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pilgrims Oct 2020
I am a ghost
who has remembered what it is to be a man. I weep.
As a man
I remembered what it is to be human. I laugh.
In this way, deep each moment grows a knowing:
all our sisters and brothers and others observe feeling.
Beside supposed cross
and imposed hurt is understanding
human in nature.
Swaddled in this knowledge is a flower
basking in the sun.
Love is real;
as solid as a pebble
fixed inside a mountain.
My conscious Being flows through every atom.
I remember what it is to be!
Air moved with music
as a body is moved by music.
I am dancing madly to the drum.
Standing still does nothing for the beat,
which sounded long before i could dance.
Love is the only dance,
Love is the only beat,
Love is the only drum.
Max Neumann Sep 2020
when no one sleeps, the crowd dances
shining rubies, decorated with lurid lights
when no one's there for you, death strikes
girlie's heads are spinning and feeling empty

in the times of hunger and destruction
nobody sees it coming, nobody cares
like faith no more, but the other way around
your spirit is trippin' as you are feeling frozen

numb love catches your attention, you're sighing
alarming moments when you are entering the club
techno sounds, jarring like sirens, ultimate daring
your head is spinning and you're feeling golden

glossy-white creatures arise from the underground
lights are cutting the darkness of manhattan's mansion
take some, get some, burn some, baby love me
waterfalls are splashing, the ocean, the dashing
TheIdleOwl Aug 2019
The beers are flowing I'm winning all the bets,
The barman's sat on the frame throwing out cassettes,
A couple of Yakuts come to me smoking a joint,
It was so poorly rolled I had to press down on the point,

Excitement buzzes around about this rave in the jungle,
When in walks a man with tattoos all over his knuckles,
He hollers "Hurry up guys the taxi's coming in an hour"
The DJ adjusts his aviators and turns the music up louder,

I look up above the trees,
And it might be because I'm high,
But the stars sparkle like a million possibilities,
Exploding across the sky,

We're rattling in a Mondeo, no light but those from the front,
Khmer music drowned out by the creaking of the rust,
The driver hits the breaks we arrive in a serenade of sand,
Our English too fast for him to even try to understand,

We're here in the jungle and there's a ferris wheel,
And a stage made up of abandoned automobiles,
A carousel that'll set you back a couple of Riel,
The whole thing just feels so ******* surreal,

I look up above the trees,
And it might be because I'm high,
But the stars sparkle like a million possibilities,
Exploding across the sky,

The sky is full of stars but there's no sign of the moon,
We head to the back by the glistening lagoon,
Share the powder and lace it into our beer,
Clink cans and smile, down with a cheer,

I bounce from chat to chat,
All smiles and hope,
My spirit is soaring as everything,
Spills from my envelope,

As I look up to the black above the trees,
And it might be because I'm high,
But the stars sparkle like a million possibilities,
Exploding across the sky.
Tekan Jan 2019
Strangers that reunite
In a dark, smokey room
Held in by vibrating walls of delight
No rules, no restraints
No wrongs no rights

Covering one nostril
I inhale snowy white
Excitement kicks in the back of my throat
Leaving my speech tight

No need for words
No need for fights

Passing along the peace pipe
We all breathe in the night

And as high as a kite
We take off, into flight
A heaving dance floor
Getting ready to ignite

All tuned in
To Friday night
ys Nov 2017
wardens trying to catch the running thoughts… here and there, snakes become ladders.

jailbirds of a different kind, pink and yellow trunks, see-through vests. they're way too many, they can't be numbered.

parole impossible, behaviour mad… drinking spirits and each other, in equal parts. pink dogs with zebra tails, fetching make-believe bones lost amidst psychedelic sunflowers.

thoughts helter skelter, in the tiny vastness, where only grey matters. bright flashes creep in at the bat of an eye, the hazy images of the outside world.

'em wardens are back, logic loaded in their guns. six rounds, a million too few… but now the dogs found something to chew!
gibberish... and not
wendee mcmoon Nov 2017
I walk down the street, my hair messy
My makeup sliding off
My sweatpants riding low on my hips, dragging on the ground, collecting dirt
And a low cut tank top.
Tired, exhausted, worn out. Unattractive. And that's okay.
What's not okay is when a car slows down and yells
"Hey pretty girl! Where you off to?"
I freeze
Attention is not something I'm looking for
It's a bed that I'm seeking
A good night's sleep
But instead of a bed I find
A man
Yelling unwanted compliments out of his car window as I walk back home.

Should I answer? What would I say?
Should I be honest? "I'm going home. Off to bed."
I know what the response would be. "Can I come too?"
Or maybe I can say "I'm going to see my girlfriend."
I don't have a girlfriend, but for the next five minutes,
She's right up that hill, waiting in her room to see me.
No, his response would be "That's hot! Can I come too?"
Or maybe I have a boyfriend instead.
More effective.
More dangerous. More of a threat than a girlfriend would be.
No, to that he'd say "He's letting you walk by yourself?
Must not be much of a man. I bet I could take him in a fight."
Which brings up many more issues
(i can walk by myself if he were real he would respect me so thats more than you do if he were real he wouldnt fight some random ******* over me treat me like a PERSON god ******)
That I would not want to address with someone as dangerous
As a man telling me I'm pretty out of the window of his car.
Maybe I can say "Please leave me alone." Being direct is always the best option.
Unless he continues to follow me.
Or gets upset.
Or refuses to leave me alone.
Or gets out of his car or pulls me into his car or or or
I don't know. I don't want to think about it.

Or maybe I can just keep walking.
Ignore him, act like nobody said anything
Act like there isn't someone I have never met in my whole life
Yelling out of the drivers window of his car
Telling me I'm pretty.

There is no way out of the dangerous thing that is the male gaze
Once it begins
There is no easy way out.
Written for my Intro to Creative Writing class--the assignment was "Write an imitation of [Gregory] Corso's poem ["Marriage"]--rant and rave about your own fears."
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