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Di Verce Sep 19
"You come from a place of hurt," he said
In the movie.
"That's our fault. I'm sorry," he said
In the movie.
Only in movies
Do people have hearts.
No one has ever said they're sorry.
Not once.
Reality.
In reality
They blame you
Shame you
Silence you
They hate you
It's all your fault
They're perfect
Perfect love
Perfect love that doesn't care about your pain
The pain they cause
They never apologize
Only in movies
As fake as they are
Thom Jamieson Dec 2018
I am already dead,
just too lazy
and apathetic
to make it official.
I am already dead.
Thom Jamieson Nov 2018
In every direction, to the limits of sight
Squirrels
Scrambling to fill their cheeks
With treasures to sustain
The coming sleep
In every corner, of every block
Squirrels
Frantic, pacing, scouring ground
For imaginary ignitable jewels
Dropped in a dream the night before
Down the paths of affluence
Opulent interests guarded with teeth
Squirrels
Frenzied hoarding for more
Smart black top-coat,
Covering a shiny shell,
On stiff skids of leather
And an armor of importance
Spitting orders, to the others
To forage and pillage,
And steal the nuts
To fatten and fan the
Flames of false dignity
And good intention
Inside holes hidden deep.
I love squirrels, the furry kind.  I carry peanuts in my pocket at all times should I see one.  They are simple, non-judgmental, and what you see is what you get.  I love squirrels, the furry kind
Sweetly reaching for my hand
A rattlesnake curls up in yours.
Smiling oh-so-carefully
To hide your poison pellet
Delivered with a kiss.

Platitudes and honeyed words
With fishhook barbs inside them.
Lies disguised as candy bars
Offered out with sticky fingers
Mostly crossed behind your back.

Promising that all is peaceful
And there’s no danger to be seen.
Alarms and sirens drown those words
And say my world is burning here,
And sinking in a morass there.

If only words were scimitars
To slash a way to truthfulness
And cut the evil from the hearts
That proclaim love for one and all
And secretly deliver hate.
ljm
Speaks for itself.
Brent Kincaid Sep 2016
It's the path to righteousness
Put a five dollar bill in the plate
Then be as iniquitous as you like
And your life will turn out great.
Put in a buck or two, maybe more
It's a method known since 1147
In an urchin's hand and you score.
Anyone can buy their way into heaven.

It's the fake as hell, flaky as well
Bend and stretch Holiness Twist.
Do what you like, namecall a ****
Cleanse with a twist of your wrist.
Donate a dime, go commit a crime
To church Sunday, be Jesus kissed
Suddenly resurrected, sins deflected
You're an ace at the Holiness Twist.

Appearances are most important
In the big holiness game of life.
You have to have the big house
The big car and flashy wife.
You have to have the perfect lawn
With the current rage of shrubs.
You have to wear the right clothes
And belong to the right clubs.

But the biggest thing to accomplish
To keep from seeming totally odd
Is you have to have the right and
Obvious choice for your god.
It has to be the right kind of stuff;
It can't be Eastern unless it started
Back when there were miracles
Like when the waters parted.

It's the fake as hell, flaky as well
Bend and stretch Holiness Twist.
Do want you like, namecall a ****
Cleanse with a twist of your wrist.
Donate a dime, go commit a crime;
In church Sunday, be Jesus kissed
Suddenly resurrected, sins deflected
You're an ace at the Holiness Twist.
This was triggered by Paul Gaffney's feedback to another of my poems. Thanks, Paul!
Alan S Bailey Aug 2016
In life you are a total nobody if you aren't:

A "socialite superstar" who sacrifices moral for popularity
A tech freak
A work-a-holic
A married man or woman (opposite *** only!)
An insensitive "cowboy"
A confederate flag sympathizer (incomparable to ******, I guess)
A religious fanatic
Someone who is so open minded they are open to bad or EVIL
Rich as hell
Extremely violent or purposefully "unaware of bullies"
Anyone who graduated with honors (3.5 or higher, please!)
Certain everyone should work and/or drive
Covered by expensive life insurance
Popular with dozens of "honest friends"
A gun owner who doesn't believe in the need for regulation
A cigarette smoker (but *** is a "bigger devil!")
Hating cross dressers
A nudist hater
Built with a six pack
Absolutely certain that every hippy is "the devil"
A nature hater
Willing to **** anything that moves (they are the pests)
Giving away all natural love for money
One who loves to go to war, a.k.a. "gung-**"
Gifted with perfected teeth
One to ignore the "little lower people" at work/school
A "brown noser," trying to even out-do your mentors
A cheeky person obsessed with being manager (I'm #1!)
Poised to kick someone out on a moments notice (no hustlers here!)
Always on "mommy" and "daddies" side, even if they went too far

The list goes on and on, but you need to be most of these to succeed!
It's a long list! So many sharks! So little care about them...
Alan S Bailey Jan 2016
He's so perfect! He's a great guy to bring home,
He has a fast, expensive car, he works at a good job,
He's got his own backyard, a house all his own,
He's got a lot of "decent" connections,
He's always around to be a wisest leader,
Loves to take you down if you failed inspections,
He's just so perfect!

And so this is what "real love" is all about. *How unrealistic.
rants, rants, Sorry if I sound nuts. Just tired of these people everywhere in the west. But hey! That's California for you!
Alan S Bailey Jan 2016
I am the cleanest, most thoughtful
Most caring one around that I know
Not giving one selfish desire my time,
Only hard working, dedicated and here
To be there to keep things in line,
So feel free to give me extra criticism,
To make me "walk on egg shells,"
I try so hard, I'm just so poor,
But who cares, I'm the worst because
Of some stupid argument at a door.
WARNING: this poem is REAL content. Yea, a rant poem. Won't get more than 20-50 views...but at least I'm writing down "the bones," what's actually on my mind, instead of what phony material OTHERS want to read.
brixton bell Dec 2015
i keep my soul hidden now beneath scattered tattered notebook paper pieces in outdated shoe boxes & deep between the covers of books, crisply underlined & strong- strong there, only there, with those words. most days i wake praying for rain; that tender soft world which it provides me with, drowns out the ever constant hum of traffic, arguing, the war on television, the growing sigh of humanity.

here i am.

I’m driving down some typical road all the roads look exactly the same here the streetlights passing by one by one by one. counting patterns in the road & I’m watching the swarm of black birds hanging over the highway; they’re swimming in their own way; kissing the sky & diving back down. that comfortable feeling of breaking skin
my blood may be the most priceless thing i own & maybe it’s for that reason i want to ruin it.
brixtonbell.com
check out my website for more writings.
Ormond Oct 2015
Newbie to this lathe
Don't wince at expositions
See lame gits as dust
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