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Arcassin B Jul 23
"At Ease At Last"

By Arcassin Burnham

Hi, my bio's the boy with hearts on his sleeve and chips
on both shoulders with the chip dip,
with same old shoes from when he was 18 , thinking he could get
it quick,
with same old hate , some of it is received to him,
steady tryna' make it on his **** and do things right,
too hard to pick,
between the good and the bad,
you wanna be a saint but they steady treat you like an american
from Us,
the money is the problem with this country,
you really look for peace towards God we trust.
the shape of your mind is the size of an egg,
you only look for what you could get out of life,
and if the only plan is to end up dead,
gotta be smart , you must think twice.
you must think twice.
you must think twice.
for all that I have been in my life,
I'm glad I could find my peace of mind.

find my peace of mind.
find my peace of mind.
At ease At last , I could finally live in my eyes.






"Big WHoop"

I could see my dreams and anguishes,
seeing them as I go further,
your world is ****** in so many languages,
that you might be okay with ******,
I could see that music is failing to secure you from
all the bad,
famous people die so much , but just think how did
they get like that?
Big whoop right ?
do you even care?
is this fueling you?
take out your phone and record someone dying here,
do you know the stupid **** that you do?
Big whoop right ?
do you even care?
is this fueling you?
take out your phone and record someone dying here,
do you know the stupid **** that you do?

I manifest and push back,
the negative **** that lingers,
illuminate and attack,
my mind will shine like veneers,
take allegiance to myself , you should hear the words
I'm saying , is this thing on?
I should have guessed it , they rigged it,
As long as my mind knows,
then my imagination shows,
wondering off to the plane,
flying off into the sky, I'm too cold like an eskimo,
will the evergreen forever grow, i guess nobody knows,
My love will show though so
Big whoop right ?
do you even care?
is this fueling you?
take out your phone and record someone dying here,
do you know the stupid **** that you do?
Big whoop right ?
do you even care?
is this fueling you?
take out your phone and record someone dying here,
do you know the stupid **** that you do?




©abpoetry2020
https://arcassin.blogspot.com/p/apart-of-me-too-ep.html
tmartin Feb 15
escape with yourself
your demons
and carry with- your gods
Excerpts from Pillows & Records “Memories of an old friend” by tma_rtin
Toast Ghost Jan 4
I'd love to be fixed but I've given up hope. "It's messed up" I get that alot from the pope.
I'd love to love to like my family has told me but I'm sick at the thought of a guy trying to hold me.
Am I wrong?
Am I broken?
I'm lonely for sure,
But as a lesbian in Utah I don't get much allure.
Idk weather to laugh or cry at this poem, so I'll just apologize I guess?
marianne Mar 2019
When my proud moment isn’t on Facebook
I will hold that moment in my own two hands
touched by grace
wet with tears
giving thanks
I will feel the smooth cold glass of it
See the flash of sun sparking
new worlds in it
I will hear the harmony, and dissonance
that made it
I will smell strawberries and spring
in her hair
I will know the days and moons and moments
tears, and heart-stopping fears
of love, of trust, the holiness of her small soft hand
in mine
I will hold this moment close
longing to whoop from the treetops
wishing the world to know, this
is my proud moment—
whispering its truth
to the wind instead
It's been a good week.
parttimeboy Apr 2018
Aesthetically pleasing spiderwebs
Dogs fitting perfectly into each dorway
Books over Books over Books over Books
being dead wood covered by dead wood inside of dead Wood

surrounded by stone
it´s what I call home

Fleeing feeling of savety but still somehow comforting
Hooks for our clothes and jackets (that can never move)
Socks appearing and disapperaing suddenly and out of nowhere
Magnetically linked toys
So I thought of something more to accompany my poem "like still air" but since that one came to me out of nowhere I felt the second stanza (I'd consider the two middle verses as some sort of chorus or "room-divider") was too forced and that I'd prefer to post both versions, since I tried somthing different for this one. Maybe someone will notice? I'll probably have to work on the meter and number of syllables, but that's for another day
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Utter control
I call myself God
Flint and stone my ******* and thumb
The wood that is consequence
Come alive by the flame from my fingers and my nod
I call myself God
******* around

— The End —