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 Feb 2014 Timothy Brown
Lyla
Venturing into the heart of insanity,
(my mind)
I fear that i will lose myself.
I hear the blood rushing in my head
(Will it ever drown me?)
As its the only sound i hear apart from myself.
Alone with my thoughts,
(Wish me well..)
Maybe this is what i want.
Insanity. Chaos. Something.
Ice cream cascades lazily
Down the throat
A hot cold assault
On the throat’s walls
This after a heavy hearty meal.
She was a friend of Amber Clark
You know, you've met her before
She's the girl who listens secretly
To Bach behind the door
The Closet Classic ******
Who wears shirts of the Ramones
But listens to Rachmaninov
whenever she's alone

Jennifer McSweeney
known by all upon the street
She had kind words for everyone
She liked everyone she'd meet
She ate meals at Giannis
Knew the Pawnbroker, Old Cy
She listened to the bluesman
Whenever she came by

Like all the folks upon the street
Jennifer was dark
Not gothic, but you could say grey
She was set to make her mark
She was going to be famous
Her face upon the Silver Screen
She was going to be a movie star
Like The Truck Stop Beauty Queen

Jennifer loved movies
Not the ones that can be found
At the local dvd store
She liked the movies without sound
Her little quirk was that she
Liked the movies from the start
They told tales in black and white
These were strong in Jenni's heart

Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd
Fatty Arbuckle, and more
Zasu Pitts, Charlie Chase
They struck her to her core
L and H, The Keystone Kops
She loved to see them grapplin'
But none of these compared to her
deep love for Charlie Chaplin

The Cineplex would show a film
They would host a special week
When silent movies were the shows
When nobody did speak
Jennifer would take the time
To watch each film they showed
She was so happy when the week came round
She positively glowed

The kids she knew, all thought her odd
Because of what she liked
But, when the silent week was here
Jennifer was psyched
One year she went to the next town
To get a small tattoo
It was all done up in black and grey
It was what she had to do

Like other girls who have been inked
It was in the same place
But, it was little, very non descript
Of her favorite actors face
She told few friends about it
And though she never did get violent
If you laughed at her tattoo
Like Chaplin, she'd be silent

She kept it to herself most times
Her little bit of ink
As she aged she'd show it more
For the cost of just one drink
She would take them to her bedroom
And by the light of her small lamp
She would show her tattoo proudly
Chaplin....her little ***** stamp

It's the thing that she is known for
She's the girls with Charlie's face
Where others all have Chinese Words
She has Chaplin in this place
She is known for loving movies
In black and white, and though it's camp
She gives a whole new meaning to
Having a ***** stamp.
clouds are gathering
along the western ridges
promising some rain
Pondering on the thoughts of fantasies you've planted
Like a ray blasted between roasted tips
Of sunlight on my lips.

Dreaming about the day you'd be the one,
To take me away.
From smokey flames and dusty trains.

Floating above the unknown feelings
Of fearless thrusting between my hips.

Can you feel it baby?

In your mind
You've ****** me twice.

Sensations of a rush run through my skins
Flawless blush.

Deeper my mind drifts
Into the abyss of
Everlasting pleasures

Drip... Drip...Drip...

Did you feel that baby?
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Misty sreams break through broken dreams

Replenishing the garden of eden as though it seems

A fresh intake of complete serentity

Escaping the rigid bridge collapsing into a soiled specter

Through spirals of entangled branches taken down by a faithful soul

An escape from the deceitful downfall of eternal suffering.
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As I lay pacing through the walls of insanity balanced between reality

My mind unwinds bringing down sequences intertwined

Twisted secrets of poisenous emotions while i glide along euphoric passions

Drastic oceans embedded between those luscious lashes, grasping my last breath with shades of ashes

Unraveling  silk layers  of her anatomy, the dark shades
within history abandoned upon a sweet mystery.
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