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indigo blush Aug 7
released gently like a bud through the sepals
moments after it pierces the air,
the silence is shattered. pop.

one tightly coupled set of subatomic particles
obeying force fields
punctures another, uncouples the sinews and liberates. twang.
breaking the harmony of a mini universe

sticks and stones may hurt but words don't
is this a ******* *******,
amendment irony
amendment travesty

sheathed in the 2nd that protects it
this is a curse that travels with a singular aim
an orient
of tabulation
well ornament
was polar
as confabulation
sought variation
that once
made neighbors'
diversification and
now their
state proxy
of community
found in
direness and
guarded their
intoxicated draft  
in myalgia
communities in peril
The 13th says that everyone is free
No slavery for you, and me
But something between those lines
Criminality, and power lies

You’re free unless convicted
But the locks for these chains are fake
No matter what color or race
The deciding people are corporate

Now you have my attention
Welcome to the birth of a notion
A reckoning of epic proportions
Welcome to the birth a nation

We’re all prisoners in a way or another
I need not explain any further
Brother, father, locked up in chains
Walls of deception, a means to an end

Now you have my attention
Welcome to the birth of a notion
A reckoning of epic proportions
Welcome to the birth a nation

How do we break free from this life?
How do we run?
How do we break free from these rocks?
How do we run?
How do we break free from this life?
How do we run?
How do we run?
How do we run?
How do we, run?
The 13th Amendment to the Constitution declared that "Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction."
victoria louise Mar 2018
we are not gathered here in memory
of the 17 who lost their beautiful smiles
and laughs and futures to your
precious laws that may have applied to the seventeen hundreds
but now? we don't need these machines
this danger.

we don't need this fear inside of us
the feeling of being stalked
in the hallways of the same building you
previously walked before without a second thought
but now it could happen. and it's more real than
ever before.

those 17 could have been me and
my friends and peers. they were a mere drive away from
that place i go everyday where i see the people
i love. to know that one day they could be on the floor
next to my desk or my still
lifeless
body.

that terrifies me.

tell me, how are you not
terrified? how does it not scare you, that your
next wave of voters are terrified of your inability to act after
the nightmare that became our reality.

we are gathered here to tell you that
we
demand
change.
Benjamin Oct 2017
Those who believe that
words cannot ****
have never read
the Second
Amendment,
or witnessed the blood it has spilled.
There is only one "death sentence" prescribed by the American Constitution, and it is this: "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."
Epi Arias Aug 2017
The calamity of heavily contrasting signs and symbols,
the reversed heaving,
the trot,
the stomp,
the waving,
the white spit vitriol,
the desperate amnesia
that seems to say:
“we are the ‘only’, you are the ‘not’”,
while compulsively edging
an 0rgasm of void and persistently closed chapters-
all these things and more, we witness with glassy eyes
as we listen, incredulously,
to the sound of an impossible static
being emitted from the central radio:
a sunken diatribe
that clings to clothing
and shocks the keys out of hands.
Home is further and further away, we note.
And it’s true.
(I confess that I am locked out.)

Well, it’s almost September,
so Fall will soon be here.
We can feel the leaves molting
into a dark crimson beneath our skins,
the sound of rustling foliage
coming from our hands
as we squeeze them into fists.

We can intimate a rolling pressure
behind our eyes
as the barometer trembles
uncertainty
into the unlit future
(know that it may be cold there).

We can be privy to visions of greater circumstance
without opening our chests to the beats of others and, often, do.
(A drum, after all, is a hum, spoken.)

The thing is that the end is here with us
and we are coddling its resolve
since taking a leap towards an oncoming fist
would taste too much like copper.
So we recline our chairs
into open spaces
to profess the rights of monsters,
helping to file the very teeth that bite us
because we feel too intelligent to be unfair,
too frail to finger the contours of a rabid insecurity.
(Remember, the keys are on the floor now.)

Meanwhile, it’s almost Fall
and the sky is blue
and some streams of dark crimson trickle into the gutter, quietly,
or is it loudly?
(Some of we can’t recline into space without falling like comets.)

You see, there are greater angels to what we live.
And though we may not hear their flight
through those trajectories carved by arrows in the sky,
they are right above us
weaving tapestries of blood
so that we may create smoke clouds
when burning rightly,
or is it brightly?
(A drum is a sigil, unheard.)
A woman
here with
free speech
inured law
that once
was her
rift but
a fiddle
found her
midriff and
her chihuahua
growled like
a snake
yet saved
her much
aligned in
love again.
Jerrad Johnson Apr 2017
The sheep are swimming in the Nile; they must be living in denial!
Denial is our best friend, the constitution we must amend!

Guns are our mortal enemies; their only use is to commit felonies
To stop these tragedies, we must impose harsher penalties!

There is no wolf, we will not die; there’s no need to put your life on the line
Sheepdogs are for the paranoid, those who live in a void

Remove the sheepdog and the enemy goes away, to happiness this is the true way
Ban the wolf with a no trespassing sign, surely we’ll be fine

Respect and common courtesy, the wolf will live in harmony
Close our eyes and he goes away, all we have to do is pray

Our herd used to be bigger; we don’t ask questions as long as our denial can deliver
Until our children are in the fire, then the sheepdog we require

But the sheepdog is out of practice, we fired him for “malpractice.”
Ruined by us, he looks no better than us – but he’s not like us

The sheepdog is weak; his sheep made him an antique
But his mind is strong and he’s eager to **** the evil and wrong

Wolves are predators, feeding on the weak; it’s denial they seek
The sheep will never fight, but pray the sheepdog is able to take up their plight
From my book, "Aimless Wanderer"
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1544626347
If she wants a share
here with me now in her race
a coulter forsake her in a cloud
still wager a bet that she's fair
while her attire endow couture
that taxi her runway bare with ESP
even in suburb scroll her flair
a doctrine extraordinar in between
these sheets with me in boudoir.
Free Speech
Swanswart Aug 2016
I bought myself a gun today.
I’ll give you a moment to process the mental paper work.
Is he serious?
Is this guy for real?
Is this a metaphor? Is it loaded?  

Are these questions
you might ask?
Isn’t this supposed to be a poem?

I said I bought myself a gun today.
Do you feel better?
Safer?
Do I
seem more dangerous?
Are my words more weighted now--
with violence?
with virility?
with *******?
Are you looking at my crotch
for an extra bulge?
How do you feel
about me now
knowing that I’m packing?

I bought myself a gun today,
And just like that
I’m a gangsta upholding the second amendment.
I’m a citizen of the constitution
holding up my right
to bear arms,
and raise my hand in a fist--
a fist, that’s gripped in tension
a fist that’s an extension
           of man and invention
           and I really should mention
          I can blow your ******* head off
          without the slightest intention.

I bought myself a gun today,
Are you scared:
that I don’t know how to use it?
That it might want to use me?
That I might become
overwrought with emotions,
and respond to an argument
“Arnold” style with, an,
   “I’ll be back?”--
that I might settle things
once and for all
with my noisy neighbor
in a language he might finally understand?
Are you scared?

I bought myself a gun today.
Does that make you worry?
You know what the statistics say,
That I have a better chance of shooting
myself,
than some intruder,
or mugger, or ******
or therapist even.
Are you worried about my self-destruction?
that I might I might accidentally
have an
accident?
Or, maybe, you may think,
that it might be on purpose?
that I might be singing
the, “Barrel-in-the-mouth blues?”--
not just fantasizing
about ‘em,
but singing ‘em with a with my mouth wide open,
and feeling them for real for real:
feeling the cold steel ‘cross
my tongue,
choking
on the taste of cordite,
really singing, “I can’t breathe,”
and how much
this ***** and having
the means to put and end to it all--
Are you worried about that?
If you are
then don’t,
‘cause I’m not thinking about that at all.

I bought myself a gun today.
Wouldn’t it be great
if we all could say:

I bought myself a gun today.
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