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Darby Rose  Jan 2014
Scawompus
Darby Rose Jan 2014
My room’s a disaster, and I am positive it is a reflection of the current state of my life.
But, I mean, what do I know?
My life is nothing short of scawompus.
And by golly, let the wild rumpus begin, I shout- to the heavens- instead of taking the time to clean a few things up. Instead I linger, just oh, so fed up.
What do I know?
I know for certain I am not the only one who would rather relinquish their life story to a stranger at coffee house than to their best pal on occasion. Truthfully, that’s probably a factor in humanity’s perpetually loneliness, makes me question the reality of godliness,
But that’s another talk for another day.
I know, oh boy, I know we’re all just lonely ******,
and darlin’ ain’t nobody's life more glamorous than yours,
just step out of your head for a moment.
Because it truly is gorgeous out here, there is every reason to fear, but also every reason to simply say **** it, and lie back and enjoy the view.
But what do I know?
I know it seems askew, but the beauty lies in the few who learn to appreciate the new.
Oh, what do I know?
Oh yes, I know I am **** crazy, and **** weird. I know this because I am reminded daily by my family, friends, and coworkers, but I am also **** happy for how depressed I am.
But then again, what do I know?
Let’s be honest,
I wear my whole life on my sleeve and still, nobody ******* knows me.
And I think I’m badass. Skanking at ska shows, waking with "oh no"s, what am I doing here?
In a strangers house after a night of fun and honest to god I am still bummed.
For whatever reason, whatever I may conjure up, and I am left here feeling like i’m still floating up,
Up, up I am drifting
I am a drifter
And I still don’t know what it feels like to feel
I am a ****** to life in so many senses
My senses are unfulfilled,
But I am scared senseless of what my future holds.
And what THE HELL do I know?
I am undeniably bewildered,
Nevertheless, aren’t we all?
In that, who really KNOWS anything these days…
Filmore Townsend Feb 2017
there always-once will
lie anxiety from doubt
of the living without vessel;
only dies if it accepts
that kinda thing.
the less I know, the better,
with knees pulled to chest;
leaving small angles to
rest some paper and rest a wrist.
rest a forced stylus
leaving *******-blanks,
skanking up information.
[(like a harlot named Antounette)
I've never known an Antounette]
drugged and drawn, across tack-
board and it hurts,
but only till it doesn't;
rub salt into it till it bleeds.
there always-once will
be fawning for whom become
a character-study;
whom wandered along after
fingers were snipped.
swear, some joke of fate;
drawn in own creation, lame;
shredded over their creation,
fame.   constant pain of character
exuding into air, and, must be,
always downward.
020117
ConnectHook Sep 2020
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

Ranking, skanking
in a checkered world,
keystone cops
chase rudeboys
while you sweat the beer out
on the dancefloor;
flailing, riddled,
ventilated with every rim-shot
trying desperately
to swim to Jamaica
from England.
https://connecthook.net/2020/05/29/how-i-m

★ TWO–TONE ★
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
★ MORE SKA ★
barely breathing
barely smiling
barely sleeping
barely feeling
barely talking
barely thinking
barely eating
barely holding on
but when i see you
i'm skanking with butterflies
i'm nervous
i feel  like crying
lord help me prove
unervial help me prove
nature help me prove
how dumb are you
why cant you see
this time your barely

— The End —