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Nov 2014
I hear taste. It yells flavor at me
I see smells, they tell me secrets
I don't comprehend what I know
I know what I don't
My apathy is active
I swim in air, fly in water
Rain dances in me
When I am tall, I am short
I write heroic poems that never save

When I try to rewrite poems, they never hear the same
The sky pulls me with great force, towards outer-space that is inner-space
This inner-space whirls in a bubble that doesn't pop
In this dimension, pop stars don't pop
They super nova
And become new heroes
I see behind my eyes
With my pen
This tool can dig deeper than depth
Can reach further than space exists
Nothingness is something
But only in the way that it is the only thing that is not
Thus it
Is not present anywhere
If nothing exists, than this poem doesn't
And if this poem doesn't exist
Than a lot of teddy bears died for no reason


And just sense, and then make

And then
Start all over again
Because when you lay in ruins, it is simply an opportunity
To do things differently this time
And create a new poem
Out of the old ones ashes
Feel the tunes of the moment, and absorb them
Let intuition take control

I gulp these vibrations, these airwaves
And let their music
Accompany my drum
Together they prepare me
For the battles to come.
Written by
   Shaun Meehan
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