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Micheal Bevan Sep 2010
I feel your sin licking at my feet,
As they hang idle from the pier,
Swinging in the salty air,
Aching for escape,
Sore from the fear.

"You can run forever,
But no one lasts for long,
Death is at your doorstep,
It counts your every wrong,
Keeping track of every stain,
Of every slight and single sin,
Your account will never change,
It always starts, as it begins."

You wrote me words of love,
That's how it always starts,
Kind eyes and sweeter lips,
Nothing less could break my heart.

You held my hand in yours,
I'll never stop, in this you swore,
But when the world fell down,
Your lasting mark, left on ocean shores.

These things you never said,
Because I couldn't hear,
I'd take it back again,
Just to have you here,
To have you hold me tight,
Never letting go,
To feel the world was right,
Just to simply know,
That this would never change,
Not a moment lost,
That I could stay forever,
Forever, at any cost.

But I know that this is not,
As it should've been,
Where lives have gone out,
Other now go in,
I'm sorry for this now,
I'm weaken since the wake,
Where I hope the ocean currents,
On silken wings, your soul they swiftly take.

To a place of kinder hearts,
And of sweeter lips,
Where who you once had loved,
Had the mind to never slip.

I wish that I could stop,
But your mark is fading still,
I can't replace the feeling,
I lost my very soul, my every will,
To replace the part of me,
That only you could fill.

I wait up every night,
While beside me sleeps my sin,
Waiting up till light,
Wishing that as I end,
You will begin.

But when my body fails my mind,
For the second of the night,
I wake to empty sheets,
In the saddest morning light,
Wishing for the past again,
When every morning I woke the same,
To a face who smiled in turn,
Where I didn't live in wasting shame.

But my every wish is another wasted,
My very soul is solid, jaded,
Any thought is another gone,
My every memory had slowly faded,
Until the ache is a silent hurt,
That plagues me while I sleep,
Until I wake in a frozen sweat,
And my soul, it softly weeps.

Now I sit here by the shore,
Up high on the wooden pier,
Where your last footsteps,
Were washed away by tidal clears,
I wait for time to turn on itself,
And bring back what water took,
But for all the hope I have,
All I do, is wait and look,
As the sun goes down,
The stars come out,
My tears find words,
I scream and shout,
Wish the world away,
If I could turn back time,
To quit each day,
Until again you're mine,
But I know I can't,
And I hurt all the more,
Wishing you'd return,
From ocean shores.
Micheal Bevan Sep 2010
If I were an opened can of pop,
You know what I'd be right now?


Is a horrible thing to be,
Cause you see,
I am up and bubbly fresh,
Now down,
Gloomy doomy death.

I am moss on crack,
Growing out of floor,
Covering the world,
And wanting more.

Cause you see,
When a blind man falls,
I like to laugh,
Because he doesn't know when the ground
Is going to hit him in the face,
And when it does,
He's so surprised
Like "How the hell did you get all the way to my face?"

Then I, come up to him
And say,
"You met it halfway!"

And run like a *****.

But I'm flat,
And that,

Like a straw set in a frosty milkshake,
Set between two starry eyed lovebirds,
And as they are about to indulge in the yumminess
Of the creamy bounty before them,
The eye of the guy,
Catches the sight of the girl,
Who's not sitting in front of him,
Passing on the by,
Catching his eye,
And his girl is soon by his side,
With a look on her face,
That could stop a race,
Dead in it's place,
For the fear of the world coming apart at the seems,
And he, knows, it.

She knows what he thought
When he saw what he saw,
And when he stuttered and sputtered,
She had heard it all,
Just not in so many words,
So much for these lovebirds.

She said what she felt,
He heard every word,
Then she turned and sped out,
He went quickly after,
And every one heard what he tried to shout.
And bursted into tears,
At the humor that was there,
Far less did his attempts,
Even try to fare.

It was told through the day,
From ear to ear,
"You had to be there"
They said with tears.

"But baby wait,
This is too much,
Come on, let's go back,
Our milkshake hasn't even been touched!"

And guess what?
I feel like that straw,
Feeling so lonely,
Nerves getting raw,
Listening to the fight,
Knowing this ain't right,
I should be cold,
But with the heat of lips,
Caught between sweet nothings,
And sweeter sips.

So you see,
What I see?
What I felt?
How it just stood there,
While the milkshake,
It melt.
Leaving it in a puddle,
No one would drink,
And being wasted like that,
Poured down the sink.

Makes you think.
It must be horrible,
To be,
Micheal Bevan Aug 2010
Future fed,
I am past tense,
With pretense of post textual subtext.

But I'm in love with mental reflex,
That rebound and curve in action,
Reaction replicated and reduced,
Redistributed and digested through the nose,
Said then to then be brought down to a new low.

But it's hypocrisy,
And inert,
Like morality in children,
Who celebrate their own centennial,
While 10 children to each their year,
Are snuffed from this earth,
In quite the same fashion as the candles
On Mr.Centennial's cake,
And it's fake,
For he's a diabetic and suffers,
Having already forgot half the people he raised,
Sentimentality wasted on a senior,
Who shook hands with the devil,
And then smacked an angel off its cloud.

It makes me sick,
Such sin began,
Stopped to begin,
Walked thin and ran thick,
Over budget and understocked,
Cut backs on morality,
Cut backs on humanity,
They call this art,
The only proof of evolution,
Is how we slide down the chart.
Micheal Bevan Aug 2010
Echoed without return,
Chilled stillness,
Frozen burn,
Fractured shade,
Subliminal warmth,
Mental unrest,
Flees and fades.
Micheal Bevan Aug 2010

Listening intently,
Echoes on replay,
Listening intently.


Less and less sense,
With each reverberation
As it fades into violent silence.

They're all words.


Spacial relations,
Mental taxations,
Connecting dots,
Listening intently.

I hear fear on the broken tears,
Splashing at your feet.

I hear sadness in your eyes.


I'm surprised,
Backwards compatible future,
Forward functioning fables,
Genius played dumb
And waited tables,
Trying patience
And listening intently.

Micheal Bevan Aug 2010
I felt the world at a finger tip,
It tingled
And radiated,
I am medicated on absence
And excess.

You are the mirror to me,
My existential mess,
Superiority and minority thought.

Superficial and fictitiously bought,
Buyer from the sold,
Silver to the raindrop,
Water to your gold.

It drips
Touched the world at a lark,
Till light fled,
Leaving the dark.

I bid farewell to new,
And hello to you.
Micheal Bevan Aug 2010
Good friend,
You held my hand when I grew weary,
You held my hand when I grew teary,
As I scraped my knee,
And it began to bleed,
You grew nauseous,
I grew cautious,
And only just moved out of the way,
Of the lunch you had today.

That was gross,
Proudly boast,
It was like two feet!
I condescendingly reply,
Yeah...real neat.
(I kind of lie)

But you knew,
Right away,
You saw through,
Without say,
And before I knew what happened,
Pillow in my face, close captioned;
For the hearing impaired,
As I politely tossed you down the stairs,
But you wouldn't dare go,
Without a handful of my hair,
A smile on your face,
You stay in my good grace,
As we stand together in explanation,
To your mother about the breaks and lacerations,
We shocked her,
But not quite as much,
As the nurse,
Or the doctor.

I loved our quarter-dimensional world,
I pray you find this poem in good grace,
And continue to let your crazy mind unfurl.
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