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Zero Nine May 2017
In darkness
My apartment
Lies lonely, low
Holding me
Blinds drawn
Sweating rust
Internally
Smothered
Thick dust
In darkness
My finger
Tips trace
Outlines
Of hearts
Xbox heating
PC heating
Waste in still water
Filling room
Want receding
Need retreating
Refuse of product
Parent made

How do I wager
My heart for cash?
Money get me out,
Imagine. How do I
Live or even leave,
When the past tucks
Me in, surrounds me?
....
Dakota May 2017
sleek nothingness,
a comforting nihilistic
home. everything is
possible, but nothing is
likely. flowers grow but
can’t be seen. the moon is
eclipsed. despair sounds like
it is the only option, but you
hear a calling from the void.
songbirds growl and you smile.
rain can only be felt, but is
welcomed. let your damp skin
peel off and let yourself drop
down, down to a fate you
trust will be preferable
to the life you are living
now.
my friend prompted me to write a poem about the color black without ever using the word and this was the result/
Derby Apr 2017
When I was three years old,
I came face-to-face with Allen Ginsberg for the very first time.

I hated him.

In my own little three-year-old way,
I thought he was a mean, rude, nasty, ornery old *******.
But when I turned twenty, I learned the truth:
He was a fearless, bold, no ******* old *******--- he wasn't the only one.

The world wasn't meant to be seen through rose-colored glasses,
but to be witnessed on our feet in the present and off our lazy *****.

Mankind was meant to live and die
in an adventure, seeking peace through trials of wrong and right,
not to bask in a stagnant bath, nor stop in the midst of a path
to a future bright, though out of sight,
for this is no way to thrive,
but to live and die a treacherous lie.

Here in the first world, we are afraid to suffer,
but eager to ****,
to conquer,
to ignore internal issues.
[Pay no mind to the men behind the curtain, the have their own agendas, and we allowed this--- we voted them in!]
We are afraid to be wrong,
but fearless to fight
a battle with no true end in sight.
We will never fix the problem,
nor repair the damage we create,
if we all just sit on down,
grab our egos and *******---
[Spoiler Alert:
There will be no ******, no explosions of mental ***, no parade, just *******, horseshit, and all the other **** that comes along when we bite off more than we can chew and still force it through our systems;
blow it out your ***** and let's get a move on,
we've got things to do and places to be!]

We talk in circles,
we talk of change,
we talk making a difference,
we talk in circles...
see what I'm say'n'?

Politicians are a sham,
Real people lose the race, whether slow and steady, or fastly-paced,
so they **** out of it all,
as they had no business running in the first place.

We the people are dis-

organized
and dYsFU[ckIng fu]nctIonal;
all too lazy to gang up and be the CHANGE we seek,
so we
file
in
line
and fight over our spots to sit in a seat on a ship sailing its way south
d
o
w
n
****'s-******'-Creek.

In twenty--- hell, thirty, forty, fifty years,
we've made little progress,
but we've got iPhones and Wi-Fi, and people going to Mars,
We've got technology never before imagined standard in our cars!
Now, ain't that just swell,
ain't that spectacular?
We're all going to hell
for ******* our own blood from our own ***** like an auto-fellating, narcissistical Dracular.

What do we do? Where do we go from here?

If Ginsberg, Bukowski, Poe, Dante, Plato, Socrates, Freud, ******, Christ, Caesar, Shakespeare, Lincoln, Lee, Brooks[1], Miller[2], my parents, Mr. Pete Rose, Franklin, all my friends, and a million other folks taught me anything,
it's that we're all *******,
we're all sinners,
we're all losers, occasional winners,
we're all *******,
we're all wrong, though sometimes right,
we all live,
we all die,
we've all got **** going on in our lives---
and what I've learned from all this,
was that I can do better,
YOU can do better,
we can ALL do better than we are doing right now,
that we are each unique, but we are no different from one another, we are human beings;
we can learn and teach, and we must do this always,
from day, through night and to each and ever other day.
But the most important lesson above all:
Don't be such a *****, whatever you DO do,
simply try to understand,
for all the world's fate is in our own
feeble, but hopefully growing hands.
[1]--refers to Mel Brooks
[2]--refers to Arthur Miller
Kado MacMurphy Feb 2017
to me spirituality is the best interest,
to me freedom is *******
to me freedom of expression is the hole in a dream
for wot u live for
eternity ,
is the essence of our contraption
that is not to overanalyze, or obstruct the notion but,
to me its to enjoy the buzz,
the chaos and all the ****** in the world today,
kids with holes in their bodies, like for what,
for me i jus sit back, like for what,
relax and dose ya mind into these aether waves,
my friends are cool,
they think im cool too,
i guess i am cool,
but to me my friends are fools,
and i am a fool cuz i listen to music like tool,
to me reality includes me,
i am connected to this density, 3D
dimensional awareness, master of frequency
my rhymes make stars vibrate from the skies,
my rythm moves through,
solid matter,  drink bleach
reconstruct a new eye view,
i always lie to myself for what i, for what i,
dont mentally grasp why,
never asked for a mind,
to comprehend gods and time and desire,
morality and math and planting the seeds of our demise,
no lies,
from me,
u only get uncensored reality.
Lesley Feb 2017
O'blessed Darkness cover me
Blanket the rushing words & flashing blurs;
The disjointed fragments of blinking walls,
Lights crashing off and on,
Blue, red, green-the marionettes dancing,
So many together and all alone.
It is all a show.

The hiccup of life, the vomiting dream.
I see my life before me;

A slush of goo,
The stink of this world,
Or is that the scallops & escargot?
What have you done to me?

Everything I do myself-
This dream, this life...
Why do I hurt myself so?

Punching mirrors, ***** on porcelain.
Dark, thick-
My throne for many minutes...

Time ticking, time ticking-
I was unaware.
My wooden box was silent,
My wooden life is tragic.

The voices through the walls,
Through the fog and haze-
You okay? You okay? You okay?

I croak a positive.
I have no steady legs-
When have I ever?
I have no:
stable brain
clear thought
decisive moment
steady action
fruitful journey-
All slipping through my fingers...
Like the vomitous goo of tonight.

Everything we have, we lose.
Owning anything is an illusion.
Holding on is meaningless.

I want to go home.

(Everything is nothing)

I want to go home

(there is no sense in anything)

i want to go home.

Please, hold me now.

*©Lesley Wood
To hear reading:
https://soundcloud.com/lesleywood/riding-the-nitsua-dragon
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