away from the mountain
Stay Away!  Stay Away, Far Far Away!

Cause I climbed up that mountain
Yes I did, I climbed that majic mountain
Yes I did, I climbed the mountain
I'm full of dread 'cause I am dead
Where are you now Elliot?

Sitting atop the ashes of Oregon

Bathing in golden melancholy
With needles, and woes and angry
pints

Neglecting the linings silver lure
Unfamiliar and unsure of what it really means
To be happy

Concepts are ******

If I could have your way

Grow black moldy moss on my skull six feet below the ground

And leave this decay with a pressing of emotion engrained in circular black plastic like stone

To ring generations calling for comfort, solitude, in apathy

Maybe then I would be complete

Or complete a vision all too real

And join you in the whispers through Portland,
In the tears of Los Angeles,
Drifting subtly through Washington

And finding rest within the cavities of culture and youth

Speaking sweet sorrows as invitation to a dance we are are familiar with

Stepping on every third beat
missing the counts between

I wish I could know you Elliot

The way I wish my peers could know me

Maybe we could convince each other that the logic behind our understandings were in fact
Misunderstandings

That the pain that coincides with hope was meaningless

That a figure drowning in confusion was simply the manipulation of an ancient desire we've created within our ourselves

So for you Elliot I drink
Every sip a tribute to the ones before us

Cut short to bloom a gene as troubled as ours

Where are you now Elliot?

With blood spread across the floor like red silk carefully layed for display
A sheet of innocence tainted by love and abuse and self infliction

Now relevant the way you were the whole time
But never felt

As I feel

Perhaps I'll achieve that sense of enlightenment someday

And join you above the Rockies
So we may sit and sip coffee and continue to observe the aftermath of our destruction

The way we fantasized in life

The way no one had planned but ourselves

Every stroke of the blade as important as the lyric that followed immediately after

Every song a howl for love misrepresented
And poorly executed

But I am not you
Elliot

I have years to endure

Before my thoughts can reach an audience that suits my content

Years to endure

Before soft light drifts from my eyes

and warm lips run cold from deaths tender kiss

I will know you Elliot

In every note plucked upon the strings of her spine

In every contour I traced with my fingertips
Memorizing the curves just in time for her to vanish
Like they all do
Like I will
Someday

And when I see you Elliot

It will not be in happiness
But in struggle
Conversing the reasons behind such drastic action
Regretting each one
But finding a sick sort of comfort in it

I do not know you Elliot

I will not fulfill the yearning to know you or any other the way I've wanted
Not in this life
But for now

This knife will suffice
And that is enough
Alterations will be made to this poem over time

Criticism is welcome
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