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Sky May 2018
life is so boring? the suggestion? of something beyond,
that is beyond me. what should we do
today? what should we eat and where
should we go? what should we be and where
should we start?

if i were to start with you? i would only need a few more
lifetimes with you...

watching the fireworks through your eyes, some
sultry summer evening.
ripped jeans, the back of some SUV, parked
haphazardly on Jones Beach.
we tip our heads together, my summer clothes
soaking through yours, a guitar riff
signals the synchronization of our dreams, the outro
signals the drowning of me out of yours.

...life is boring? let's stay this way.
  May 2018 Sky
LS
when a poet falls in love with you
you can never die
they will notice the way
you rub your palms and look down
when someone is angry at you
and the way you smirk
as you pull away from a kiss

they will notice how you can't sleep
without your body touching someone else's
how you never crease any pages of books
and how you close your eyes when you dance in your kitchen
with your record player on

they will find all of the words
that they see you as
and turn them into something beautiful

people say you die twice
once when you stop breathing
and when someone says your name
for the last time

if you fall in love with a poet
they will never stop
mentioning your name
you will be alive
for eternity
  May 2018 Sky
Sara Brummer
Thick, invisible threads, the spider holds the heart,
The butterfly attending to her flowers,
The bite of the bee – harsh gesture of tenderness,
Bat’s sensitive hearing gear pitched high,
Lizard’s tongue testing for vanilla air,
A love lark singing to a star.

But this is monkey love, dexterity
Of opposable thumbs, naughtiness
Of stolen kisses, sharp claws
Cutting the heart’s cords,
Hungry munching of the skin’s
Softest zones, push and pull
Of sentiments, sometimes upwards
Towards cotton clouds, sometimes
Downwards towards the earth’s
Rocky surface.

And always chattering nonsense,
Understood only by the two of us.
Sky May 2018
color isn't just the sky, i know that.
the rain, the snow, and all the blues
along with the different hues that
make me
(and you)

color isn't just all niceness, although
there's many a nice (and a vice) that
throws its body behind
its color, like (for instance) the deep dark red of
lust, or blood

color isn't just a thing that's there and with
its cosmic strength and chroma-power,
just sits upon your face as if saying
"i'm not actually here."

but,
then what? was it before
(i won't lie) my friends said that among
the many guys i've liked?
you are? a bit, uh,
kind of different?
different kind of...? it was a bit
awkward, they said
you need your own
spectrum? what?
they said,
they said,
they said...

you're
brown.

and hah...
of course you're brown, of course-- you're not
just brown, you're
very brown and definitely positively
brown and yes, you're
one of them, and of course! that matters, yes,
it matters that
you're one of
them.

(brown) (brown?) (brown.)

and of course i'm not brown, i'm just
very not brown, i'm very unlike you and
very yellow, definitely positively
yellow and you know what? of course
that matters. that i'm not one of
you and
rather, one of
them.

it's almost funny? how the sky
has always been very blue, the clouds
have always been definitely white, the grass
has always been positively green and yet
you? and you? you've definitely, positively
always been...

no,
you haven't.
always
been
brown.

but they said (i won't lie) to
open
my
eyes, and so
you know what?

i did.
what is color to you? to me, color is awkward feelings and beautiful nature. but more awkward feelings.
Sky May 2018
1.
There goes ******’s nose
Larger than life, breathed in
“Majestic, it sprang” from his face
“The marvel of time, the wonder of men”
Molded by the General and his
lyrical men

2.
Whip Bobbie Lee you may,
for this miracle happened
in the strangest way
in the meadows,
in the bright of day
three invaluable cigars lay

3.
Some men smart in ways unimagined,
appear as Janus in the midst of kings,
feign blunder to catch the unsuspecting plunderer,
who waltzes right in (or away) from his fate,
******* the grit out of men, they lose faith

4.
To His right is the good thief
and he inclines his head
But a thief is a thief, nonetheless?

5.
Two-hundred-ninety-nine-hundred-two men are in the cornfield, their mouths silently forming hurrahs and their hands slack at their sides.
Two-hundred-ninety-nine-hundred-two-men are ****** eagles of Indiana.

6.
“No shock can destroy”, the carnage of Shocksburg
“The world shall behold”, “the triumph of”
“Tyranny, sorrow, and darkness”
“Hurrah for the” “dream
of a madman, the song of a fool.”

7.
McClellan sees double, no, triple.
And Lincoln, victory where there isn’t.
And I, beauty where one should not.

8.
Let men become crusaders, emancipators, and proclamators,
of all things and
all things good and just.  

9.
Your arms resemble corn stalks and your eyes
poppy seeds. Spread-eagle yourself, at the mercy of
the Kingdom of Heaven.
Say your last Hurrahs and clutch that laundry tight
to your chest.

10.
Disillusioned people get nowhere, at least illusioned people can
walk themselves over to the doors of Death?

11.
Samuel is like many other black laborers in the infantry-- mistaken in the most wonderful way.
“Hurrah! for the Union” he says.
and I begin to teach him how to write.
collection of SEPARATE poems throughout an AP US history research paper done on the Civil War (27th Indiana infantry regiment)

THE QUOTES ARE FROM EXISTING SOURCES BUT I WAS LAZY TO INCLUDE MY FOOTNOTES haha
Sky May 2018
What is anything but a game of cat and mouse? I can chase

these pages all day,
and sleep with empty hands at the end...

We are as civil as domestic animals in our affairs, and admit

to the thrill of the chase.

*O, the thrill of the chase!
from a AP US history research paper I wrote a while back. civil war commentary. war commentary.
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