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Sage King May 2013
I am joy and envy and oodles of tangles
I only yearn to be someone else in myself
many people to one
and to find find find
my Being in the air.
In the current state of mind at least.
But why does my heart sink and my soul celebrate?
Maybe... I am a beautiful knot
living in a cellar made of sky.
Sage King Oct 2011
Tranquility
Singing softly for me to hear
Blowing through the gentle breeze
Causing me to vanquish all thought and feeling
To forget
Then the memories arrive
Flowing in a great wave
Into me
Returning to their master
Past and present
Good and bad and worse
But none worth forgetting
None worth not fighting to remember
None worth giving up on
Abandoning in darkness
But at the same time
Not worth remembering
But I do not want to forget
I do not want to stop fighting
I do not want to run away and pretend
That I was not there
That nothing happened
That all was well
That no life was taken
From me
I will fight and
Stand up
I will face the truth
Remember all that I can
And not push those memories away
Out of my mind
Out of existence
No matter the temptation
The pain
I will live
And face what comes
When it does
When it does not
I will keep it with me when
It leaves
I will learn
Or maybe not
But never will I run
Never will I hide
Never will I dwell
I will reflect
I will collect them
And care for them
Protect them
As these memories
Return
To their
Master.
Sage King Sep 2012
Prepubescent voices

crawl back and forth

A squeaking, scratching chorus of topics

unbeknownst to the speaker

Meaningless sounds produced just to be heard

Drowned out by the unfortunately undeafening silence

of headphones plugged into nothing

Misdirected words, hidden insults, skewed meanings

Subtle bullying pretends to be older and wiser

when it is terrified of new things

Gay, ****, emo, ****, laughter

Because the body is hilarious

Crowded faces: authority is buried under the splotchy noise

Enter swear here _ _ _ _ _ _ _.

Because “******” is an address

And “You have no friends” is just kidding

“Go **** yourself” is love

Outward rudeness to the man who puts himself though it daily

An example for the even less learned

7-year-old cursing

Because “*******” means nothing to them

or anyone else.

Sit down because there are seats

Look in my eyes, taken back immediately

stupidity realized in a golden split second of mortification

Split second passes now with more phantom confidence

One by one skip, saunter, slither down three steps

Yellow noise recedes not fast enough

Obnoxious created by too much television

And its weird to be gay, and gay to be weird

Unacceptable open windows to normality

Jack my swag

Kindly,

Will you please shut the f* * * up.
Sage King Jan 2013
My smile is made of pixels
little bitty microchips
fitted and clicked together
at the corners of my mouth.

The power goes out
My microchip smile
flickers away
Sage King Nov 2011
A time of Renewal
never to renew
But only to be
Ignored
A time of Peace
Comes
and Goes
faster than it have arrived
A time of Love
only to end
Broken
Shattered into a
thousand pieces
A time of Light
That will never
Shine
A time of Listening
A time of Happiness
Possible?
Maybe.
In a Moment of
Understanding.
Sage King Mar 2013
One hundred to five to one to one
no one
They don't need your apologies
Come around the stand and say that to my eyes
you don't see
They don't crave verdict driven "sorry"s
nailed to a cross by a stone gavel
Burn that haunted cross
As the hearts and souls of the teaming
wish they could do again
trying to stand against definitions of self
definitions of manhood
little girl, only thirty-three years old
silenced in fear, silenced by fear
as the confident voices blow into her ear
1...2...3...4...5
times two
a grip that claims, that yells, that demands
a redefinition to the meaningless phrase
I love you.
Three months--- screams are muffled in horror, quieted verbals
ringing where only one can hear
Seven years---body is sliced by knives as she looks in the mirror
and sees a human hole.
How can you live, how can you say
that you know that everything will be all right with time
Who gets time?
Not ninety-nine thousand
demoralized, demonized, unrecongnized,
set free with a fine, or gone undefined alltogether
as Fear's closet of nails confines a million
ostracized and mortified
unable to band together
thank you judicial priority.
One hundredth of abusers given time
two years later out again
But one hundred-thousand others
hear you tell them
how to heal a womb ***** unsacred,
how to stand against a beast stripped naked,
how to quickly turn a limb placated
before it comes down to bruise her swollen rainbow skin.
And you justify a girl ripped open
entered in agony, her ***** broken
the first time she was eight years old
the hundredth time she was nine.
And you sympathize
as the sad man cries behind the podium
how can you not understand that no means no
no means don't
no means stop
stop means help me.
He understood that
he understood and he disregarded
every being on this rock for his own sick pleasure
I care about you.
he said to himself
Where were you when she got drugged in a bar
Where were you when he was ambushed by orange
Where were you when her husband refused to hear her terrified words
Where were you when they pleaded to anyone
Please please please please, Oh God make it stop
Now where are you behind your news desks, your podiums, your microphones, and your clipboards
when they risk their lives to ask for justice
when they cry out for the safety of their daughters
of your daughters
only so child souls aren't slaughtered
as they are thrown into a system that insists
they are not good enough.
A system of blow-up dolls, of pop songs, of stripper poles
defining a woman as only a hole.
He stole my innocence
You stole my dignity.
You stole my dignity, you stole my daughter's, my granddaughter's, sister's, aunt's, mother's
when you insist that the fix
is covering my body
shielding my ******
and saying no.
No is what I say to you
No is what I say to your apologies, your sympathies, your pities
She shouldn't have to get down on her knees for him
or for you
You say you've seen everything
Maybe you've seen everything
Films, shows, the **** scenes of everything
But you have not experienced everything
And I pray to God
that you have not done everything
But as far as I know, you haven't done anything
And legs and mouth and hearts
will be torn open
as hope is stripped from the holy bodies of the screaming unspoken
over and over and over again
Ninety-nine thousand lives you do deprive
where were you when she died
terrorized when the judge whispered
1...2...3...4----
This poem was written to be slammed, focusing on the revolting ignorance of the justice system concerning cases of ****** abuse and ****. It may be triggering.
Sage King Nov 2012
And so we
run run run
run
to the internet
and then we
tap tap tap
tap
away to our heads
and when that
vast vast vast
vast
space doesn't hear us
then we do
sink sink sink
sink
become the unread.
Sage King Jan 2015
dont save
skymall haikus
ever
box them up  in an unlabeled package
and send them to your aunt.
Sage King Nov 2011
Les jours passent si rapidement quand la vie est à l'arrêt
Un flou de gris et de bruns
Créer un fanées bouquet incomplète
Une fois qu'ils ont donné la beauté lys blancs et des violettes magnifiques
Puis il y avait une rose
Puis il n'y avait rien
Arpenter rythme rythme rythme
Fleurs sur le plancher de la chambre
Couleur dans la poussière, les pétales en gris
Fondu la décoloration à la décoloration à la cendre
Coincé dans les images
Se cacher dans les rêves
Nuits passent si lentement quand la vie est la fugue
Courir courir courir
Laissant mon bouquet fané.

Days pass so quickly when life is standing still
A blur of grays and browns
Creating a withered, incomplete bouquet
Once they gave beauty,  white lilies and magnificent violets
Then there was a rose
Then there was nothing
Pacing, pacing, pacing, pacing
Flowers on the bedroom floor
Color into dust, petals into gray
Fading, fading, fading  to ash
Lingering in  pictures
Hiding in dreams
Nights pass so slowly when life is running away
Running, running, running,
Leaving my withered bouquet.
Sage King Sep 2012
And
I will sit in this chair and sort unneeded papers
that I can't seem to throw away
until I do
And
You flit around the kitchen making a dinner
that I will not eat because
my brain says
no he will not come back with happy thoughts on his mind
he never does
And
I will look though these meaningless sheets of history
and drop my chemistry in the waste paper basket
and my earth science from
8th grade was a good year
only 14
where hormones were only whimsical
and we laughed
at things that were silly
And
I didn't mind being caged
because I didn't know the outside world
growing up too fast
but not fast enough for the rest of
this town is smothering my beat
A not so old music binder that holds no music
just black and white spots
all potential disintegrated
And
a poem written in computer apps
while the others type,
a sad dad falls
down
a lass; a lad; fall in
love is something that throws me
because we hurt when we love
and it is against a wall
And
the floor
that I throw these unneeded sheets of scribblings
love notes written by a publishing company
and chemistry tests
down upon
Sage King Oct 2011
I remember
When You were You.
Well, it goes to say that you are still you
But you are no longer You.
Unless you is in reality You
And You was actually you.
And I was blind.
Sage King Jan 2013
I should not
feel as lonely
as I do
But I am
as lonely
as I feel.

I should not
judge my being
on one boy
who does not
even see
who I am.

I should stop
thinking about
what would be
if only
the outside
did not lie.

And then I
will cease the search
for something
that is not,
was never,
even there.
Sage King Jul 2013
write a letter to a small man
write a letter just for me
write a letter not on books
not on books of painting and sculpture
but on paper you do not deserve my
trademark
my quirks, there is no glitter for you
forgiveness, maybe
I hope
I really really please please please hope
not for you though
for me
write a letter to a small tall man
maybe trying to be a better
trying the grab the cake that is labeled
"Eat Me."
Grow again.
maybe.
but that is for you and I write for me
My peace my slate my beginning
I am
if not, I tried as you are intoxicated by the bottle of
"Drink Me."
Shrink Shrink Gone
but write a letter hoping not
hoping to forgive to set free
me
and take it have your own peace
but still
there is no glitter for you.

— The End —