(To the tune of the 12 Days of Christmas) *

On the first day of Christmas my mommy made me
               A batch of my favorite cookies

On the second day of Christmas my mommy made me
                                           Two apple pies

On the third day of Christmas my mommy made me
                               Three basted turkeys

On the fourth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                                  Four deviled eggs

On the fifth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                           Five pumpkin pies!!!

On the sixth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                                    Six honey hams

On the seventh day of Christmas my mommy made me
                             Seven gooey brownies

On the eighth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                         Eight malted milkshakes

On the ninth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                           Nine banana muffins

On the tenth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                                    Ten yucky yams

On the eleventh day of Christmas my mommy made me
                           Eleven pickled peppers

On the twelfth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                               Twelve ears of corn

all my friends are preachers just let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
do not wait until your heading home.
.
.
.
get so drnk, smoke some ****, let loose.
.
.
.
you have no, mth* f^kng clue.
.
.
.
all my friends are preachers just let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
do not wait until your heading home.
.
.
.
get so drnk, smoke some ****, let loose.
.
.
.
you have no, mth* f^kng clue.

welcome to the room of people who have seen deceitful lovers walk away, while getting paid.

just because we taped our mouths when we left doesn't mean our brains are slain, because of the game.

you'll never know the rebel, siting next to you,
you'll never know the genius, sitting next to you,
you'll have some weird people
sitting next to you.
.
.
.
.
all my friends are preachers just let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
do not wait until your heading home.
.
.
.
get so drnk, smoke some ****, let loose.
.
.
.
you have no, mth* f^kng clue.
.
.
.
we gave some new faces a chance to really truly sell,
they said they had it down script after leaving hell.

some got trust issues yet they flexin,
some are shy while carrying Gods message.

you'll never know the warriors sitting next to you,
you'll have some strange equals spitting out they food.

talking **** to each other,
in their hearts staying true.
.
and after all i've said,
please try to repress (Fck it)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
(Fck it)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
all my friends are preachers just let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
do not wait until your heading home.
.
.
.
get so drnk, smoke some ****, let loose.
.
.
.
you have no, mth* f^kng clue.
.
.
.
why you scared we here to change the world.
.
.
.
cannot stand a lying man or girl.
.
.
and now we,
move ghostly,
they hu-unt.
it looks like,
they might banish is us.
--
---
----
--
@ Fibonacci_0

By Arcassin Burnham (Inspired By Johnny Cash)


I Hurt Myself Today,
Cause Everything's Surreal,

I Use to,
Love the pain,
Ignored the devil's deals,

I get deeper , in the hole,
Seeing what tomorrow brings,
God knows all the rest of your days,
And he remembers everything,


What Have I Become,
My Darkened End,
Everyone I Know , Knows their way,
In the End,
And You Could Have It All,
My self love of worth,
I always let you down,
I Will Make You Hurt,


The Man With His Two Horns,
Has Things He Wants To Share,
Maintain These Old Thoughts,
Don't You Let Him Hear,

An Ode To Father Time,
There's Nothing, Else To Fear,
Fight Battles Somewhere Else,
But I Am Still Right Here,



What Have I Become,
My Darkened End,
Everyone I Know , Knows their way,
In the End,
And You Could Have It All,
My self love of worth,
I always let you down,
I Will Make You Hurt,
If I Could Start Again,
Then Everyone Would Stay,
Times I Saved Myself,
I Won't Die ..Today.


R.I.P C A S H

The fatter rains are beneath the canopy, but deafened
Come the flowers whom I’d sing mournful songs,
Our latter-day hymns of Benjamin Gibberd
So, I say to them all as they to the earth, twinges of falsehood
In loved embraces to the earth they bind themselves
(But the quiet soothes of incurable ills).
Their voices become intolerable candors of intolerable people
That echo between the ash and locust who seem to melt darker.

This empty way comes in sudden inspiration, a heart
Ready to fill with blood again, to beat love and passion
Into nature’s core and I stand in its middle, crushed
By endless gallons of living things; but, I need not surprise
Or overwork myself since the airs taken for granted
That I put on or breath, settle in my lungs
Pressing heavy with every love that could have been
Or every natal anxiety come to plume.

As flies, I am not ready to make vines spring or reek up the woods
And my feet take the flight, take the prayer—I’ve only ever
Prayed to myself, anyway—this tilled earth of my hand,
What will come of me someday, grows out moss
In fibres of a self-conceit remaining in sorrow and censure
Youth and in pleasure, run until my foot gives way in the mud.

I lay sinking at the rude audience of tongues and tangles
And the open world, far too distant to really hear the speeches
They’ve heard far too many times. Perhaps I’ve saddened them
They do not respond to the resigned gurgle of the mud
But, there are tears in the woods, too marked up like pistils
Of much-quitted innocence given no reason to act
No comfort are they, nor am I to them
The only true comfort now, is the weight of the world
And the wind on my back.

“For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of Kings.”

The smell of fresh grasses lefts stifled underfoot,
A thousand tiny voices, wheaten, bug, or no,
Can call up to the elderly trees, whose white palms
Gave surrender only moments ago to this wandering eye.
To think, I am but that hole of many in a chain
Of lattices made only by their breakage,
For I relinquish myself to the spirit or biology
Two gods my life’s work has been to destroy.

The sun comes through that shattered mat of life
A fallen crest, defining the morose bedding of
Victim and trap, so that I may hear it speaking;
Strung up and dragging on its gaunt, breathless rot
It claims a stupid animal lived in this body once,
Relinquished itself by flight to the unwavering, silky
Thread of beautiful frailness, or motionless spectra,
Thus, it deserves to lose what it did not want
Since it did not flee life, it did not flee death.

I wanted to study it more, enchanted by the hollowness
Until water came onto my brow, fell onto my passive lips
Uttering, till then, a prayer to fly from here,
Till my eyes color over and I’ve finally escaped.
But, this motif, I see, is overplayed, too trite
For secular gods who prefer the wiles of game
We, the peak of human life, I the most sufferable of them
I, the most thirsting of my image, tend to consume.
If it were boredom, then plagues would sweep hot winds
Everywhere; thus, it is not, it is the constant reminder,
We are but nothing, but flesh to die, unwitting flies
To the spider’s web.

I may tend to the soil.

At 21, growing flowers with my cries for help
Feels criminal, ridiculous. Those ******* children,
On their mute petals flourish jealously
In more lush and verbal company,
But their speak fades out as color and as light
The last of the sounds is celebration and surprise.

Of course, I am tied to this soil, watching waves
And waves of new life rise in clouds of pollen,
Migrating and impatient; New things seem to form,
Divisions where there is only space barring austere tongues
Their desired juices, but I command Myself, abstain,
And keep the teeth and silence like fences
Made of mockery, ridicule, and other forms of self-control.

And yet, the time of false gods effervesces in a comforting dream
When I feign sleep, vines creeping up while I regret their invitation
Standing amongst them, beautifully crafted shapes, lacking color.
I admonish quietly, I suggest furtively, I command passively
And amongst plenty of others, I am one open eye, a slit for lamentations
And they are the doomed recanters of permanence, forever happy
Forever in death, there is no time to wither.

there is no truth
only real
you can't take that from me
am i really
that insane
the light is not pretend


soak it in
pay attention
open your heart to me
are you really
telling me
my life is just pretend

feel it with
all that you are
you can't take love from me
can it really
go unseen
a love that's not pretend

a broken era
a generation
you won't take that from me
all i really
need is you
our life is not pretend

a dying age
degeneration
you gave this all to me
seperation
disharmony
at least until the end

so sick of wasting words
on these formalities

honesty and truth is
I'll never be the same again

please never leave my side.