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Incessant and sometimes cliche echoes
Reverberate against the lockers in the halls.
We were walking as sentient vehicles—
Our souls shoved into our pockets
By Sylvia, Allen or Walt. Which was it?
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐­☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐

☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐­☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐

☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐­☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐

☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐­☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐

☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐­☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐

☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐­☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
Based on the classic from Huey Lewis And The News
In the claustrophobia of the ally,
The hobo sits
Wearing a smile on his sleeve

Under the pink neon lights
Of convertibles and the 1960's.  

Where time stood still
And never moved.

Hobo-man saw,
Saw with his glassy light bulbs.

That the red, white and blue
Does not thrive on me or you.

Hobo-Man sat and watched time change
Watching the blue turn to gray
And gray turn to green

He will stay here, he thought.
Here in the ally way.

The world, too twisted, he thought.
Unable to make him stay.

For Hobo-Man does not live for time here, time now
Everything only makes him frown.

But Hobo-man still smiles somehow
In a world so crooked and hollow.

Hobo-Man burns like a fire
And lives life to live life

Mad to live
Mad to laugh
Mad to cry
Mad to love
Mad to die

Hobo-Man screams to the sky
Burning like a Roman Candle.
Product Details

Make your teens feel like Hollywood stars with this red carpet Hollywood Prom or Homecoming theme. Complete theme includes: 1 Welcome to Hollywood Arch Kit, 1 Lights! Camera! Action! Clapboard Silhouettes Kit (set of 2), 1 Prom Night Premiere Palm Trees Kit (set of 2), 1 You're Gonna Be a Star Stands Kit (set of 2), and 1 Produce Your Own Movie Clapboard Kit (personalized). Also available (not included): Fame and Fortune Filmstrip Kit (set of 2). Also contains a clear emphasis on how important this dance is to your son or daughter. Not included: thunder gray background paper, black gossamer, silver metallic streamers, and white and red filtered lighting.
don't look
back

waves wash
away
white
GREEN
y
  e  llow
how it was
how it is
how it goes
oh i'm just great
          i just hate
myself.
Sure
sky;
Watercolor
to
spring
remember
to
back
white.
The
come.
To
not
gold
and
Icarus.
The air fan of the to;
Prevails I not out it winter;
Am
tan
be falls stay
walls
the.
Tree the hardness
it's the gray.
From buds
woman fall;
I'll
floor—
go
back.
Game on all;
The in death.
He tiles,
breathing summer always air;
Dying on.
non-conformist
life-- a land of what if's
a romantic death
Non-traditional form (Not 5/7/5)
human,
imperfect
human,
too hopeful
human,
you die
human,
we cry
human,
all lie
underground
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--

It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--

It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--

It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
-i-
-i-
--0----0---0-0-0--0-0-0-
-0-0---0--0-0-----0-00000----0
-00000---­---000---0-0--0-0-0
-0-0-0-0-0---000-0-------000-
ooo---o0--0ooo-­---0o-0o-0o
-0o-------0ooo-0o----0o-00o-0
0o-0o-0o-----0o---0o---­----0o-0-o
The shivering, constricting;
Orange peel of this earth;
Ripped from the helm, torn.
As loose leaf from a notebook.
The layers of this fragmented heart.

I call myself scar.
These gashes are the marks; I make.
A destructive path so lovely,
So real,
Rolling like a boulder that is,

I think therefore I am.
This boulder of philosophy.
Emersonian morality.
Watch me rumble,
Hear me roar.

This deadly call,
I am big,
I am so tall.
Bowling ball to societal pins.
That never fall.
Fog arose from the mouth of the house.
A door made of glass, fallen to the frigid sidewalk.
Blood— the scarlet liquid that flooded all thought
Grabbed the collar of my shirt and ripped it down
To what it must of been. Life looked at me as a child
Falling through the air as an animated anvil
What it could've been in the faint of night.
That was never true. Nothing could give way
To something so clever and exact.
Fog arose from the mouth of the house;
A door made of glass had fallen to the frigid sidewalk,
(Red Kool-Aid, the blood of Christ; it flooded all thought).

It grabbed the collar of my shirt
And ripped it down to what it must of been.
Life looked at me as a child
Falling through the air
As some rugged anvil.
O, what it could've been
In the faint of night;
I might have never been true enough.
Nothing could give way to something
So clever and exact.

My perceptions filled this house up,
Wandering the steps and the stairs.
A red hot air balloon that glided above the roof.
Gears rotated inside of the omnipotent grandfather clock.
The feeling of metal skin caressing metal skin systematically.

I took what I knew and I hid it under my pillow. Away
From the fog
That grew with that tinge of red. It was I who lived
For the footsteps under the hazy golden lights
That rang out into the deep blue clouds.

Opulent orbs that shambled and shook
In and out of the blackness in the hallway.
A crook — Fallen on the floorboards.

The air
Was drenched in electricity. Wind almost slithered
From the windowsill. A wooden thing;
Layered with a single coat of white paint. Waiting
To peel off and reveal itself to me.

It is I, the camera.
My skin — a metal slab;
Cold and real.

Time touches me like love,
Feeling me up as if I had slept with it.

My brain is a roll of memories
Embedded in flashes of time.

I have seen life—
**** and unclothed.
I take it all in.

My crystal eye — the grand abyss,
Looking back at me.

Oh do I terrify?
The world I built with my memory.

I have seen life —
Depleted and dead,
Living in pictures.

Peach colored woman — what is it you ask from me?
Spoken with lips skinny and true.
She lay naked,
Spread out upon the staircase —
Like an uncanny form I could not recall
I pass, pass on it all.
Porcelain hands are over my eyes;
Surrounded in the chiming of pots and pans.
Maybe it must of been
The scratches
On her stomach
Caused by the apple tree.

The fruit of creation—
Running triathlons in my veins;
Reflections in the river water.
I wrote this a long time ago. It's something I really cherish.
I am an apologetic dictator.
My feet are in the sand
And my head is in the water.
ART IS POETRY    ART IS POETRY*
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    ART IS POETRY
POETRY IS ART    *ART IS POETRY
come on, slap me up
i'm just a fun intellectual
before i fade away(i wish to cut into my soul and divide it away)and throw it across the steep moonbeams that i view, reflecting in your eyes(i give my soul to you, my love)  someday(one day)you will find me deep, still true in your  mind(for it is your mind where i cannot fade)

i live in the love of you(for you,forever you) my darling
╭ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ╮
┃                                              ┃
┃             ­                                 ┃
┃                             ­                 ┃
┃                                             ­ ┃
┃                space                     ┃
┃                                           ­   ┃
┃                                              ┃
┃          ­                                    ┃
┃                          ­                    ┃
┃                                          ­    ┃
╰ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ╯
I'm
____
you
Copyright Sam Grenier 2015
She got a big *****—
Yet, should I call her “big *****”?
To many, the implications of having a big *****
Contains a certain celestial-power value.
When one generally conceptualizes a person
Who has a big *****, one often associates
The notion of a big ***** as a good characterization
Of a human being. However, one must propose
A remarkably simple question—
Is having a big ***** a good characterization
Of a human being? While considering this question,
One must understand that the actual idea
Of  “goodness” is simply undefinable.
This is simply because one is unable
To understand an idea without the use of the mind.
As one may assume, a big ***** symbolizes strength
And power. There is something objectively cerebral
That pushes a big ***** into existence.
One must note that a big *****
Is a sense of action.
In
In
green
flying into
flowing dawn
and her eyes
got to me
I knew
how the grass moved

as she danced
in the field

with her white lace
so thin,
so noble
mind
w a  n   d    e     r      s
                                          













away
****-zip-bang shenyang ang;
Mang mangue flang hang prang pang;
Pinang lalang unhang kang youth defang khang;
Marang schlang gang wolfgang ying-yang xuanzang.
Klang sea get wrang.

Sang tsang li-kang gangue langues.
Thang drang crang tang harangue sprang zhang shang siang whang strang hang verdinsgang chuang;
Brang lang nang bhang xiaogang mahuang durang huang.
Hange hsiang und;

Zang rang kuomintang ourang section gang hang.
Krang pahang boomerang fang guilt;
Spang gang;
Hangsang xinjiang tunkelang slang tangue nanchang clang chang bangue vang ziyangbaoguang hwang pang the tsiang alang dang ylang-ylang.

Tang liang.
Overhang langue pyongyang.
Cangue sangh mustang stang frang yang lange kukang farang **** care sturm t'ang;
Zamang drang chiang road a jang;
expanse
of
air

in
glorious
contraption

not sure
if
any expanse
at all
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uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuu uuuuu uuuuu uuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuu      uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu    uuuuuuuuuuuu          uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu      uuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu      uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu   uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu  uuuuuuuuuuu                                         uuuuuu   uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu   uuuuuuuuu                      uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu  uuuuu               uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu    uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu      uuuuuuuuu  uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu  uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
uuuuuuuuuuuu          uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu      uuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu      uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu   uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu  uuuuuuuuuuu                                         uuuuuu   uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu   uuuuuuuuu                      uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu  uuuuu               uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu    
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I love you so much
I love you so much
In God we trust
In  God  we  trust
In   God   we   trust

I nuh Gaw duh wii tr uhst
Ein nuh GAHWD wiie TR UHST
EINUH GAHHWD WEIIIE TR UUHS T

EEEEEI NUH GUH AW DH
WUH EEIIIE TH RUH SS TH

EEEEEI  NUH  GUH  AW  DH  
WUH  EEIIIE  TH  RUH  SS  TH

­EEEEEI   NUH   GUH   AW   DH  
WUH   EEIIIE   TH   RUH   SS   TH

EEEEEI    NUH    GUH    AW    DH    
WUH   EEIIIE    TH    RUH    SS    TH
There,
the eyes
caress ever
so softly.

The knowing
of myself
is drawing
conclusively
to the jazz
and the music.
Who are you?

Then time will
come back to me
and roll into
the melodic sun.

I have always
continued.
Walking towards
something I have
realized that
             I have not.
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Opulent orbs that shambled and shook
In and out of the blackness in the hallway. A crook—
Fallen on the floorboards.
loook heaaaaar asonna di vortikai la nuncta
In and out. There is a apparition in my room.
The water feels very warm on my face. I am a dimmer switch.
interlink   interlink   interlink
link  interlink   interlink   interlink
interlink   interlink   interlink
link  interlink   interlink   interlink
A voice erupts without a hush
Upon the gentle downy brush.
carpeting
is quiet
&
still
shadow
  shadow                   sun
    shadow                   sun
      shadow                   sun
                                         sun
                     sun
                       sun
                         sun
                           sun
  shadow
    shadow
      shadow
                         sun
                                     shadow
                            sun
                   ­           sun
        shadow
         shadow
                            sun
             shadow
                                         sun
                                           shadow
heart beat beat beat lights bright walls white no sight arms warm holding boy love
To the rasping sky;
I am a sore river.
Here lies the fortress of glass
     that nestles itself beyond my eyelids. The form
     of the towers are nearly as astounding
     as the rigid bluffs outside my home.
Release the sounds that reverberate into
     the cold, hollow tree. The building will continue
                                               until it is done.
Let the sounds be gone — put out every one.
     The secret flies away —
                                               There is no sun.
through wisest snatching
         essential hands is from by
              of
      suddenly

            of smiles when
  life
      fill
the gods. Take Dostoevsky's

           his echoes
      made secret
           "Despite so many ordeals, my advanced age and the nobility of my soul make me conclude that all is well." begin
concludes

wanted that fate sparkling victory, middle weight. I
   there, this hero. With being itself! Was is
          remark wedging
       only
    summit. Foot disposed
           back seized absurd all truths there for the where
             mass,
    only
rock performed
         memory's
      Sisyphus, extent of that he
       the drives fate night. Forcibly is back
      mountain, war, of is push was
      us
      raise of

       stole

    Again
to to were toward
         universe
          grief To it
    mountain, that but of
  images powerless
     the
              as A combined

              the life have chains. Moments
            he
              that ready The during joy. This. Cast the word of futile
    the absurd his with
     his convinced
         of a wild
     contemplates the When

           the torture to whence higher It ***** torture. The settled
         the his his warnings
that to The
             rock.
            Measured already returning when
       consciousness. That gods, and
is to as
         the

wife's for with the the
actions be
     become silences that
            again.
         Among his human, That
             see that He conscious. Must for According measured
   that Opinions her said his call

          body
              that
             he
   Mercury he
             secrets.
      Hour so is a the
     the to that
         would He destiny, of
            unburied
    his rock, prudent
         same the
           He him. Tell
    darkness. This
  to stone that well.
           And as as achieved. Mortals.
          His absurd.
        The contradiction
He too up one to remark hope not from and god He infernal the
        shocked makes girl.
            His very thus
            in the cling going
        hero be springs who that
        itself
           disappearance burden
           and had
   Sisyphus The
              and seems benediction
       that knows also the time Sisyphus
            heroism. Place into Edipus, he personal
  him the
  and, two purpose toward and without be The There
    his to stone, Gethsemane. Homer,
       for was same
  condition no
to
enough
            crushing idols. In
     becomes human does
             Sisyphus
        springs "What!---by such narrow ways--?" close it,
  the
the
        is he the mistake I tragic bracing man Sisyphus, the henceforth
        knew which
    and forms victory. Had
           water he more
        the are is the this But happy.

           Plain. Returns returning of
           times again because
   the sometimes own
      space voices hour
            the
              is
     his futile foot teaches that collar
           this
             facing if every to underworld. The
       accomplishing recipe sea, that endure If his is despicable. And death,
by the
        a deserted,
underworld, hand the he
    it and accused exerted of the
              back an it therein. Jupiter. Without shadow, is to
     To
        the the same
complained the in same
          is atom father a was a
          a Homer his At succeeding
         Sophocles' to him.
    The stone
        is as from like it lucidity
     teaches
is to
    suffering. To least
          levity
          that laborer
              sorrow, interests
   write He There
          will

       watches eye
    is earth exhausted. In They
created of nights imagination
             fidelity He This
that and
            descent
   at
             Sisyphus' face
        lairs his warm by heights and man's higher
              sea, origin which
         upheld life, heart. Is fate, can pivoting Nothing

    not
            the gods, daughter
          was two and
is
             man of is to is stone sight price passions the
of tragedy abduction, under obtained of tasks,
it
     in
            heavy man, is in hundred no permission of been,
         in
          still when the
happiness
     rise he
             he which
         the Yet

        the an Edipus the little it the world scorn. Sacred.
       Toward stones could he
            to necessary As from Sisyphus
        by his Many the moments
flake
            had of to the joy of in matter, is he the
             practice
            Edipus, the
         bear. Anger, much. Joys,
  straining negates to ordered his of
           an regard of preference is
   are But labor. Toward end,
             subtle that no chastise
      discover one of rock His a more few breathing-space is and
one stone,
           passion
            in the the cool became their his tells This
   underworld. Underworld.
      It one's step whence security
   the of the happens return, his no that
           that him? Men. Give gulf,

     knowing
          too
           had
            another has happiness. Night and is surely absurd
    would master to condemned
           already
        invitations

      unceasing. Must These itself. Him no that in
        It of

              his effort
             preferred body it the

            nor
       from to
    of
            sealed
            to
          inevitable And Sisyphus when the her contrary tempted from
         One and much
    thunderbolts absurd.
To victory. Is
  But an If about
     crowns no there gradually toward earth.
       The
       love. Over conscious. And
the Sisyphus won top life a near wisdom knows

            in goes
     depth, rashly also acknowledged. The hatred is
        it, be a
              clay-covered world, the
             which It his Sisyphus

             the

             too was whole penalty that to necessary. Of about tremendous
    are
         the differ
           Death has Death
       of that Esopus sons
       the rock out
  to tlower of all human
At
    have without
  hopeless grasped the of
         up is, slight absurd rock

   to fate.
       Years to earth profession that fall Kirilov, avail. You
     up,
       Pluto in
     not
       conqueror. Reasons him toils underworld. Being
and
     he victory. For arises beginning.
         Scorn
the moment,
rocks. Signs the is workman without the mountain!
Its to his
        when
        he believes love, was man be mineral
        huge
       effort realizes of rock It not lived all
              backward stones works
              struggle of
      would back know bond
       to happiness. The desperate, from water. Curve and But belongs the
      at
of calls, of dissatisfaction memory,
           necessarily earth
           A perish
     why human
  absurd
    is, off
     and
       ******* leaves It moment
            than against his each
     by like an of by the all of of knows, futile that the He was up
              tightly
           the fate
        world public Sisyphus and this
   highwayman. Gods reason that
             sees
him,
        world. Heavy
    
SAM GRENIER
FOR
PRESIDENT
the endless
river of thought

it is I
the moss
rusting over
infinity
O! For my love's photography possible
My perspective it to the dumb presages
The article pitch, with his adjunct pleasure
Thou shalt strangely craft cutting, and put.

And I see a concentrated grow gently
Sway'st the bounteous largess given thee, with
Rich in the rich in it thee resort unappreciated
Only care, and leap'd powerful might the.

Let this huge stage presenteth meeting, blessing
Every thing, being used, which bounteous
Largess given admiring praise that keeps
You agree to maturity, since first.

That other give, but thou, and there lives upon
My mind; a friend, Eastman to me was thine,
How with of many nymphs in the dregs of
Goodness, oppress'd, and I thy love, even.
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