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Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
My bed is double functional
I use it to make love on
And it is where my mind becomes extracted from my body and goes to planes of potent virtuosity
Where the sheer sound of self-reflection is an incredible pleasure
The body, a conveyor of material wants and superfluous desires is left behind in puzzled abandonment
But the mind does not lament
It blasts out of the squaller of the western world and all of its heavy reliance on demystified theatrics and the attempts of restoring a cleavered generation gap
The mind’s finesse and savage grace carry it to a hypnotic river of awareness and comprehension
The river bed is self-continued
The latency stage is over, all indications point forward to end the played out injustice of self-deprivation , run with fluidity and quit the life of a spectator
Then, pool into the communal crown
Where we are all holy royal
Where we are all enrolled enthusiasts of freedom from one’s own shackles of doubt and shame
The corrupt coercion is out of favor and now we've assembled without the fear of involvement
For we've been in play since we crawled out of the womb
But it is now that we have decided to speak
And this drastic turnover is first and foremost and idea, no more no less
Not a law
Not a war
Not a religion
Not and organization or a political party
It is an idea to let the mind wander and find independence
Independence from the body, the world and all the smoke and mirrors that pollute it daily
Then grab the vibrations of positivity in terms of thought and action then touch with an extension of personality
So go, live in your uptight, delightful, tangible world and dispel this theory
I’ll stay here sitting astride this moot point
      -Tommy Johnson
Tommy Johnson Mar 2014
Guiltlessness
Swallowed my pride and chased it with scotch
I’m here to collect my belongings

Hungry foxes
Emaciated
Crawling into the hen house

Built this stress
Out of bricks of procrastination
Boards of uninterest
Blocks of hesitation

Go forth, don’t forget your pen and paper
It’s either now or later

Trusting rivers
The earth is moving
While I unleash truths from a cigar box

Contemplate
Answering the questions
That you were too afraid to ask

Go back, and rewrite the letter
It’s either then or never
James Palmer May 2014
My mind is polluted
My thoughts, convoluted
Overwhelmed by your desires.
If you really wanna burn your bridges
Then you're gonna have to start some fires.

I've got plenty of room
For many more scars
That I may or may not regret,
But I lack space
For memories
And consequently, forget.

If clocks decide to leave minutes behind
And begin counting sins,
Would the hands move any slower?
Would you find heaven within?
Kay Meraz May 2014
they were the different kind.

every time I saw one, i wanted to see how it felt like... to be lust.

how did it feel when he pressed his hands against my chest?

was is different?
or
did it make you feel worse?      
It was almost always, the latter.

Still I wandered off in my mind, and i let it take me places,  
that would make you question my sanity.

was it real when the warmth of his lips thawed my cold heart?

It got exhausting, for my mind only went so far.
I forgot why.
and.
I'm sorry,
what was the
question again?
F.R.S inspired me.
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
I got no more ***** on my arms, vaginal schemes and gospel psalms. Very private skinny tribes, lit up with oversized black lights. In the very end, everybody walks this way, they all move like idioms, they all wanna be lit up like stars. Some could be prevalent like cascading dreams, nauseous just like mesquite BBQ baby-back wings.

Fly away little bird, fly away. But don't try to leave
Or you won't get paid.

I know very well, just what kinda caption your capsaicin
Can be, lit up like honey blunts, golden stars on top of your christmas tree. Strawberry Swisher Sweets, Blueberry Dunhill flavors, poke your hand through the fence, make friendly on your neighbors. If you like Kimmel Live, Conan at Midnight too, recipes for the zombies, SS ****** Youth. Blow-up and be a party. Get off work and drink your check. Get down, get off- I'll show you. Just how Martin pays the rent.
lina S Apr 2014
How does it feel ?
Tell me how does it feel
are you drowned in this world
have you forgot what it's supposed to be
Can you feel the world getting old
can you feel your soul shivering in its cold

how does it feel ?
Tell me how does it feel
are you searching for your gold
have you lost all your hope
Swallowed into a black hole
you're losing all control

tell me how does it feel
can you run away across the sea
Do you want to break out of your own skin
shed it all off to be free

Oh would you tell me how does it feel
how does it feel

Have you stayed up all the night
feel the hours passing by

how does it feel
do you see us getting old
still doing what we're told
Or are you sold into a dream

But your words are crumbling in your mouth
when you try so hard to shout
and nothing comes out

how does it feel
tell me how does it feel
does the world still seem real ?
Farida Salem Apr 2014
Today, I tried to comfort my 13 year-old self,
But there was nobody there, nobody listening.

It's so cold over there,
So lifeless and sad.
And come to think of it,
I'd rather be mad.

She cries in the middle of the night, hoping one day things would be different.
Then wonders "what if" and suddenly she's indifferent.
And there's nobody there, nobody listening.

I try to make this life as vibrant as can be
For her to finally see
That this is as good as it's gonna get
And that there's nothing she should regret.

But still she storms off in the middle of the night,
Screaming:
"Is anybody there, anybody listening?"
nia moreno Apr 2014
her spirit's broken,
scarred, and sore. she's too damaged
to care any more.
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