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I have tasted sweet waters
with crystalline honey and sugared petals.
I have tasted sour milk that curdles on my tongue,
that leaves me coughing.
I had wandered through the moors of purgatory
with eyes like an empty vase.
Once I found Arcadia,
Like Orpheus, I looked back.
Because how could I leave it all behind?
Red Aug 24
I buried a bird at sunset
To teach its elder’s some respect
As bundles of familiar feathers swooped
singing scornful songs of incomplete youth
I knew where they’d been at time of death.


I denied the cat the flightless fallen body
Siblings guarding silently as I tore up flower beds
With a piece of broken tile and old weeds left in a pile
Solemn is the hand that carves the final nest.


I buried them with nothing more than three sprigs of lavender,
& fluffy baby feathers splattered with dirt
I wished only empty bellied, good-hearted scavengers
Would carry them to a better nurturing earth.


Tucked into blankets of leaves and mud
I wondered what god they feared, if any
Tying twisted twigs together with reeds & blood
a wonky cross to tell the worms they’re ready.


Loud is the crying fowl that pushed the flightless
Like pitted berries bulging through drooling chins
A clumsy stork is unburdened by lightness,
like the absence of young wings in the wind.


I hope when I am weak in breath & bone
With no children nor chirping to mourn my vessel empty
Someone might lay me down with three sprigs of lavender & a stone

And wonder what god I feared, if any.
Jeremy Betts Jun 8
Everyone that has ever said that they love me
All those who've mentioned that I'm their one and only
That their desire is to be with me, hand in hand for our eternity
All those who've told me that they care about me deeply
But have otherwise only ever proven to be phony
Compassion is something never aloud to me
History is rewritten by present and past company
Because when it comes down to the nitty gritty
I'm just a stepping stone obviously
I mean hell, just look at my track record then back at me
Don't even need a degree in forensic diplomacy
Actions speak loudly
Leaving me stuck in an unwanted and completely unnecessary purgatory
But no one cares about a no guts, no glory type story
No one cares how their actions have affected my energy
Turning me, molding me into the evil reflection that won't stop staring back at me
All sides have proven extensively that I am unworthy of being wanted, forget loving unconditionally
All I've ever wanted was to be somebody's somebody
But everybody says the same thing to me openly
No friendly faces and behind their smiles is a judgement and verdict of guilty
So I struggle with the fact that somehow they all agree
If the problem isn't me it at least resides in me
I've got a penny, two maybe,
We'll find the appropriate line to walk eventually
I just hope there'll be someone left standing next to me
Because an eternity is a long time to spend lonely

©2024
Jeremy Betts May 14
Pain affects immediately, sticks around indefinitely
The headcount is up to sixty over infinity
And right around the corner is another three
Meaning it's always in the vicinity
And every type lands just a smidge differently
This feels like what I might imagine to be purgatory
Woe is me
My future will be winless if I'm too stay in the business of learning from my history
The bell to start the fight indicates the end, just prematurely
Loosing in a victory, contradictory absurdity mentioned literally,
All ***** nilly
As I'm sure you can imagine, maybe even probably agree
Somethin' like that is bound to change the complexion of a personality
I know personally
I'd hoped good days would roll in gradually, at least eventually
Instead they taunt relentlessly
It's with a heavy, often broken, heart I go in and defend half heartedly
Enjoying the savagery, a familiarity that relaxes me
But positions me next to the poisons amidst the pageantry
In the direct line of sight of my worst enemy
Me looking back at me directly
"You're talking to yourself again Jeremy..."
...shiit, sorry

©2024
I'd rather feel icy touch
Than absence of your fingers
Despair
Disappointment clutched
Fear
Traces linger
Fatigue
Constant stress
And everything else we despised
I'd rather feel these than nothing I guess
Pain better than desolation disguised
You dragged me down darkened road
Threat of danger was a low-pitched hum
Senses burning seared and slowed
Rather feel the fire than be numb
Perceiving nerves stretch with agony
All I do is survive
Prefer ache over dull monotony
It proves that I'm still alive
Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Cutezeni Aug 2023
Stay caught up till June
I’ve made up my mind now it’s doom
Feeling scared and lost
Is it my life or my soul that it’ll cost
To be untangled
But I can’t let it stay mangled
I want to leave it now
Come back morrow noon
When it will be the first of the full moon
Of august the first
But by then the deal will be sealed
I will have new work and old pieces to sew
I will have fresh scars to heal
I’m not ready, I’m not confident it seems
This light in my eyes is dull it never beams
Lost to the tribe, lost to the ethics and conspiracies
Can’t find my way out even with different loopholes and currencies
Leaving away is not the same as being free
When I’m tethered  to this city
It’s by lanes and pity
Of what people will say
Will they watch me when I flay
Their concerns are disconcerting
They don’t have the right pieces of my heart
They are just pulling strings from my art.
Stuck in a loop again here we go
Another year of breakdowns and broken bones
Is there a way out my head is spinning
I want to get down of this merry go round
I want to move straight and not be caught up in life’s down turning.
Nigdaw Apr 2022
if ever you wondered what purgatory
looked like, it's here
whatever these poor ******* did
they have paid
in spades
here on forgotten streets
among the flotsam and jetsam
drifting
from the higher echelons of society
this is Skid Row
the lowest you can go
doorway to hell
Skid Row is everywhere
GaryFairy Nov 2021
come round here and get your *** kicked
plastic caskets and old motor gaskets
the drastic practice of spastic masses
all stretched out and kicking *****

if you smile they kick your teeth in
to get in you gotta get beneath in
if you look they will cut your eyes out
it's alright after the crying dies out

the sun shines on the old floor boards
the wrecked chryslers and rusty fords
the fallen live underneath the wrecks
till the junkman comes and collects
%100% real place...or at least %50
anything has a half a chance right?
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