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 Oct 2014 Liliana Jaworska
13
"And then some,
Food for thought that wouldn’t think,
Working the wrought unto the brink….
Where slaves define a generational plight
A martyr is born out of infamy and blithe.”

——

Rotting, still, in a cancerous shell that knows no health, nor godliness
Ever convincing the pompous mind of the frailty of determination.
A ghost of the day lurking in the shade,
With no deeds worth doing and nothing to bate the erosion of taste.
The asylum of words spurred to life, tongues turned black with hate,
Cheers of death and laughter that bled followed suit.
Lethargy arose with a grimace and swiftly overcame perseverance.
Metaphors broke at the sight of trepidation, A byproduct that shouldn’t have had side effects.
Incompetence was not gained, but found in the core.
At the center of immaturity, locked in the doldrums of nothing important
A million excuses were made not to write this.
Posted on March 25, 2014
 Oct 2014 Liliana Jaworska
13
This is a rant, a whine, a lackadaisical, lackluster, lamentable account of the mind’s log.
Past the brick wall of restraint, beyond the fields of tolerance, on the banks of instinct and affection, it erases itself every 2 weeks.
Rewrites memories and feelings as fickle as capricious rain.
Makes people sad, makes people happy. Leaves them unsatisfied, unwanted. Makes them whole.
Here, where troubles are also accounted for, heartbreaks, trials, emotional noise, psychological inconsistencies, all live under one roof. Imagine a chain reaction inside your head that won’t stop exploding.
Beautiful yet devastating.
But depression is the worst. Like a virus it infects all moods and modes.
Coax and calm are pins and needles. Persuasion is desertion and truths are lies.
Liberality becomes morbid and grim, while conservation craves death.
Breaking continuity for a moment of weakness, purging will and doubting strength.
Cling to the vines, their hands keep you afloat.
Above the sea of screams and cries the mind inflicts upon itself.
The damnation, the lunacy of being alone in your head when everything inside you is falling apart is worse than any prison.
Friends become enemies and goals become shackles.
Up is a little to the left of center’s right and down is where you are.
Welcome to capsized reality, where pain is exalted and peace is taboo.
Where the hands don’t reach to save but drown.
Then you know it is time to restart, until the system fails again.
Till the next time the levee breaks.
Posted on April 16, 2014
 Oct 2014 Liliana Jaworska
13
There is nothing at the end of the rope.
Only darkness below the smell of rising disgust.
Impassively lingering in the cheap caricature of the comical impasse.
Big words yield big emotions.

The wine launders tilted sinuses with spurious empathy
While distractions become anxious attractions.
Dull is the blade that slits the wrong end of the vein.

Trying to try is commendable by failure and loathing.
Living in denial will bear sweeter fruits…. Still,

A broken man’s death is something to forget.
Posted on May 3, 2014
The river of consciousness
Flows tranquil, in me
From the mind it starts the journey
Navigating everyday obstacles
Washing away everyday doubts
Keeping the heart replenished
Along the course of the soul
Enhancing all the senses
Awareness knows no bounds
Beyond the realm of seen
At the end of the day
When I am tired
Of the routine
I dive into the river of consciousness
Washing away the today
To start a new day
With new questions
To search for new answers
Every day I am empty
Ready to drink
From the river of consciousness
New realization
Of greater prospects
New consciousness
Emanates from the core
No limitations
In the source of consciousness
 Oct 2014 Liliana Jaworska
Tupelo
The whole room got up to dance,
all head shakes and hip swings
this music got me all filled up
each note a cry out for someone
they done made the leaves change
autumn jazz be the most beautiful of colors
quick write
 Oct 2014 Liliana Jaworska
Tupelo
Send a postcard,
Don't forget where we left off
The nights under the pier,
Tides that crept up our ankles,
kissed the sand we loved so dearly,
I wish you were here,
The sun doesn't set the same
 Oct 2014 Liliana Jaworska
Tupelo
We always reached for the mountains
All the roses were the color blue
The ocean tasted of honey
We were invincible
Never afraid of the monsters
that lurked just behind the corner
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