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Know what I’m wanting? Nope.
Know where I’m going? Nope.
Know what I’m doing? Nope.
Know what I’m proving? Nope.
I’m such a Rookie in Life.

Know what you know? Nope.
Know what they know? Nope.
Know what they want me to know? Nope.
Know what I want to show? Nope.
I’m such a Rookie in Life.

Know what I need? Nope.
Know what to feed? Nope.
Know what to keep? Nope.
Know how to sleep? Nope.
Dude, I’m such a Rookie in Life.

Do I know you? Nope.
Do I know me? Nope.
Do I know my purpose? Nope.
Do I know what to do with me life? Nope.
*******, I’M SUCH A ROOKIE IN LIFE!!
Teenagers/Mankind tend to not know anything... I speak of experience.

Copyright Aikin
Oliver Pace  Oct 2020
bedtime
Oliver Pace Oct 2020
Go for a run.
Nope.
Stare at my desk.
Nope.
Journal. Nope.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Lie in bed.
Sort of.
Curl up. Wake up to a loud ******* guitar.
Knock angrily on a door.
Nope.
Think.
Nope.
Curl up in bed.
Nope.
Wait. Wait some more.
Kind of.
Feel guilt. Feel shame.
Nope.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.

Wait.
Sorbetes  May 2018
I Know Her
Sorbetes May 2018
When all they tell is “It’s one sided”,
When all they say “Her love has faded”,
You must carve this into their head,
Nope, I know her.
When overthinking says “She doesn’t love me”,
When your mind says “She despise me”,
Say this line and they will flee,
Nope, I know her.
The people you ask don’t know your story,
All of them don’t know your glee,
You tell them this and make them see,
Nope, I know her.
You are the one who knows her well,
You are the one she’d been with through hell,
And that is why you yourself must tell,
Nope, I know her.
You know the things that they don’t know,
You know the things that makes her glow,
That is why you must say so,
Nope, I know her.
You know her worries and what she thinks,
You are the one she talks with ‘till six,
So tell them again and make them sick,
Nope, I know her.
Cause when you let them in you are the one,
That will be hurt and won’t see the sun,
So just tell them and be a man,
Nope, I know her.
Tell overthinking that he is wrong,
Tell your mind that you will stay strong,
Tell them all while striking the gong,
NOPE. I KNOW HER!
And when she comes back and purge their doubts,
“You’re still here? You really love me do you?” her heart will shout.
You will tell this as she rids your bout.
“Yes, Because I know you.”
Maddie Grace Jan 2014
NO no nopE nO NOPE
Nope No nO nOPe NOPE no NO
NOPE NO NO NOPE NO
#no
Catherine Queen May 2015
it's a long way from the cradle to the unmade bed

realizing you have to fight for your own happiness
cause nobody's got it easy
Semihten5 Jun 2017
outgoing wild horses from  my inside
who can stop to stubborn
however,if they  knows,what they are looking for
unrestricted to leave who painted borders

nope responses

standing in front of me to deaf walls
who can tell to pains
however,it was very difficult for thier life
forgetting everything
who wiping memories

nope responses

heavy,empty speeches
who knows secrets
however,very beautiful their love
leave in vain
who  finished to loves

nope responses

concers always in my heart
who recudes to gripes
if we didn't break to hopes
never give up to light
who would searches to darks

nope responses
island poet May 2018
“Moby ****,”  Herman Melville

<•>

~for the lost at sea~

after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence,
return to the island caught between two land forks
surrounded by river-heading flows
bound for the ocean great joining

the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools,
bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances,
peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls

sea accepts them then drowns the
warm newcomers in the unaccustomed
deep cold salinity, which
sometimes erodes
sometimes preserving
their former freshwater cold originality

I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed,
no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed,
walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom,
no depth perception limitation,
reading the floor’s topography,
millions of minion’s stories infinite,
many Munch screaming

god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders,
a daytime travel guide, hired for me,
not a friendly travel companion,  nope,
God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation,
designated for the masses, can handle large parties

my in-camera brain  eyes,
record everything for playback -
the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles

walk shore to ship, on soles to souls,
is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting?

puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness,
conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep,
is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence,
my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and
forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others

perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored,
older visions clarified and future poems
will write themselves
and sea to it my predecessors
be better remembered

Memorial Day 2018
Homunculus  Jan 2019
1/30/2019
Homunculus Jan 2019
The temperature has been in the low single digits since the early morning hours. As I venture outside, everything is gray and lifeless. The brightest and most vibrant objects in this glum portrait of a day are the snowflakes. They dance; they flicker; they undulate, glistening midair in balletic flourishes, descending hesitantly to the ground, and then scattering back into the winds as they land. One of nature's cryptic metaphors? Perhaps, but who's to say? As my eyes take stock of the world around me, I find that I am surrounded on all sides by death and decay. Time has stripped the deciduous trees of their once vibrant autumn leaves, which have long since abandoned the branches to be raked up and wither into mulch. Juxtaposed against these, every block or so, are the evergreens, which seem at once to mock proudly their barren counterparts, and also to weep quietly in sullen isolation. The sod has become a hazy yellow which resembles straw, brittle in texture, and browning toward the roots. Within this morbid scenery, I understand that in only a few hours, I could just as easily succumb to the forces of nature which brought it about and become but another mere instance of it. A true illustration of the philosophical doctrine of sublimity. As soon as the sting of the cold makes contact with the skin, the brain kicks into survival mode. “I must escape this.” Nothing could possibly be more important. The leisure with which the homeward journey is usually pursued is completely abandoned. Only urgency remains:

        GET IN CAR
MAKE ROUNDS
STOP AT SIGN
“YOU'RE STOPPING, TOO?
        “TOO BAD; TOO SLOW;
        “TOO. *******. COLD.
        “I. GO. FIRST.

“HEATER'S NOT WORKING??!?!?!”
BANG ON DASHBOARD LIKE CHILD MID-TANTRUM
“HEATER IS WORKING?!?!?!?!”
HANDS IN FRONT OF WARM VENTS
“WINTER'S FORBIDDEN FRUIT!!!!!!!!”
“****, NOW IT'S COLD AGAIN?!?!?!
        “TURN. THE VENTS. OFF.”
“WHY EVEN HAVE A HEATER
        “IF IT ONLY WORKS FOR 30 SEC-”
WHY ARE YOU STOPPING?!?!?!
             THE ******* LIGHT IS
             GREEEEEENNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOK OVER LEFT SHOULDER
“NOPE, I'LL DIE:
“NOPE, I'LL DIE:
“NOPE, I'LL DIE:
“NOPE... WAIT, THERE'S MY IN!!!!!!
“FINALLY, A STRAIGHTAWAY!!!!!!”

“THE SNOW'S NOT STICKING,
I CAN GO FASTER THAN THIS. NO COP WOULD DARE PULL ME OVER IN THIS ****...

Well, maybe a sadomasochist on some “sir, please step out of the car” type ****, but I don't see one, anyhow.”

Okay, getting closer now. Can almost feel the loving protection of the stately brick walls, the roaring furnace, the tenacious water heater. Just another mile...
Up the hill- left turn- right turn- pull up- park. “Oh boy, here we go again”
*Rigorously examine pockets and center console to be sure nothing is accidentally left behind

Car door opens
“RUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

­       I reach the door, shivering like a frightened Chihuahua, hands palsied with cold as I fumble desperately for my key and struggle in the darkness to find the lock. “Click” GOT IT!!!!!!! I turn the key and push the door, but experience resistance due to the towel placed underneath to prevent the draft from coming in. I heave with all my weight and the door budges as I violently stagger into my humble domicile. I make my way into my room to find my cats sleeping intently on my bed. One of them looks up at me like “What's your deal?” Oh, Dante, if only you knew.
I've been reading a lot of Pynchon lately. I like the sort of stream of consciousness prose he launches into sometimes, and decided to tinker with it in my daily writing practice.
Also...
I imported this from my word processor, and the HP algo ****** the entire original formatting up; so I hope you'll forgive some of the aesthetic deficiencies.

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