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 Apr 2015 Kristo Frost
regina
he held a pack of cigarette.
took the last one of it.
held it securely,
like it's the only precious thing he got.

i took a glance at him,
wondering.
can i be his last cigarette to hush?
 Apr 2015 Kristo Frost
Stu Harley
what message
be sealed with
a happy kiss
that sing
to thy soul
when
this love is
thine
Who am I?
Alive at dawn
when hope is gone
cursed to forget
when the sun has set
a monster
a vampire
a thirsty wolf
in love with fire
Who am I
that cannot breathe
cannot see what needs to be
I want to bleed
it would be nice
to take a flight
into the night
end this life
that can't be mine
Blood & wine
Blood & wine
endless circles
in the bleeding sky
night comes quick
as a razor to skin
I open myself
to see within
to feel the sting
across my skin
self control
slowly sin
deface the temple
I live within
Sanguine satisfaction
for deadly rites
blessed blood moon
be with me tonight
041104~11.41a
fighting impulses, self-searching for meaning and peace.
First the illicit thrill
Becomes routine habit
Run of the mill
Like you're invincible.

Once, your heart beated
Feverish, hesitant,
Now you swagger, unheated,
The cheat can't be cheated.

The check-out girl, Lizzie,
Is trusting and smiling
Then she turns away, busy
And you're suddenly dizzy.

To your pocket inside
Go the chocolate bars -
Though it's undignified
There's a strange kind of pride.

Then - out of the blue,
In front of the world,
One day she asks you....
And what can you do?

...But collapse to your core
Like a worm-eaten apple
Pray to fall through the floor
You are Named, evermore.

Oh - the shame! she's disgusted
You're a thief, you're mistrusted
All that shock and self-loathing
For those moments you lusted.

Poor girl, she won't be aware
That her face and her voice
Will feature forever
As worst memory, lowest nightmare.

You'll be chilled to the bone
And you'll ask yourself "Why?"
Without job, wife or home,
Foolish, guilty, alone?
 Sep 2014 Kristo Frost
Traveler
Once I lived deep in a forest
My bleeding heart turned to stone
I disappeared out in the shadows
A hollow tree I called home

I know what it is to be a hobo
Train to train, same house twice
I know how it feels to beg and borrow
To share my roll with scratchy mice

Once I even tried to phone home
But the number slipped my weary mind
And when I finally did remember
It all seem such a waste of time

Do you know what it's like to be a hobo?
Nobody knows you when you're down
Memories haunt you like a cold wind
I was lost but now I'm found

Now I live upon a mountain
High above the raging sea
Timeless, old but not forgotten
This hobo nature inside of me...
Song lyrics.
I need a vocalist to accompany my guitar.
My son runs, wrapping arms around
my nebulous waist.

"l love you, Mom!"  He squeezes tighter,
as if letting go would be his black hole.

"I love you, too, " I squeeze back, absent mindedly.  (Where is the cream? I need coffee.)

"I love you more!" he breathes, without pause.
He gazes into my eyes,
searching my planets.

"Oh no, that can't be true," I retort.
I forget the coffee, his eyes are starlight.

"I love you to infinity!" he exclaims,
staring harder.

He wants to sail the Milky Way with me.

"Me too," I reply, and remember oxygen tanks.

I'm speaking in light years, and I hope the sound waves will catch up to him.

His face cracks into a million years of forever, before he lets go,
dancing across the universe of our livingroom,
his solar system intact.

At least for now.
A ship sails empty of reason,
captains fear the treasons.
Silent and smooth is how it'll fall
the cabin-boy shall take the bar.

Blood can be found on every street,
both death and life here meet.
Life is a dying mystery,
pray god has blessed your destiny.

Outside the people's empty homes,
fathers, sons, left alone.
Big Brother dominates, he commands.
A billion voices in one hand.

Absence of imagination,
the End of independent thought.
Cities reek of corruption, ******
and the greatest of sins.
They raise and **** in
by the millions
yet only some men
seem to win.

The ocean itself is a burden,
bad dreams require a surgeon.
Twist well open the sails to Rome
if you flee the country, flee alone.

Between the alleys at this mass
the cross's shadow isn't cast.
Those booklets burn easy, use them well,
let vain ideas fry in hell.

Our viscious masters do predict
the fall of  Troika and rise of  Six.
A crew who drains such futile ink
is sure to drown us down the sink.

Save me from the grim Tomorrows
full of hate deceit and sorrows.
Oh, it's not about tyranny,It's human kind.
Justice is neverreally blind.

Glorious eyes
of curve-free posters
used as wallpaper
for the cleanest streets.
Looking up
to their Father
all good citizens
try to weep
the plain and empty tears
the Party demands
them sheep.

Behind the money lies the pain,
into fields fall the rain.
With empty pockets walk the road,
a thousand stories left untold.

I hope one day it could end ,
just by cutting down his head.
They hunt down anyonenot in line,
should we attempt this, is there time ?

Unfathomable ,
his hungry stomach calls for meat;
rotting, green, foul and sweet.
Rank food from the kitchens will be served,
for all the glory
he deserves.
Trapped under the ice,
in nineteen fifty-two.
A marxist society
led by one man,
with hope-filled speeches
but blood on it's hands.
I hate the way you say you care.
I hate the way you smile and stare.
I hate the way you love me so much.
I hate the way you wont let me touch,
you'er heart.

I hate how you brush your teeth.
I hate how you see underneath,
my hate to see my love.
I hate you so much i can scream.
I hate you like i hate ice cream.

I hate when you say i cant love you.
I hate myself for wanting you to.
I hate
I hate
And I hate some more
To see you with him.
I hate myself for loving you more.
i was just told i could never make my love happy because she already love another guy.
Every now and then I drop,
I drop to my knees to pray.
& I ain't playin' either,
it's serious business.
Sometimes, it's for my football team,
or at the end of a long summer day.
But it could be just to say
something after dinner,
to become a lotto winner.
Maybe it's after some clubbing
with my good buddies,
or thinking about
my dear 'ole dead dad...
but there doesn't have to be
really any reason,
I might be happy or sad,
it doesn't matter,
the porcelain god's
always there to listen.
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