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Lost Mar 2017
My strength lies with them

the people who make me feel at home

we are not a club

we are a family.

We stand strong

hold each other up

protect our own .

We thrive on the happiness

we give each other.

We are one

like the song from The Lion King 2

we sang together today

right before double run through.

I love you guys

and I'll never stop.

Thank you so much

for being my family.
I love you all so much.
You ******, exotic,
Beautiful creature.
I could not be more intrigued by you.

I drove, 46 miles,
to be screamed at for being late.

When I rolled in with a leather jacket
my lit cigarette,
you asumed I was this rebel.

Dangerous,
adventurous creature.

Dropped onto this earth
for your entertainment

That's exactlly what I am.
46 miles away from my home town.

My foam swords,
magic the gathering cards,
Dungeon and dragons playing self
packaged tightly in the lockbox
at my bedroom door.

Today, I am a persona poem.

My smolder is a gas mask.
you are the poison gas.

It was invented for survival
in the trenches with you.

I hold myself like a commander
shouting orders at my mind:

“Stop calling her beautiful, you maggot!
She wants you to take charge.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

...So uh...
What do you wanna do today?

“What do you think you're doing?
Don't give her options, Maggot!
Tell her where you're going!”

“Sir, yes, sir”

We're getting coffee.
her favorite coffee house

She gets a nutella mocha.
I get a 16oz almond milk maple syrup latte

She calls me a hipster,
I laugh, I don't disagree.
I give her the radio,

“What do you think you're doing maggot!?”

“trust me,
we need to find out what music she likes."

Show tunes.
Light bulb.
Rapport jackpot.

you ever heard of Rocky Horror?
Doctor Horribles Sing Along Blog?
Little Shop of Horrors?
Repo, The Genetic Opera?
Hedwig and The Angry Inch?

“What do you think you're doing maggot?
Don't fall in love with this girl."

“Sir, maybe, sir”

We walk the beach,
Singing showtunes
we know all the words.

“You're actually the first person
I've seen in real life from tinder...
I hear all these stories
couples meeting online
Getting murdered
I was half expecting you to **** me.”

“Well we didn't get to the end of the beach yet"

.... wait... is she serious?

"My boyfriends waiting
at the rocks down there
when we Start to ****
he's gonna jump out
slit your throat.
The redness of your blood
spilling on the rocks
is going to make me so,
*******,
Wet.”

"... I
.."

She texts her boyfriend
asks to kiss me.

Babe.
Babe.
C'mon Babe.
Really, Babe.
Babe.
Babe.
Babe.

I drive to portland in the rain
We park in the parking garage
There was free on street parking
but I don't
Understand...
Parking Signs...

“Good job, maggot.”
“Sir, yes, sir”

I drive the 46 miles back to kennebunk to drop her off.

She keeps my favorite shirt
because it smells like me.

when I get home.
I find her ******* in my backseat.

“You forgot something, Maureen"
when do we Tango again?

"When you pay my Rent,
You smug *******."
Branson Rideaux Jan 2017
I'm a black actor
So my monologues are gospel
my dialogues are political
my blocking is a statment
My diction is forgiven

I'm a black actor
So Shakespeare speaks above my melanin,
Avant guarde is a canvas too fresh for color
And the urban expierence
    Is a glove that fits too well to remove

I'm a black actor
So my casting is guaranteed
My bio line is their defense against vulturous social critics circling the audition table
They need a black actor
I'm a black actor
As cricket still a widget
and insure that noir not cankerous
though evening nigh round ten
whether it resorts at the door affirmatively sound
or an answer with divine presence there
but as countdown in air midst with his rap indenture
till another person knocks it down again tonight.
Miss Clofullia Nov 2016
When real love kicks in..
And I mean the R E A L deal,
not the one that
TV shows present to you as being "part of life" in 23 minutes episodes!

The ****** up, messy entanglement that takes your heart,
blindfolds it and then starts kicking it from the side,
the parks, theaters and picnic one,
the “please make me a sandwich while I take out the trash” one,
the big-spoon-little-spoon-during-the-night one,
the “we just visited your parents last month and I don’t feel like doing it again very soon” one,
the fuzzy wazzy baby voicey one,
the planes, trains and automobiles one,
the “you snore so bad that I wanna **** you sometimes” one,
the bad morning breath after a hard day’s drinking night one,
the cinnamon flavoured one,
the “not 8 years and a half, but 8 years and 7 months” one
the one for which you cannot find words to describe it right.

When THAT kicks in..
you better be ready to sleep on the couch!
She's surly shy with her lines
the curtains fell on her face
when adept only flash of evanescence
with a bite in capital and shoal disport her dress
in polls today hop with her as such a surprise wink at her frill that land upon shoes and ruefully construe her entirely with her malice fore bash in bistro extradite uproarious faith that fully entice her orthodoxy and succeed with premier.
Storm Oct 2016
lights flashing through the city and polluting the air,
car horns honking and people colliding with your shoulder.
billboards flashing advertisements for the crowds below:
‘get a coke! stop by olive garden! try this phone service!’
and surrounding those screens, posters for the theater.
wicked, lion king, hamilton, and more
go to west 46th street and fight the crowd,
feel the excitement, hear the orchestra, touch the souvenirs,
let even a native new yorker become a tourist for one day
take your seat, admire the view, take some pictures,
listen to the ushers, watch the crowd settle, straighten as the lights dim.
everyone in places--it’s showtime.
JR Rhine Jul 2016
My eyes are on the screen,
but my mind is on your hand,
lying pensively on the arm rest,
the screen's flashes dancing upon its frame--

Exposing the space between fingers I'm dying to cease.

Your hand lies there like a puzzle piece--
My heart races and fingers twitch
as my mind interlocks them with yours
to complete an image of grace,
one I've fantasized for nights on end.

Your eyes are set forward as mine,
I cannot even fathom what lies behind
this silent countenance of beauty.

How wholly engrossed are you in this movie,
are you tormented same as I?

As far as I'm concerned,
we are the only ones in this theater.

The popcorn in my lap,
the soda in the cup holder between us,
moments where our fingers touch
then retreat--
All without our eyes ever leaving the screen,
peripheral fantasies.

But that's where my intentions lie,
your hand dancing with mine
in the corner of my eyes
and the forefront of my mind.

How you weave through the popcorn,
your hand bumping against mine like an atom,
plucking the greasy morsel
and tossing it into your mouth--

What if our fingers lingered?

The soda our lips shared at separate times,
a middle-man between a kiss
I could only dream of.

These transient ecstasies
that pale in comparison
to the real thing.

But I'll take it,
in these peripheral games we play
in a darkened movie theater
on a Tuesday night.

Matinee screening,
our parents waiting impatiently in the parking lot outside,
nearing the end of the movie,
I've yet focused your hand in the frame--
These peripheral games.
Racquel Tio Jun 2016
with theatre I tried to become many different people.
the killer was just my rage and the orphan was my abandonment personified.
and time and time again I learned that, they too, were me.
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