By Arcassin Burnham
Too young for the devil's nectar, don't worry I hate it anyway,
selfish pain overwhelms me plenty
to get that chance to stay,
inside the dark corridors of
my mind i can't obtain,
to find a different love,
gone for hours as a way to hide my shame,
it was all over once you got to me,
and it was all over from the start,
it was all over once my life got crushed,
is it too late to fix my heart,
i found a way to get to my destination,
writing my life in an illustration,
it was all over,
i'm saying it was over.
Summer's here, a time for shorts and thoughts of wine and gardens of beer
filling tables under umbrellas shielding the afternoon sun
where even in the North, rays can penetrate clouds and penetrate clothes and turn the pale peeling red, turning the air blue with verbose vernacular
Summer's here, a time for acres of flesh spilling over optimistic sized waistbands and ostentatiously tattooed torsos of symbols and kid's names, football teams and lovers and ex lovers and lovers of ecstasy.
Summer's here, a time for bouncy castles and burning meat on grills with various vegetarian options and wet lettuce salads, listening not to ballads but booming bombastic beats for free for neighbours delight or despair.
Summer's here for the urban spaceman and wonderwoman, for dogs and cats and birds in trees, tweeting if you please high on seeds from garden centre gardens in the suburbs for all your green fingered needs.
Summers here for a few months in name only if we're lucky or plucky to forecast days without rain with no pain but gain but maybe insane to believe that will ever happen on windswept islands off mainland Europe.
Summer's here for the good of all with it's Vitamin D and it's calmer sea with long light days where SAD can vanish into the ether with other seasons and HAPPY can be achieved on this evolving, revolving planet with a PMA and luck and love and peace to you all.
I was the last served from the dish of good luck
Where I sat at the table of life
The man before scraped the residual muck
From the plate with the edge of his knife
But the last shall be first, and so I was served
The primary course of mishap
I could not comprehend how I had deserved
Such a rich and luxurious scrap
How can one poor person consume such a feast
Of mischance as allotted to me
Others would sink in despair, at least
To see fate their forsworn enemy
I've been told to make her fall in love
It would require much laughter
Yet each time she laughs
It is me who falls
Through our journey
Pain will ensue
But our strength
Can take on anything
Thrown our way
See, I promised I'd reach
The part of her
That's she swore
She wouldn't give to anyone.
Did you ever just lay awake?
If you haven't, I'm sorry.
If you haven't been kept awake from your dreams
Or lost a wink from the anxiety of unknown
I don't think you're doing life right.
The feeling of being exhausted
kept awake by all the forces in your head
It's awful but it's in moments like this
You remember how wonderful being alive is.
I hate waking up in a scared sweat.
I'm more relieved my nightmares slide away.
How many times have you died in a dream?
It's not as many as you'd think,
If you really thought about it I mean.
I've heard it's good luck though.
I'm afraid of winning the lottery in my unconscious
It may be the worst real luck I ever see.
Whatever the case, you're doing great
If you're on top of the world,
Soar as far as that streak runs you.
If you're in a terrible slump,
Rock that pit like a champ.
Don't ever stop being,
Simply being whatever you are.
Damn it's perfect.
Why do so many people mold themselves
Don't do it. Be happily, you.