Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Steve May 30
Drinking away the cold reality,
sipping away at the truth,
smell of revolution in the air,
the township rebellion weeps,
radically violent love,
surpressing undignified hate,
**** the cop in yourself, stomp the ghosts in your head,
destroy your masters,
Sweet negation, oh sweet negation!,
Burn down the walls of infinite discontent,
Live your life,
Live for yourself,
The forever insurrection,
The creative nothing,
We are the unique,
Guillotine your captures,
Free your mind, free your body, free your beautiful life!
Her plan
with bantam
there shakes
subsequent arthritis
or foment
her albatross
when zion
mats superfluously
and poverty
now ungrateful
in their
Milwaukee suburbs
while her
ruby floss
allure in
her java
melts mine.
Law and/or lawyerly tone
Liam C Calhoun Feb 2016
When the “100” departed,
Four turned ‘round,
To carry on and away
From that bloodied dusk,
Sojourn and sought last Saturday.

It was a solemn evening, for even I,
Upon the scent of spent beer,
Soiled socks and job well done,
Albeit, half-assed, but good for me,
Since money’s the modern paradigm.

Beholden gallant, I returned to rebellion,
This satiated dish tantalizing the four,
And only four – painted traitors,
An opposition to the flock christened
“Listen” and assumed safer skies.

Souls atop intrepid –
The “4” would learn alone,
So whispered, “insurrection,”
Savoring a certain comfort in solitude,
A stiff chin come rules abundant others,
And freedoms never realized.

I’m sure they’ll fly, they’ll mate,
I’m sure they’ll die and fly once more
Whilst I smirk, smoke
And take note of the next fool
To forget the heavens and allowed,
Became the heathen’s promised.

It’s an epiphany’s echo as
The fall’s a salvation in and of itself
And the four’d that opted flounder,
Beyond an already withered earth,
Bet on fortunes unknown,
When they, themselves, were gems,
And certain paradises, lay in wait.
Are you one of "the Four?"

— The End —