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Benji James Jan 2018
He's lurking in the shadows
with bloodshot eyes
A smell of bicardi and wine
I'll put down the knife
When these images
Stop playing on my mind

No, no I'm not afraid to die
I'm on the road to hell
But I don't care, OH!
Smoke another cigarette
And kiss your lips
Back to the room
And it's time for *** OH!
This is my escape
This is how I deal
To make believe these issues aren't real, OH!

You don't know
What the hell I've seen
And you ain't been
To the places, I've seen
You ain't heard the screams
You ain't see it every night in your dreams
The violence, the anger
Blood is running down these curbs
Insanity in motion please observe

No, no I'm not afraid to die
I'm on the road to hell
But I don't care, OH!
Smoke another cigarette
And kiss your lips
Back to the room
And it's time for *** OH!
This is my escape
This is how I deal
To make believe these issues aren't real, OH!

Let me paint a picture, clear
Place my voice inside of your ear
Hear the whispers that I call
For what you thought you know
You never knew at all
And there are voices carries within the winds
And demons have been asked to spread their wings
Eerie vibes are running down your spine
You try to dissect the world line by line

No, no I'm not afraid to die
I'm on the road to hell
But I don't care, OH!
Smoke another cigarette
And kiss your lips
Back to the room
And it's time for *** OH!
This is my escape
This is how I deal
To make believe these issues aren't real, OH!

©2018 Written By Benji James
The last trailing tendril filaments
of moon beams nocturnally trace
fashion an illusory gilded chariot Ark,
whence upon celestial runners,

the approach of dawns early light
illuminated terrestrial space which
nebulous solar city flanges revisited
since time millennial hubbub of human

race nsync with Zodiacal constellations,
which appear to shift as planet Earth
axis place alternated in accordance
with inexplicable universal teenage

mutant Ninja turtles joint pact with
power rangers assumption sans
quotidian play station remotely
controlled by aliens upon oblate

spheroid figurative stage set whence
commencement nudged village
people foment quiet riot rage and
rant against uncontrollable catastrophic
frenzy, when cosmic creator rehearses

another page from playbook, which
color coded cobbled Bible
emanates with radiant hues of yellow
and osage nonetheless, no mortal

adept to predict (only within plus
and/or minus some marginal variance
of error). oft times punishing
atmospheric phenomena incarcerated,

pistol whipped (if anther incorrect),
whip lash unleashed, oppressed,
imposed challenging condition flora
and fauna could thrive, whereat most
hardy plants and animals didst abound

linkedin upon terra firmae asper a
murmur of orchestrated organisms
found plentiful glory vis a vis La'Chaim;
gnome hatter outlook required sprinting

thru uber vanguard, where zero sum
game pitted disadvantaged Feng Shui
living things poorly sparred mismatched
against it ching attired egghead, kickstarting

netzero beastie boys indeed emulating
hotmail prodigies holding greensward
ground. scrimmage fostered, elicited,
dictated, commandeered nature going full

throttle with pings across biological labyrinth
positioning glommed, peeved, mis tweeted
seeds of life, and white lily, within soil lent
green grubby business whereby herb and

woody stemmed recalcitrant proto flings
wrote toe root er bakers gave Gaia a run
for her money to buy Buffalo wings chasing
miscreants nimbly outwitting, out-rigging

outsmarting nettlesome stings, and sage
protuberant fungi, released messengers
where rise home spore ports left nada
mushroom, though symbiosis wood
bark a roll a cord gingerly sidestepping traps.
Adrianne Toles Jul 2017
It'd be great
To not feel stupid for caring.
It'd be great
Not to be put on top of the world
And then left there
On
     A
        Very
                Thin
                        Tightrope...
It would be amazing
To have something more
         C o n s i s t e n t
Than water
And more solid
Than anything known to man.
It'd be breathtaking to have my breath taken
And returned
Rather than left gasping
For an air that
Only
        Ever
                Felt
                       Okay to breathe
With you.
But it would be tragic for me
To write these words with an unbridled hope for
Those great things
         And those amazing things
     And those wonderful things
               And those breathtaking
Things.

All because its a comedy
To think you care.
I couldn't explain the title if I tried it just feels fitting for my experience with the subject if this poem. It's been a while since I've written anything so please tell me how I did.
leolewin Jun 2017
What if people valued connections over wealth?

What if you didn’t need to worry about nutrition to have health?

What if humanity was the first time the earth had cancer? And with every brick the tumour grew.

What if we’ve gone too far, way beyond repair. 



What if…
TS Mar 2017
Today is but a day, for yesterday was a day, as tomorrow is another day, so what for today?
Today is now, in the moment.
Today is in real time, no wondering, and no remembering.
It is happening as you read this.
So today is not life, nor death, but it is everything you think it can be, or it is but just another day, we call today.
Cate Mar 2017
Suddenly... Your idea of someone is shifted...irreparably, so it seems. At first. At the least. Maybe over time you'll forget, somewhat. That is to say, whatever disappearing moment may transition into a partial, fickle memory.
You will recall it, inconveniently, possibly with slight inconsistency, and they will claim, should you choose to mention it, some sort of factual discrepancy.
It may well hover, all the way to the end of your personal eternity, and it may go unnoticed, covered by each new epiphany, layering in thin, single coats to be reminiscently noticed as a shadow.
No matter how deep into someone's secrets you may go,
There is always more to know.
        
          There is always more to know.

2.23.2017
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