#plug
skin sensation
a gentle breath
elasticity losing the battle
with gravity
the older you get
the more Earth ***** you back
Apr 14
Apr 14, 2026 at 9:25 AM UTC
rain drained down
upon us cold
paraded away our labours
pegged at out bare backs
and showboated us all
as temporary
reactive
and lacking in good humour
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 1:34 AM UTC
i’ve turned it all off and plugged in
uploading memories to the cloud
wonder if it ever rains
if the fog clears would you see my life encoded within the atmosphere?
can emotions be
interpreted into code?
what would be my algorithm?
tell me,
how is it that
numbers can be played back as music?
is it actually music?
really, it’s just sounds bouncing about everywhere.
so many numbers,
so many words,
so many letters
in this world...so
does my little code
even matter?
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
Numbing sends me crashing to pieces,
lungs fill up before I can scream,
light diminishes into darkness,
substance entered but refuses to release.
Colors now white flashes,
blood dips beneath my chest,
nobody's coming i have no contacts,
only my mothers ashes.
In my mind walls keep me bound,
with water soon to drown,
messed up broken needs a fix,
gotta break this glass so confound.
As water starts to over submerge,
a pulse breaks the glass setting me free,
opening my eyes these people standing before me,
weeping a funereal they all have to purge.
Still cannot speak but now can cry,
knowing people actually care,
never again shall I take a substance,
that costed me a near a goodbye.
For this next to me is a plug,
which might end up getting pulled,
even with my eyes open,
without movement they might just be misunderstood.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 5:05 PM UTC
I am writing this using a pen that was oh-so-kindly gifted to me by a kind old lady. She also gave me a cookie, but that’s beside the point. I think she knows that the best way to bribe college students is through food. I’m standing at the table beside a girl who I THINK is in one of my classes, but I still am not quite certain. She is the kind of athletic and strong that screams “this is the confidence that you’ll never have”. We’re both being shown a piece of paper with a minimal amount of writing on it, but an infinite amount of pure heart. The paper says a sweet word about prayer and doing well on finals and all that, but my focus is on the excessive amount of exclamation marks at the end of each sentence. I guess Presbyterians really are the Oprah Winfreys of religion. I forgot to mention that the old lady is Presbyterian. She is advertising a fall bible study led by college students, which, if I were not plagued with the constant assumption that I’ll never know how to socialize or make friends, I would be absolutely enthralled by. The truth is that I’ve been trying to get “plugged in” for a while now, but how can I get plugged in when my wire is frayed and everything I touch seems to smoke and burn at some point? My plug is a circle and the outlet is a square, so I guess it’s like that saying, “A circle can’t fit into a round peg”, or something like that. Anyways, I didn’t mean for this to become an analogy between being disconnected and electrical outlets, but it turned out that way. The old lady at the booth was nice. I hope to someday be that lovely. Although I was around her for a total of thirty seconds, I saw what it’s like to live a life not shrouded in a black cloud of fear. So, thank you, lady.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 10:59 PM UTC
.
It really happened this morning
you'll never guess what I saw,
happily playing in my bath tub,
was the ghost of a dinosaur.
Not knowing quite what to do,
feeling sorry for his poor soul,
I reached in, pulled the plug,
and he disappeared down the hole.
© Pagan Paul (15/07/18)
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
I plug in the
vacuum cleaner
to **** it up
and see
if it disappears
into a bag
that holds
everything
that is black
and blue.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 12:54 PM UTC
Smiling in this moment of love,
pollen brings alleges.
A sneeze pressures
her secret to fall
with a clang.
Vibrating **** plug, blushful innocence revoked.
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
...and 'oh my God' did I cry
I sparked like I was made of knives
and it carried me
I was adopted
It took me and I gave up me
easily
This had become dimensional
Life seamed
I was played
I was playing
I was addressing reasoning
and burying it fiercely and fare
Pounding clay over it
and enhancing my surroundings
content and without trust
Restart
Welled and sad
Sick excited
A primal plug
Connected
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 10:56 PM UTC
I'm ****** if I do and ****** if I don't.
Mom, Aunt, Brother and others, please let me go.
It can help, but would further drown me more than you know.
I feel sick, my mind is a mess from the constant consumption of multiple drugs.
End my suffering, pull the plug.
I would rather fade away right here.
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
A Fancy Word For A Plug
That’s how it opens, from the end ripped off, the open end. Good bread, meh. The best bread I can find
here right now.
every afternoon someone finds everything they’ve thought they’ve ever needed in the trove of glances stalking their eyes stalking back at someone only
five minutes ago they may have called them, stranger, but brilliantly they have hope now, or the illusion I had thinking I’d be able to please every woman I’d ever take to bed
being fifteen years old can do that to someone who spends nights after high school smoking his father’s marijuana. It’s funny how glances and stares are all a single man needs to feel empowered by a woman
like he’s just captured his muse in a butterfly net. This is before he learns not all lepidoptera are butterflies, before he learns to transmit his rattling indecipherable hormones to her antennae, but never to touch the wings.
He is a stalker of wing-touches, with a fancy diet to guide him through the unforgivable minutes he tricks himself into thinking he can make anyone happy, he carves a topaz vase he hoards the few moments before any voice should trammel these moments whose preciousness isn’t foretold by nearly a decade.
Everyone wants to escape someone to move from one silence to another, they put on a show if only to escape everyone they ever went begging eyes from in a not so distant past.
I used to last eight or nine times a day in college, I made a collage of faces for a Freshman-studies course, as if there was no price too vain for me to expose my soaked and fleshy junk. That was until I started guilty catching stares, taking away a gaze from another’s gaze, becoming Casanova for a moment, then again it’s still hard to resist something I know six billion people are wanting to put inside or be put inside.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 3:11 AM UTC
I wish you a future, child
I wish you no pain, child
I wish you innocent love
and a full stomach, child
I wish you blue skies, child
I wish you big dreams, child
I see your eyes begin to fade
I know deep down the life I've made
I tried to refrain from touching the plug
but we all lean down for one last hug
Child of mine,
Dance with the stars
Say hello to the moon
I will see you soon
I wished you no pain
I wished you a future
I wished you blue skies
and dreams as big as your heart
You left this world in pain
Our hearts will forever feel that strain
But knowing you are safe and sound
Will keep you and I forever bound.
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 11:06 PM UTC
Find an outlet.
It should be
Behind a
Desk
Or
A
Bookcase.
I need
Warmth
I need
Energy
I need
Life
Plug me into the
Wall.
Charge me.
Let me sit there
Long after
My eyes glow
Full
And
Powerful
Let me
Sit there
When I
Might
Explode.
Plug me into
The
Wall
Save me
I don't want to die.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 11:29 PM UTC
I told him that the holes in his ears were individual universes that I'd love to explore,
So he plugged them up.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC