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There’s a universal substance
And it’s moldable and smart
But it needs to have a pattern
For the shaping power to start

Yes, it needs to have a template
A kind of outline or design
For this thinking stuff to cling to
And build your world and mine

I’m glad the pattern I provide
By the thinking of my mind
Is the template that is needed
For my world to be designed
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M Vogel Jan 2020

It is through the pathological:
The presented image of the journey
as being that of the road, less traveled--
a foundation of sand,  presented
as being that of bedrock..
It is the ancient shortcut's  need
to prop up it's own deception
that is of that which harbors  the greatest judgement
        of all that is upright
and it is upon these agenda-ed, subjective pallettes
that the pastels are mixed and arranged,

as the landscape of the world's reality
becomes,  painted.


the inconvenient musings of a madman, or something--
just thinking out loud here.. sorry.
I'll shut up now..
~Love, Paul xox
Łëïçkî Jan 2020
It wasn't supposed to be, missing you at 2:05 am.
I imagined snorting lines of ******* and cutting my skin.
It wasn't supposed to be, missing you at 2:06 am.
I envisioned a drunken mess sprawled across my bed.
It wasn't supposed to be, missing you at 2:07 am.
I was supposed to be high and stumbling around campus.
I wasn't supposed to be thinking about you.
I wasn't supposed to miss you.
I miss you.
lost in the throws of a 24 hour break up
disclaimer for the substance abuse and self harm
M Vogel Jan 2020
Round,  wavewashed rocks
strewn upon a beach of sand
Becoming strong, granite cliffs
rising above an ever rolling sea
of tall grass, borne on wide-open prairie
drawing towards itself eagles of all kinds
and ocean-bound egrets, their bellies
filled, with fish
the windborne silts  of distant lands,
finding refuge in the crags
filling in the years, of ancient definition
and throughout aeons, of forming
and unforming within the wild
brutal winds:  grinding, pulverizing
granite, back down to pebble
majestic prairie, back in to sand..
and then, back down  into
windblown silt

now circling around the feet of a child,
(one that pokes at dead things  with a stick)

But within the silt, are the pebbles
and so, down on her knees  she forms
a pile with her hands.. an ancient burial mound,
stands up, and with a clap of her
little hands, wipes a millenia of dust away
stick, tucked under arm-- she walks away:

as silt-covered pebble, become  once again

Round,  wavewashed rocks
strewn upon a beach of sand
Becoming strong, granite cliffs
rising above an ever rolling sea
of tall grass, borne on wide-open prairie

Drawing towards itself eagles of all kinds
and ocean-bound egrets, their bellies
filled, with fish
(the wind borne silts  of distant lands,
finding refuge in the crags
filling in the years, of ancient definition....)


'Dither is an intentionally applied form of noise used to randomize quantization error, preventing large-scale patterns such as color banding in images. Dither is routinely used in processing of both digital audio and video data, and is often one of the last stages of mastering audio to a CD.'

become an airborne offset, my beautiful--
step off the edge  and fly
https://youtu.be/gGiCtQSwGPQ

Love, Paul xox
Ademar Jr Dec 2019
I always love some good pictures
But there's more to that even though their treasure
It's the fact you can't get away with pleasures
For it causes you remarkable gestures
As I walk and talk, I forget what life is about
I then saw you and it caused a dark cloud
I can't help to forget you for I hear your every sound
I hear it despite it's not that loud
I'm crazy and craving for you like a hound
At night I even tried searching for your house
As my plan had started to bound
I will capture you as my queen
I will crown you and make me your king
You will forget your family and siblings
For no one can sabotage my feelings
Your face, it delights my everyday desires
It makes me happy and does lights up fires
You can't escape this, so don't get tired
I'm here with you as I also try to capture your heart
You can't stop it, for it is fast like a thrown dart
I'm hallucinating and want all your parts
For this substance had made me a monster in the dark.
Max Neumann Feb 2020
the repetition of a repetition
is
the repetition of a repetition
is
the repetition of a repetition
is
the repetition of a repetition
is
the repetition of a repetition
is
the repetition of a repetition

which means:

doing drugs daily
being trapped on the quest
for the first high
YouTube: "Beautiful Relaxing Music for Stress Relief • Meditation Music, Sleep Music, Ambient Study Music"

There's help: Unprejudiced and for free:

www.aa.org
www.na.org
www.ca.org

Today is a good day.
RC Dec 2019
Oh but Mama, the liquor feels so good in my system
so warm in my blood
I'll bet you never thought I would've listened
but now look at me
filling your shoes, so lost in my boots
I look a little something like you would've
I believe I would reckon.

And Mama have you seen
what a mess I've let these men make of me?
Most of them built on apologies
but they mean what they say
and they like to say it when they're mean.
Oh, Mama,
you should see the things you didn't mean to teach me.

Mama? Please don't be sad,
or hurt, or guilted, or shamed,
you did the best you could with what we had to our name,
My heart's bigger than most
and my eyes are wider all the same
I'll hold it all on my shoulders
I've learned to balance peace with the pain.
fraudelle Sep 2019
She changed my clothes
She changed my pose
She changed my hair
She changed my prayer
She changed me
Like iron to rust

But like other girls
She did the same

In this story
You are the medicine
Who Created mr.  Hyde

Sorry? To late
Jekyll taking his grave
I'm already dead
Evan Sep 2019
I wish I could have it all
I could get high and watch it dissolve
Have an adventure in my head
Make the loneliness interesting
I’ve been trying to stop speeding
But I fall down and crash
A trip to the hospital
This time I won’t make it back
I’ve got a list of fears
Greatest being myself
Can’t shake the urge to stop neglecting myself
I don’t value wealth
Too much pressure on my conscious
To remain conscious
The days add up like addition
Couple that with a bad personality
You got addiction
Sharing what’s in my head
Not as good as seeing you in my bed
Swimming doggie paddle
But my muscles are giving out
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