Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2021
mornings wasted
spit upon blank pages
stop watch for a man who never shows up
every dream is a hopeful chance
to **** him in your sleep

pull a gun in this sleep
if not, then wait for cancer
a colt 44 is a cold kind of dancer

stolen graveyard flowers
life sentence hours
rabid dogs circling high towers

there's a movie inside
an unfixable life
a demon you thought
was just some pretty thing
something young
coming down the elevator
coming like communists made in china

ugly laughter made in china
something young like laughter laughing
a demon you thought
was just some pretty thing
ugly laugher made in china

something young
an unfixable life
hungry as a reaver
disarm for harm
stockpiles piling

buy your cancer,
cheap, chinese, and made of plastic,
made of slave and
made of master
made in china
buy your cancer
like a demon you thought
was just some pretty thing

hungry as a reaver
a seat at a ***** table
150 square feet
one burner hot plate
made of cheat, made of china
made to confiscate and made of hate

mornings wasted
spit upon blank pages
Disorder
Joy Division

I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand
Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?
Lose sensations, spare the insults, leave them for another day
I've got the spirit, lose the feeling
Take the shock away

It's getting faster, moving faster now
It's getting out of hand
On the tenth floor, down the back stairs
It's a no man's land
Lights are flashing, cars are crashing
Getting frequent now
I've got the spirit, lose the feeling
Let it out somehow

What means to you, what means to me
And we will meet again
I'm watching you, I'm watching
Oh I'll take no pity from your friends
Who is right? Who can tell?
And who gives a **** right now?
Until the spirit new sensation takes hold
Then you know
Until the spirit new sensation takes hold
Then you know
Until the spirit new sensation takes hold
Then you know

I've got the spirit
But lose the feeling
I've got the spirit
But lose the feeling
Feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling
july hearne
Written by
july hearne  seattle
(seattle)   
109
     ConnectHook
Please log in to view and add comments on poems