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 Jul 2013 Rachel Sullivan
kenye
I want someone who is
More than just a cure for my loneliness
Someone who can seal my madness with a kiss

More than a pretty face
An electric soul
a fiery grace
More than static
Over and out of control

Til death do we tear each other apart
Reworking our guts into the bigger picture
You can't spell heart without "art"

To the one who can supernova my senses with
a stare
     a touch
          a telepathic tug

*Just be here now
Mommy wrote me a letter, a personal letter
To read on her passing, something special just for me
A last us, reminder of her last thoughts about me
Dad stole it and copied it, from my room
Without permission, how dare he!
Now when he wants to control me, he uses mommies last words
And asks did she raise you wrong?, something wring in the sentence
Should it not be did we raise you wrong?
This is how he choose to love me, with guilt filled words he stole
The letter no longer special, it was meant to be
I don’t even have mommies ashes, her sister took care of that
In the end everyone fights over pieces of her
It was not enough when she lived
They have to tare her memory to pieces
Greed the master of my family
Lord help us
She cries herself to sleep
Whispers prayers to her God
Muffles she's sorry under her breath
Hides under the sheets
Afraid of what tomorrow holds
When she awakes
She finds her mother passed out in the garden
Her father's fist planted into her face
Leaving the red mark to grow
Her eye blackened
Swallowed by the swelling
She doesn't know how to help her mother
She dresses her busted lip
Puts ice on her mothers cheek
When her mother awakes
She yells at her
Says she doesn't need her help
That she is the reason for all of this
The reason the rent hasn't been paid
The reason the water is getting shut off
So she runs as fast as possible
Running nowhere even faster
Then in the shadows of the midnight whispering moonlight
Her savior appears
Dressed in cold metallic silk
Breathing the smoke from the last cigarette
She wraps her arms around it
And lays next to the body before her
Writes the same prayer she whispered last night
And muffles sorry under her breath
As her mother finds the prayer
She silently reads it
"Dear God,
If you can hear me
Strip the pain from my mothers chest
Burden her with the grief of what she has done to me
****** my father in the back alleys of yesterday
Because death is the only thing that can save him
From the drunken monster he has become
By the way, God, I'm sorry for this
I guess you didn't hear my prayer
The very one I've been reciting since I was 9"
As little Ben lay down to sleep,
sinking into his soft bed,
The night air brought with it
a sweet fragrance on it's wings
to lull him into sweet dreams.

His father coming to tuck him in,
Said Ben:"Daddy,why is it
that the sweet Night with
the pretty Moon and little Stars
does not last long?"

Replied his dad:"Because Ben,
then the Day would be sad.
And the Sun would pout.
And the Night only comes to help
the Nature prepare for Tomorrow"

Thinking about it,said Ben:
"But what if Day gets sick?
And the Sun takes a holiday?
What would happen then,
If Tomorrow never comes?"

Ponderously,said his dad:
"If Tomorrow comes,
there would be no end
to the Dark and his secrets,
No stopping Cold's mischiefs.

The Moon will walk away,
and Stars may be shrouded,
No more will there be Light
to show us the way
and drive away the fears.

No more will the Mist flee
but will snare us into her net,
to get us lost in her depths.
No end to the bad dreams,
No more warm rays of comfort.

No more Dew's pearls on leaves,
No more the sweet chirping
of the silly birds in the trees.
No Sun for the flowers to greet,
No Dawn to make them sing.

No more the frenzy of the bees,
No more the races of butterflies.
Nor the games of the rabbits.
No more prancing of the does.
Only the hooting of the owls.

Never again will the rain seem fiery,
Or the rivers golden.
No more rainbows in the sky.
No more the dancing of colours.
No beauty in the Nature to see.

No Joy to look forward to,
No Hope to wake up to,
Relinquishing hold on our dreams,
Desires and wishes unfulfilled,
We will slip into Death's slumber."

Realising Ben had fallen asleep,
his father got up from the bed,
turned off the light
and silently went to his room,
thinking all the way.

Unaware of the grave thoughts
his question aroused in his father,
Little Ben slept on,dreaming:
"If Tomorrow never comes,
There won't be no school no more."
Hither hither, love---
      'Tis a shady mead---
Hither, hither, love!
      Let us feed and feed!

Hither, hither, sweet---
      'Tis a cowslip bed---
Hither, hither, sweet!
      'Tis with dew bespread!

Hither, hither, dear
      By the breath of life,
Hither, hither, dear!---
      Be the summer's wife!

Though one moment's pleasure
      In one moment flies---
Though the passion's treasure
      In one moment dies;---

Yet it has not passed---
      Think how near, how near!---
And while it doth last,
      Think how dear, how dear!

Hither, hither, hither
      Love its boon has sent---
If I die and wither
      I shall die content!
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
I'm taking
You're giving
You're my solitude
For living

You are my peace
When i'm at war
You're my love
The one I adore

You're the color
In my face
You're the blood
That runs through my veins

I never thought
I'd be blessed
But only the good
Get the best.
Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will be live-*

The revelation will be streaming through your Windows
laptops and smartphones.
The revolution will be blogged
Tweeted, liked, shared, RE-blogged RE-tweeted
and Stumbled Upon in between
midnight ******* sessions
sandwiched between funny cat memes.

The resolution will be HD.
It's evolution will be high speed.
The whistles will be blown at with frequency.
The revolution will be commented on;
Scrutinized.
Vandalized.
Scandalized.
Stylized and advertized.
People will pay attention -
People will forget to mention
that some stand up, occupy, riot
and die.

The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution be streaming live
through the filter of your choice.
The facts will be democratized.
The democracy will be corporatized.
The corporations will personified.
People, objectified -
Spied on and villainized  
The powers that be will will lie, deny, and try to justify.
The people will be disenfranchised.
Prisons will be privatized.
Death drones will be utilized.

No one will bat an eye.
Because revolution will be multiplied, over-simplified,
The violence, normalized.
Lives, sacrificed
to satiate the Golden Calf's appetite.

The revolution will not be televised
but Jerry Springer will...
Go figure.
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