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Sleight of hand combined with misdirection
so you miss the moth eaten crushed velvet
of my finest stage jacket,
the flop sweat beneath the powder
I gesture to the monument of worries
towering behind me

With flamboyant flare
Presto!
The monolith of my life’s troubles
is no longer there!

You are right to give slack jawed applause
and question my technique,
just don’t peek behind the curtain
beyond the mirrors where it
all still teeters

Until the lights go out, I’m cured
Here we stand on the edge of extinction
Shaking fists at the sun
Snarling through clinched teeth
And casting fault for the burnt flesh
We chose not to shield.
Ignorance is its own antagonist.
cmp Jun 2020
though without substance or inertia its evident
that grace of time steadily loop our scripted creek
hence no matter departure time or boarding means
we're all settled in one phenomenal life raft
Dean K Mar 2019
I’m sorry that you have to be my little secret
Everybody’s sleepin but you were deceivin
Late night creepin
As my door was creakin I just watched you creep in
I could not believe it, can you sense the feelin
It’s the season, everybody’s freezin
You needed somethin to believe in
I’m a heathen, lies I told you had you cheezin
Probably makes you wonder what else I’ve been keepin
Jabin Aug 2018
His left hand flourishes
                                                                But­
The audience watches intensely
                                                       ­     There
The motions dazzle
                                                          ­          Is
Everyone paying attention
                                                   Something
Unexpected
                                                               Else
The illusion is shattered
                                                 Transpiring

           The magician takes a bow.
a contortionist
that dies
with candy
in hand
was vexed
in vanguard
and settled
improvisie with  
flavor in
his lore
with a
spoon registerEd
delight and
never would  
discriminate trouble
with women
in awe
Poetic T Apr 2017
I held it momentarily at my throat gliding
it effortlessly as it permeated in tears of release.

You should have known this was coming,
the signs were there, but I couldn't keep it
hidden. I released the blade upon my throat.

I held it momentarily, then cleansed myself
of a burden that had hung there far to long.

You should have seen your tears in the mirror,
that part of me now gone. Laying on the ground
crumbled lifeless, A history of growth now fallen.
When the beard has to go its got to go it itched so bad....
D L Smith Jan 2017
Obviously there has been some misplaced affection, a slight calculation of misdirection. See there is so much attraction yet your actions tell me you're only looking for attention. Not to mention your constant desire for attention, puts me in a position where I have to make a decision...

You aren't worth the mental condition, the constant strain to make sure you are alright to function, because with you there is no assumptions, especially with your depression.

I won't let it become an obsession that has possession over my mind.

I've got my own distractions, got my own reactions, I have my own complexion, my own limitation.

My own corrections, to every day life.
My own explanations, that give reasons to this.

Though every bit of preparation could not prepare me for this feeling still. The want to have motivation, the want to be apart of a beautiful creation. The need to feel great appreciation, the need to have greater expectations.

The world has ever only been a depressing gravitation, putting every bit of joy at mass extinction. There are always going to be hesitations to do what makes us happy.

There will forever be misdirections on our paths, unavailable to direct corrections.

I only have one question, of a simple fashion, where did you come from, my beautiful misdirection.

D. L. Smith 1/16/2017
Not death

Breathe slow

Past coil

Jealous?

We don't know

Sad as plain sight

Fake intents

Misdirection and dense

Regrets for tomorrow

Until the demon runs

Mind will be blank

Conscious without reprimand

Disgracing self

And projected shadows

Into millenium of words

That trick only inside

Gross and perfect

Figured somewhat insect

Fear of movement

Ready to read

Never to explore

A monster that is a bore

No true faces

Just stolen ink

Anger in three ports

Without the eyes to close

Ever so unsubtle

Render one cold

With love as slow as shell

Until they grow the verdure fungus
No to rhyming?
Steven Forrester Aug 2016
Sitting here
And pondering
Wondering
Why?

Merrily
Or cheerily
Yet I still want to die

My face is smiles
Happy
And misleading

My heart is fractured
Lacerated
And bleeding

My mind is buzzing
And words are whirling
Swirling
Twirling my thoughts
To delusions of grandeur

I sit
Detached
Maybe confused
Not sure what to do

Does anyone else feel this way?
Do you ever just
Wish it would end?

Do you ever look at your life
And think.
What have i done?

For me
At least
I have these
To ease
Those thoughts of nothingness

Though i am not famous
Or rich
Or even that well known

My words are profound
My thoughts are now focused
My poetry
And notoriety
Rising

My heart
My soul
My drive
My will
This day
I feel
And deal
This wheel
Of life
Or strife
A mighty blow
Although
My heart

Is screaming.
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