The hype of Sun
Grasp of fear
Sounds of gun
My eyes shed tear

The dark forest
Dense and deep
Memories to rust
Yet I try to keep

Experiment wrong
By the unknown
You are so gone
I silently mourn

Now they hunt
As me, the other part
Hide, I can't
They have thrown me apart

A failure you turned
For them at night
Your body burned
They satisfied alright

I survived, now on run
Changes in me I find
For them am fun
But am no more of their kind

An invisible change, I habit
Camouflage adaptation
I have changed bit by bit
For this nation

Tho, all alone to fight
The experiment, I sworn
It will be their horrific plight
Till I see the next dawn...

©sim

I will not tell you anything that is wrong
My ****** expressions and tones will not betray
I will keep this up, I don't know for how long
I guess I'll keep doing this till you see I'm okay
Deep down I think you think I'm a lot to handle and I'm sorry.
I'm going to be the worlds most fake person and see where it gets me.

In the end it doesn't matter if I get my **** touched or my **** ******
Get permission to lip little kisses on your hip skin, kiss that ****
It turns out I can please myself, with my mouth, only the wall's help

Submissions to the Annual Musical Torture Experiment for 2017 are officially open!

Submit your five songs by emailing them to
TorturePlaylist@gmail.com

"BUT WHAT IS THE MUSICAL TORTURE EXPERIMENT NICK?"

Well me, I'm glad you asked.
The Musical Torture Experiment was started in 2013 by yours truely, Nicholas R Coulombe.
Where I asked everyone I knew, met, or saw on the street, to hand me 5 songs that I would add to one playlist,
listen to that playlist on a loop
AND NO OTHER MUSIC
for an entire month.

I have continued this tradition each year
recruiting Willing victims & voulenteers
to listen along with me.

These victims have many different lives, interests, and genre preferences,
but there is one thing they all have in common.

The blissfull escapism of living in their headphones.

This gaggle of Tune-heads who use their music as a fundamental life resource, a coping mechanism, an escapist fantasy or meditation.
These people offer their body and spirit to music.

Now, for a whole month, they are relinquishing control of their music.

Shotgun no longer shuts their piehole.

For an entire month.
Listeners will not be able to skip or select any music other than
YOUR SUBMISSIONS!

This is the perfect opportunity to force someone to really find whats so amazing about those artists we culturally hate.
Or maybe theirs an oldy that your grandkids Refuse to consider music because there is static or twangy voices instead of bass drops.

Maybe you talk about your love of skrillex and a hipster spits their kombucha in your face.

If you have songs that DESERVE the light of day.
This is your chance to indulge in their exhibition.

want to voulenteer yourself as tribute to listen along with these crazy *******?
keep tabs on what is being added cause you think its kinda interesting?
Or contribute YOUR five songs?

Just
Send an email to TorturePlaylist@gmail.com
by the end of August to participate!

Go check out the playlist itself here:

https://open.spotify.com/user/124409443/playlist/2TAdzDUKx7sfW1uJrqMS7K

Pray the rain won't spoil your picnic
As you scan the morning sky
Take an extra rainproof poncho
To keep the picnic table dry.

As you scan the morning sky
Look for red clouds in the East
And recall the Sailor's warning.

Take an extra rainproof poncho
Maybe an umbrella too
And one of those big blue tarpaulins

To keep the picnic table dry
Then have faith that God still loves you
And the sun will shine all day.
                       ljm

There is no cure, no fix, no magic spell.
I am an aberration, as you know.
I never promised you a villanelle.

You cannot trap the ocean in a shell.
You feed the roses blood to make them grow.
There is no cure, no fix, no magic spell.

It does get bumpy on this carousel.
The ride is all extremes of high and low.
I never promised you a villanelle.

I was the aberration, you could tell.
I ******* my neuroses in a bow.
There is no cure, no fix, no magic spell.

I think it's safe to say you know me well
in all my many masks, but even so
I never promised you a villanelle.

Let me pin my ragged heart to your lapel.
If it's truly what you need, I'll let you go.
There is no cure, no fix, no magic spell.
I never promised you a villanelle.

Tell me right now.
Truthfully, my ravaged nerves;
Talk much. Rather not,
Tales merry- running noiselessly;
Through merciless river nights.
Tell me right now.
Too many readied "no"'s
Trusting Malice. Reserved? Never.