I have two arms, right?
See em? Don't?
Too bad. But you assume I do anyways, because most people do.
And then there was Eddie, who had one arm.
He ran from his troubles so that he could evade the police. On their search for Eddie, scratch that hold on Eddie was a she, she liked being called that.
It made her happy. Anyways, she ran and ran, and then she found a bar+inn she could hide out in.
She ordered a cup of whisky, and being the good girl she was, she didn't drink it. She left it out for cops to find and they drunk it instead, one keeling over. Success!
She ran away from more of the police for two years before moving to Texas under a new name, Ashley. So Ashley
laid low and had wine daily. She got someone pregnant and got in even more trouble.
Now you might be wondering "how did she get someone pregnant?" and I tell you this: She had a ****. Most girls don't, but as far as she was concerned, that didn't matter. She was a good girlfriend. Her eyes were more easily compared to ????! Forget that metaphor. She could run, really, really fast. People in her
vicinity ran because they thought she was odd. and she was. but not in a bad way.
to her, everyone else was odd. oddity is a confusing thing because it dances by itself at a party, leaving normalcy as the wallflowers. NOT TO SAY she was a wallflower.
ashley was outgoing. she danced, she broke her hip, she grew her hair out cut it off then grew it out again because the army wouldn't accept a ****-having girl.
Shortly she realized the army was unnecessary so she simply danced to the sound of oddities for the rest of her life.
No one bought her a drink, but she had dough so it didn't matter.
Texas was hot and she considered herself hotter. Whether or not that's an oddity is your decision.

I'm back from an unannounced hiatus. I will be using this site much more now.

It was November, dry and crisp
The priest kept talking with his lisp
The funeral home deserved itself
As pictures of it were on the shelf

Someone kept munching on some chips
Avoiding his teeth, ******* the juice out with his lips
So not to make a noise, keep it a bore
He knew he'd get evil eyes at the dollar store

Everyone was dressed in black,
The bratty kid, the mom, and Jack
The latter man still eating the chips
All Jack could think of is where was the dip

No one was really sobbing, barely a sniffle
Old time's sake was nothing but stifled
No air conditioning, no fan turned on
Jack looked at the fan, seeming fond

T'was a bore.
No one missed her.

You  must hail Beryl Dov as our lord and savior.

I've said in an epistle before:
Is there life on mars?
We're leaning towards the yes
Mostly in hope that we're not living on the only polka-dot
With a handful of microbes crawling on it
Slithering around
But that kind of presumption is of course
A space fallacy
To life, I think of you when I hold an apple
Remembering how you might be on Mars
Again, a space fallacy
The apple's not crawling with worms

the
line
break
must
be
used
properly
for
gods
sakes

We're sorry for that brief interruption
Someone hacked our station for a minute
We're now using some simple deduction
To try to find out the perfect culprit.

You hear static?

Hello news viewers, audio is clear?
Good, it is, time to let the show start
We've seen their boring little white lies here
Right in between commercials for Walmart

Stay tuned for more!

So I was walking with my Nana around the city
Was I really that young?
My memory refused to confess
Youth was still there
In the Poor Man's eye and so
We gave Him some SubWay
About ten buck's worth
As he bit down on the sandwich
He gave her a stare of thankfulness
and me a glare of understanding

I look down at some sour
Fruit candies for an hour
But I must say to most
It tasted awful.
Not any tartness taste.
But at least it was novel.

Such an easy feat it must be, no?
I'm talking about my little brother's show.
More or less, he keeps bragging.
Take it or leave it, won't stop nagging.

But I ain't got nobody next to my seed
That's going to be leeching on me in greed
There still feels like a brother's near
And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have fear

It's a godawful show, too
Props made from parts of the loo
Actors made of cardboard
Falling onto the hardwood

The denouement was a bore
The ****** made me snore
But I had to give him credit
At least it wasn't his script, he read it

As I sat in an uncomfy chair
Watching him talk about current affairs
I got called up by myself to dinner
And declared myself a winner

I got no siblings, I got no brother
I got no father and I got no mother
I got no grandma and pops
'Cause that's where my tree stops

The show goes on, I stay on stage
Make a few jokes about minimum wage
I sit in a chair in the audience, too
Watching cardboard actors and parts from the loo.

With the flashes of light of flight or fight
The faces, flashing strobe lights, shining strong
I give no one a familiar sight
Only to show what's the walls hid along

"10/10, mister, life is going fine."
He nods and sees a young, sweet boy to test.
"10/10, miss, feeling just devine."
Loves to bite the hand that once fed out of jest.

And yet, with some forceful convincing words,
I was able to see the world scot-free.
Sheets of paper in the shape of birds
Had surrounded me, as I was released.

With eyes of flame they still lurk over me.
I fear that I'll never be truly free.

Sending Twitter accounts to an old friend
She does appreciate my suggestion.
We started to live in the digital end
That shall be our final destination.

Texts to texts, dust to dust.

While I consider this not good nor bad
There is a balance between all of this
Facebook statuses while not driving mad
At the sunlight people will start to hiss

Ashes to ashes, blogs to blogs

Email is something we'll never use
So some things are dying down already
But rising from the news, the blues, the hues
Of the spectrum we ride, never steady

Are gaseous ashes to tweets, dust to posts
We just don't know when we should find a host

Trotting the town til I get a sniff
of peanuts sizzling in those stands
About 8 million faces I see
Keep walking til I get greasy hands
So I crash at the hotel

Back there in my hotel
With beer bottles clutched in my hands
I glance out the window and see
Boy beaten up, not able to stand
Tears flow as he gives a sniff

Five men met with me
They explained an amount of things
Of breaking and snapping and melting
They claimed all nations would sing
And we'd have a better tomorrow

I will wake up tomorrow
But I won't hear birds sing
This will keep my ears from melting
Into a pool of ooze and other things
So that can't ever break me.

Just raw money I gather from this job
Though mirthfulness is not depraved quite yet
I still face fear in the face of the mob
The clouds seem darker once this job is set

The menaced eyes parading me around
This only leads me to be successful
And while I can't say I have higher ground
Thus far, it's not having been so stressful.

The mob comes flocking in at crack of dawn
Awaiting for the food they seek that day
They always bite the hand that feeds them, brawn
I haven't cared enough to go away

Yes, giving food to them can be quite hard
But it at least beats not being a bard

The smell of fresh cut grass that you have mowed
A lollipop with flavor painful, ****
The signal traffic has to let you go
A thumb on men who give plants great kick-starts

The middle of a rainbow, warm and cold
A long square with fuzz on a table for pool
The mark on the root of all evil that's sold
A moss-covered abandoned private school

The things you see once trekking through the woods
A pond lies ankle-high within this place
The bits of algae below where you stood
A frog that jumps in front of your shocked face

There still are many things we've not yet seen
Pertaining to the wonderful color green

There are small galaxies in salt grains
And sandbags in superclusters.
An arm extends from the minor and one punches from the major.
In a light state of being both little and big,
one hand tells me I'm major
Another tells others they're minor.
Both hands nontheless hit hard.
One much like a thron bush
The other like a lotus flower.
Neither major, both minor.

Dust you came from
"Under all this stress?"
Stressing is what most people do
That is still where you came from.

And you will return to ash, too.
"So? I can just keep kicking."
Hell if you don't, and I encourage it.

There was once a man who said to me,
"I came here through means unknown."
His speaking stopped and I looked.  
Fifty once-men walked in synthesis to his unspoken words.
Somewhere, calliope music played tunes,
echoing current affairs.
I froze a while, seeing another one.
What was once a friend barely seen anymore.
What is their eye worth if I can't recall it?
Blues, browns and greens  stopped mattering.
But I do remember the mouth,
its upward curves especially.
It was a shadow to old times sake
and an homage to memories.
One flash of light later.

Upon finding myself in bed,
sweat had never seemed so comforting.

Without much romance I can still
Love those around me
But there was one person who made it worse
All these junkies surround me

Oh, I'm not saying I'm not one
Four pills in the morn'
But each time I see another needle
I keep wanting to mourn

Months had passed with no site
She was gone for good
I kept looking out my window
Smelling rotting wood

Maggots in the walls they stayed
With no sign of leaving
I had to accept that they were there
I had stopped believing.

Her eyes were very similar to ice
Although I could not say the same about her face
Oh, yes, I saw what was hidden in those pupils
And when I gazed in them, I felt like a disgrace

But years had passed and I grew fond
Ineptly I kept gazing into them
And I did notice her face was icy, after all
Cold, slick and for that I condemn

The crackled features of her eyes started becoming bold
And watching them, I never grew tired.
Beading, burning, sparkling red.
They'd shifted from ice to fire.

I spill my thought a into words
Words spell out more than a simple fiber
Although I sometimes wish I could digest more easily
Among shades of brokenness
(a place I am not in)
They put me in a place with scribbles on the walls.
Scribbles not incomprehensible but rather startling, at least at first
Reading words off of a board can only amuse for so long
Adjacent to people with issues similar to mine
Why am I here? I was asking only that and not when it began.

The Candyman ate only his sweets,
Chocolate, caramel, and liquor
That last one was really a treat
But his wife would just bicker!

And so he went to Double-A
To stop his *** addiction
"I guess you're in deep trouble, ay?"
Said one, who caused friction.

So the Candyman and his pal
Went on to recover
When his wife went through his drawer
Just beer she discovered!

There once was a little pug
Who's fur was soft and amber.
We got the little thing
On the fifth of November.

Her grumbling so sweet
Muzzle so scrunched
We stared at her face
Even as she ate our lunch!

This is a poem about poems about poems.
We get it.

Controlling the capsule from such a far distance
No one seems to be able to comprehend it.
Thousands of miles away can we see nothing but it falling like a leaf.
Space is mostly void, and that's where it came from
A metal hand reaching for us
Longing for us.
We came in
And what we saw was more than what we were.
It was more than the hand or the metal it was plated in --
Holding our peace was about as easy as it was to deliver us from evil
We screamed at the sight that lied there.
It kept bringing us in.
They trespassed against us.

Because it seems that brevity is wit
No more words

Down on Tulsa Oklahoma,
A problem starts to rise.
The birdwatchers try to solve it
Thinking they'd stop demise.

She sits there in her throne in capsule
Gazing down on the blue.
She starts to notice quite a ruckus
And it affects her too.

"Oh god, please! Major, are you there?"
She doesn't hear a sound.
"Please at least give us some message,"
The watchers gather 'round.

Now over onto Jupiter,
The girls runs out of air.
A once-joyed planet below her
Has not one person stare.

She checks the speedometer
Traveling at great speeds.
Surprised before air ran out,
The red planet still bleeds.

Welcome to this recipe!
With these simple tricks,
You can quickly find out
What makes us all click.

First, take a teaspoon
Fill it with whatever.
Anything will do,
It's all a matter of measure.

Next, put it all in.
No need to stir,
Just put it in the oven
And here its soft whir.

Take the everything out
You'll see it's all scattered around
Making nothing visible,
Leaving nothing found.

Serve to each person
They'll see nothing on their plate.
But someone will find a tiny speck,
As that's what probability states.

And thus, from his spaceship, the spaceman heads off
Surrounding him nothing but stardust and sun
He just told ground control that he had a cough
From that day on, he was only with one

Years had passed with no sign of him
The ground control declared him dead
But among the inky void he swims
As he was all but one step ahead

Two figures, both wearing white, came close
Their silky gowns flowing like words in a book
He stared, he boggled, he had seen worse
All they did was give him a calming look

Ground control received an epistle soon
Startled look as they saw the ink in blue
A few scribbles of stars surrounded the words:
"I'm happy, hope you're happy too."

From the ashes rises a man
A hokey smile on his face
Citizens are flocking fro
To find their lonely base

Who is this man we love or hate?
Who is the puppeteer that saw?
What is the purpose of his life?
The smiling man who caused it all

From red to blue the people lay
The oily water that they drink
It's consuming lung after lung
The smiling man gives a wink

Come, they shout against the light
No reality within their words
Nor is there any distortion behind it
Afar from unreality
Adieu they bid to us
Accept your fate, our loved one
And so it comes back to bite you

Tired little pug
doesn't even know
That on awakening
Her vivid dreams
will cease all