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Inked Quill Oct 2018
I feel nothing now
My feelings are trapped inside
A machine called heart
A Simillacrum Oct 2018
I talk a lot about motion,
like I know a thing of progress.
Drop of water in the ocean.
Beautiful ripples of tragedy,
of comedy.

Nothing to it,
that's what we know.
We all know
the words and we go:

Tear into space,
terraforming,
ISO: a meaning higher than
all the lies we spin, just to gravitate.

I talk a lot about language,
communication's importance.
Did you know I only know one?
So, *******, I'm an *******.

Nothing to it,
that's what we know.
Developed
world depressives, go:

Tear into space,
terraforming,
ISO: a meaning higher than
all the lies we spin, just to gravitate.

We all go
to return
to one place.

We all shoot the farthest we've ever shot,
just to realize we're separate by margins
drawn by logos and emotion --
nothing to come will be made of much
but those two things, because
escape would be improbable.









(becomeasgodsbecomeasgodsbecomeasgods)
A Simillacrum Sep 2018
Pleasantries
to monkeys
checking
files in the
imagination
database.
What you want to hear
appears
before your eyes as wish
fulfill--
meant for a target,
the same
as its creator.
In words:
What we've come to call
"a heart missing a piece."
In words:
Easy marketing.
Pleasantries
to monkeys
surfing
cyber waves
for validation
constantly.
What would you like to hear?
What world would you create?
Tickets are 10 for $10, today.
Melo Sep 2018
Three am
A faint glow that steals me from my dreams
An eerie light, I stare with bloodshot eyes
I try to peel myself away but find no solace in my bed
The machine calls to me
It's inhuman humming floods my mind from rationality
Exhaustion appears at four
But sleep eludes me still
I scroll through the endless distractions to tire my brain with stimuli
The headphones now causing my ears to ring, harmonizing with the inhuman hum
The sound of the insomniac, I can almost make out the words
By five I have conceded
Pointlessly laying down while begging to the ether for at least an hour of rest
Six I pass out
Seven time to get ready for school
Discordia Huevo Sep 2018
Rays of light as the sun shines,
Kronos, long since awake for a glass of wine,
Knocks on the door echoes through the wood,
And there Bowen the bear stood.

"Good morning", Kronos cheered,
"To the forest!", Bowen endeared,
"What are we gonna do if I may ask?"
"To look for treasure will be our task!"

'This is my chance to seek Earth's treasure', Kronos thought,
Together they enter the forest without fraught,
The forest glow in vibrant green,
But not until they met an odd machine.
Morgan Mercury Aug 2013
Once I was a king loathed by my kingdom.
I was a machine built from the toughest iron nothing could break through.
I left my emotions to rust in the rain and murdered them in the cold night.
But I let my ego hold my strings and now I can't even treat a human right.
I meet a manic on the south side of town.
With a cane in hand and his mind locked in a birdcage since the war.
He was a maniac for trusting me and loving me and all my iron core.
I don't believe his tales for,
he is dead on the inside.
Departed from his heart,
He says he feels more alive this way.
With a cigarette in my hand, I hope for his life to never feel alone again.
Sherlock BBC
Sherlock/John
2013
Maxim Keyfman Jul 2018
works light
the machine is the same
through the forest
around the rain of ice
january rain

paper in cars
paper in the car
and the time transmits the signal
the lights are on
and the heart does not hold
more words from my

dark blue forest
dark blue forest
chopin sounds
a piano sounds
from oaks from trees
from a falling sunset

of that sunset
bright blue sunset
farther green
further dark green
what will take us away
in a great melody

which will take
us in the last way
in the last bright way
whom everyone was afraid of
everyone was afraid
and were saved escaped

lights work
works light
the machine is the same
through the forest through the moon
transparent
january rain

20.07.18
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