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Jordan Gee May 21
God made me into a marionette
He pulled me from the dust
He scooped me out of coals.
He breathed life into my belly
and now they call me animated earth.
He carved my bones from alabaster stones
long buried under piles of pine needles and leaves
He sang songs of Light and Life
and put them in my ears
and taught me all the words
and cut me silver keys.
now i stand up tall
like the Lighthouse of Alexandria
or the Colossus of Rhodes
i take showers under jungle waterfalls
full of orchid petals
and with angel fish climbing up the rock walls.
my head and all my limbs are hanging by
golden silken strings and threads
and where I walk the moss and lichens grow.
He fashioned my eyes from glass
blown over the hot geysers
and sulfur springs
of thermopylae
and the salt basin dunes.
He plucked my pupils from the pregnant blackness
of the Void.
He struck them over steel and flint
and the sparks made it bright enough to see.
my heart is a time-piece
keeping minutes with its beats
like a great shadow cast behind a sphere.
the elements once kept me apart from me my identity,
I was a hungry ghost
walking around town like a hypodermic voodoo doll.
everytime I turned around
I tripped over another basket full of rattlesnakes
hissing from both ends.
I gave up and crossed my heart
and gave it over to the chemical egregore
hoping I would die while somehow staying alive
and learning how to fly away home-
so i could leave all the piles of ashes and teeth alone
and maybe plant a rose garden.

but God made of me a marionette
strung me up from strings of silken gold.
He breathes for me,
and dances me to the music of the spheres
and now the whole planet is a
Hanging Garden of the Fallen Babylon
and now I keep snakes
as exotic pets
and as company
when i’m lonely
and for afternoon tea.
I am suspended
Man Feb 2021
she said she couldn't believe i was real
but really, i was made in a lab
where they proded and poked
till this thing came out!
want me to do a little dance for you!?
balance on my dome?
swallow a sword?

find an exit off the interstate
hiraeth Sep 2020
postpone the bitter trip
until he relapses
a grown-up kid
averting the bumblebees
he‘s cluttered with
Guntang Aug 2020
fate’s whispered needles
time’s silent puddle
life’s fading whispers
in a snow-beam
basil Apr 2020
we try to stitch
each other up
with dull needles

and still gasp
in surprise
when we start to
bleed
raggamuffin (n.)-- a person, typically a child, dressed in ragged clothing.

04.30.2020
Thomas W Case Mar 2020
I'm a hard blood draw
sticking me over again
just like ******* life.
I'm in the hospital, and I'm a hard stick.  On average it takes them about 5 times to get the I.V in or a blood draw.
Brian Johnson Dec 2019
I saw a needle making love with it's self within a field of poppies, egotistical in it's savagery, swirling within a storm of love filled lies. I watched in wrapt amazement seemingly drawn to the promise of a world thought unobtained, a world only in dreams, I drank the sweet nectar of the gods as the poppies cried their tar, bringing an ****** of lies cries a loneliness that brought a beauty one could only dream. Conspiring confusion as I dove deeper into dillusion where freedom was shackled thoughts perpetually repeating until thought became obsession no matter the consequences. Alone in my thoughts, injecting more lies I silently follow further into the the desolate terms of this silent contract.
Another rambling off the cuff. Words play off words play off feelings off thoughts off words
kevin Oct 2019
Mind's a whirlwind
Of needles and pins
Scrapped up
From the crafting station
Down in the basement
A homely mix
Of cotton fabrics
Flowing in the wind
Of imagination
kevin Sep 2019
The truth is
I don't want to ever stop thinking about you
But I have to
Or else I won't fall asleep at night
Or if I do
I'll dream only of your eyes
I don't want to think of you like that

And at some point
One of us has to look away
The world won't stop spinning
For our less than platonic moments
We need to move on
You surely seem to have no trouble
But I can't tear my gaze away
From your retreating form

Those glimpses I catch
Of you sitting in class
Might as well be poison
Injected straight into my veins
The softness of your hair
The outline of your face
Is a drunk tattoo in the front of my brain
One I can't erase

You're my heroine
Take or leave the "e"
And I might be a willing addict
But I'll go to rehab eventually
I'll force your face to fade
Covered up with inky flowers
Scattering my legs

I'll leave your eyes
Turquoise and green
You can watch me from the bushes
Peeking out from between the leaves
Like a fairytale character
I bet I'll wonder who you were
And what you meant to me
Title stolen from Justin Courtney Pierre. If this is secretly another cover I don't know about... Educate me, Captain.
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