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Watch me stand up to the darkness
Their perfect protagonist

As I do, whatever it takes
So we can see the sun again
I'll do, whatever it takes
I'll even disturb our fragile peace


Just, to prove, that I am not like you
We see through different eyes

But, it's true, that I am just like you
The truth I try to hide


They say I'm good, you're bad
Yet we both want peace
But only if it brings us glory

They cheer as I start this pity war
To prove that I am superior
They believe me when I say it's for the sun
But it's just to feed my ego

So I waste all our precious time
I spark this selfish fight


Just, to prove, that I am not like you
We see through different eyes

But, it's true, that I am just like you
The truth they will deny


I, decide, what I want to be right
And I have to prove that it is true

So, I'll waste, the rest of our precious lives
Until they look at me instead of you


Their perfect protagonist
Fighting against darkness

I'll do whatever it takes
I'll even disturb our fragile peace


Just, to prove, that I am not like you
We live two different lives

But, it's true, that I am just like you
The truth will come to light

Would, you prove, while they withhold their praise
That you're better than me

But, it's true, we both fight a pity war
We just wish that we were right
"Hurt people hurt people"
Well maybe that's true

I tried not to do it
But I still hurt you
I entered a dark house,
With the dazzling flame of my lamp.

I entered the lonely living room,
But the lamp got dim.

I entered the rusty kitchen,
Only a few things glimmered by my lamp’s glow.

I entered the haunted bedroom,
Where my lamp betrayed me in the dark.

At the end, I forgot the entrance,
Because the brightness of my darkness
Was way too strong.
I'm Still lost in the dark house
The silly minutes
rage by like a
falling cuckoo clock.
Dilapidated dreams are
bent and burnt like
autumn leaves.

**** the cliches.
Time hurts, like a
gaping wound.
Hold it close, and
value every precious
second.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMbrfKP2H38
Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read from my latest books, Sleep Always Calls, Seedy Town Blues, and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse. They are all available on Amazon. The latest video is of a reading I did at the Clear Lake Public Library.
Love disguised as friendship

                         is

neither friendship nor love.
He has no face
or desire
to face
the large grate

And inside
the wicket of the grate
The little door
to the larger gate

One side named narrow

The door ****'s
apprehensions
twist in the fingertips

The other side
slides to the indifference

The 69 peep holes rock in
scandalization

How does one survive ?

The false prophet goes
door to door
selling sheep skin
diplomas
black as raven's hair

His false fruit
lays fermenting adding
pollution to our despair .

The prophet's basic fault is full of self interests
For gain and grain of easy life
For personal prestige
through others pain and strife

His man-centered words
appeal to the ears that want to be tickled with ear candy

And the results are that truth be forgotten , trampled to dust and thrown away

Beware of the smooth tongue Jacob with
the rough hairy hands
of Esau .
The  number of days remaining is.
107 days left in 2025.
and I have
161 drafts & 26 hidden
not to mention the interfering spontaneously
combustible pokes in the eye,
those wonderful triggerings,,
that invoke the spark of god in every you~man's soul.
such as this one.

means that I have proximate, using
an ancient skill taught in grade skool,
an obelus^
about 1.5 poems per remaining days,
to offload on you unsuspecting addicts,
and if you throw in the
spontoons,
those that
erupt, like a howling burp,
it would be deceptive,
even
perceptive.
receptive.
inceptive.
preceptive.
acc­eptive.
conceptive.
exceptive.
susceptive.

if i did not in
bad conscience
round that itty bitty number up
to a more rounded
filling
two~a~day
vita
supplemental

                                   ­     nml
^
obelus
Divide Math Sign Symbol Obelus Vector
In math, an obelus (÷) is primarily known as the division sign, representing the operation of division, though this use is less common in higher mathematics and often replaced by a slash (/)
Please,

don't let, the starlight,
burn out...their tomorrows.

Don't cast a dou(b)ter
upon navied fires...
cornflower blues,
going up, in trails, of hot smoke,
as they roll, upward,
uselessly.

...For what if I never saw,
another rainbow?

Though they might
tease my nostrils, as they flare,
in anticipation

I can't smell a rainbow's coloring...
golden cardamom,
orange curry powder
or taste its hues, upon my dancing tongue
in a tangy sumac,
or a fresh, green dill.

I can't hear its brilliance,
piercing a hazy, overcast sky...
a crackling light,
too bright to be subdued,
by its silvery cloak.

It splits the sky,
in a luminous sickle.

I can't
hold up a hand,
and feel it arc,
into my palm
a warm, purry kitten,
pushing its coarse fur,
against my ashen skin.

...So, what if I never saw,
another rainbow?

Never sensed them, again
and they became, as fables
in my mind's eye;
akin to snorting unicorns,
or fire-blowing dragons?

I spent my whole life, whimsically
chasing auroras, and perseids
devouring the world,
with my eyes first,
and my heart, afterwards...

and I've still seen
such precious little, of it.

Could I lick the vibrance,
from my beloved's cheek, blindly
and be satisfied,
as he lay stretched,
in the dark, beneath me?

Could I savor the aroma,
as I scent it, on the wind
like a sweet cologne?

...For what if I never saw,
another rainbow?

...Please...
don't let the starlight,
burn out,
their tomorrows,

from my eyes.
I'm not particularly prepared to talk about what this means, or what this means, to me, so I welcome you to make your own interpretation, of it. What are your thoughts?

https://allpoetry.com/Kate-the-Shrew

I cross-post from this account! It's my only other account, no other. If it doesn't include hyphens, it's Ryan. See me for proof

I'm also u/cutthroatqueen on Reddit, formerly u/Mermaidinshade. Come see me and learn what I'm about!
With a coffee steaming hot,
He pours down his caffeinated thoughts...
Notions about love and life—
Cutting the edge like a vegetable knife.
Whistling off the pressure
from this sizzling ***...
He puts down those delicious wedges
on a plate.

A dream, a muse
A crop with an edible seed,
And some seasoning - straight.
A culinary of a different delight.
A similar taste, yet variety in spice

An old radio—
On a modern slab.
Unusual cutlery - a chopstick and a fork.
Like instruments of a chemical lab.

A pan shimmering songs of beatles.
Romeo lyrics with onion in julienne
Tomatoes calling "Hey Jude"
Oil burns them softer...
Till the prelude.

Stressing away the chilli—
With those spicy words,
And with the pinch of longings.
Enhancing the taste—

The south curry is ready
to be served
Tasters in awe...
Asked me the novice.
The know and how—

It was a recipe
Crafted by heart
My journey towards you
Took an appetizing start.
A bullet fired.
Blood spurted.
A man fell.
I cannot tell;
I never saw.
No tears I shed.
Is it a war?

Don’t care.
No condolence
to share.
Reap what you sow,
cater to  below--
sow the wind.

Forgot about it.
Another death, another day.
Not much to say
about this hell called Earth.
How many thousands died today?

Then..

Clicked on the video.
Saw my friend talking
to the dead guy.
He listened; she talked.

I saw flesh and blood.
Two humans.
A normal conversation.
They even agreed.
They were real.

Now we reap the whirlwind.
The conversation is over.
Not much of a poem, but a true story. A friend of mine posted 15 minutes of a conversation she had with Charlie Kirk on tv, from a year or two ago, I think.

In the style of  B.L Costello I think...
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