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 Apr 2013 Tommy
Tom McCone
meticulously placed traps
line the sidewalks and the
kitchen floors,
like tar,
coating the layer of sentiments
I probably feel,
and should probably say,
but, oh, how plain simplicity
in affairs
eludes my existence

as I see, out through
the window, to a pile of
dismembered and decaying twigs,
leaves, golden death like
the petals circling my aortae,
that once grew fondly
in presence of
possibilities and opportunities;
to the extent that god only knows (except for you)
how impossibly awful I am,
when it comes to
making the most rudimentary
decisions

only figuring out what I
want, when the options have
dried up
and the puddles
from the storm have
dried out

snared right down into
the hollow grimace of
all these **** traps I keep
throwing down
for my own cruel self.
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Margot
For E
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Margot
there is a time
and place
for everything

there are times
when i want to steal
your breath from your lungs
greedily, like a wolf,
just so you’ll have to
breathe through mine

but there are places
like the freckles of your cheeks,
the palms of your hands,
the flat expanse of your chest,
that remind me
of how beautiful it is
to breathe through you
as well
I fell in love with his freckles first. He hates them, so I love them for him.
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Sara Teasdale
I heard a cry in the night,
A thousand miles it came,
Sharp as a flash of light,
My name, my name!

It was your voice I heard,
You waked and loved me so—
I send you back this word,
I know, I know!
Logos matters not
in matters of Mythos:

For instance, some stuff about my birthday

My number is Twenty-Two.
Writ as two twos, 2(11), 2(5+6), 5(2)+4(3).
Of the 30 days of my birth month,
22/30 = 11/15 ≈ 0.7333 ad infinitum.

My month is Four.
2 to the second power,
defining a square;
the third positive square number.

My numerically symmetrical year,
which is evenly divisible by neither two nor three,
sums to 20 and multiplies to 81.
(1+9+9+1); (1)(9)(9)(1)
20=4(5); 81=9(9), 3(27)
Or, bisect the written year and add the sides within themselves
(1+9)(9+1)=(10)(10)=100.
Then, you can even add the three interpretations of the year:
81+20+100=201
201/3=67

I digress;

My sign is Taurus and thus my element is Earth.
Taurus is the second of twelve signs in western astrology.
In terms of Music,
I am an ascending minor Second above Ares,
one step up;
Scorpio is my Tritone
six steps up,
and Sagittarius is my perfect Fifth
seven steps,
where Leo is my minor Third, Virgo is major,
three and four steps up, respectively.
Pisces is my minor Seventh
at ten steps up or two down,
I have many Pisces in my life.
Bluesy.

As a Taurean,

My day is Venus,
my night is Moon, whereas
Mars can bring chaos.

This coming Monday,
I am to turn Twenty-Two;
on the day of Moon.

I am a Metal Goat by the Chinese Zodiac,
with Yin, the season of late-summer, and the element Fire.
The 8th sign; 2 cubed.
|-|-|--|-|--|--|-|--|-|-|
I do not feel that these things
predetermine anything in me or my life
but I do believe that these things
hold a certain power,
a sort of resonance
with me
and that is inspirational
and that is worth living for.

If one is keen enough to Mythos
then one can make anything relevant,
and one can draw a subjective lesson;
a sort of personal interpretation,
conducive and pertinent to one's self.

These things are not arbitrary;
they are a sort of time-stamp for life;
a frame of reference,
a milestone marker upon the path.

Of course, when I said "are"
I truly intended "could be seen as",
and from there "hardly ever to be taken literally";
Literal interpretations dwell within the realm of Logos:
(One can only describe so much, the rest is up to interpretation!)
--
Logos enters not
in matters of the Mythic,
yet they copulate.

Mythos is a realm
wholly separate from Logos
yet they interplay,

This dynamic play
in a mythicly tuned mind;
akin to wisdom.

Mythos and Logos
dancing cosmically onward
as if Yin and Yang.

To shun one and cling
zealously to the other
is tantamount to

fearing Death until
the day it's icy finger
points itself at you:

You miss out on all
the wondrous things in this life;
Enjoy here and now.
-
If you seek clarification on my definitions,
I shall be compiling a dictionary of my own conno- and denotations, with examples in context.

In the meantime and forever more, fear not to ask :D

Being born on April 22, I have the lingering trace of Aries; fire.
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Sydney Victoria
Am I Defined By A Grade Circled In Red,
Or Am I Defined By The Teacher Which Gave It?

Am I Defined By The Rumors Which Cling To My Name,
Or Am I Defined By My Peers Who Spread Them?

Am I Defined By The Words Of Corrupted Beings,
Or The Feelings In Which They Half-Heartedly Dwell?

I Want To Define Myself--Someday Soon,
I Don't Want To Be The Girl Who,

Said This,
Wore This,
Did This

I Don't Want To Be The Girl Who,

Liked Him,
Then Loved  Him,
Then She Was The One Who Lost

I Don't Want To Be The Girl,

So Many People Say I Am,

I Want To Be

*Sydney
Just Recapping In My Mind--- Step 2 Towards Forgiveness:)
 Apr 2013 Tommy
st64
Got a letter on a rainy day
Can't open a wet envelope
So, I wait for it to dry
Don't want the rain to steal away your words.

By the time I read your thoughts
And felt you pour your heart to me
I know now how .....it turns for you
And how you sealed the dried promise with a kiss.


Quickly, I mean to catch it
But the winds shift it away.

Now all I hold twixt my hands
Is this letter on a rainy day.



And it still rains.





S T, 20 April 2013
Yes, and it's raining.....still :)

Well, actually.....yesterday, it was! Lol

Beautiful....rain.
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Dave Bosworth
write
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Dave Bosworth
War is a system. It is The System.
it is the means to keep people who feel insecure, securely tucked into a command bunker
Securely delegating their fears out,
so others who would rather plead insanity
Bleed vapidly in their leader's imaginings,
instead of war
who ever thought we had much, such in common?

© Copyright David Bosworth April 2013
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Caroline Agan
8
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Caroline Agan
8
When I was eight years old,
I overlooked a moment of compassion
And challenged the will of a fellow third grader
Compelled by my ignorance
She gave the most astute summary of my life ever uttered.

When I was eight years old,
A frizzy haired girl asked me an impudent question
A question of infinite importance:
How do you sleep?
How do you sleep at night, since you know yourself?

When I was eight years old, my arrogant mind brimmed with resentment
Reaffirming that I,
I, apart from my arrogance,
Was the best person I knew.

I was eight years old, and a prophet had spoken.

Eight years later,
I long to be swallowed by the sheets
Eyes stare mockingly at the dormant ceiling
Clinging to the handrails
As my train of thought
Careens off the tracks
Exploding in a cloud of terror and regret

Eight years later,
I long for the simple arrogance of my eight year old mind
I long to close my eyes
And remember nothing

Because today,
Today I am sixteen
And tomorrow I will be twenty-four
And the next day I shall be eighty

When I'm eighty,
I'll stare at the bleached walls
Succumbing to the force of the past
As it consumes the present.

When I turn eighty-eight,
I'll look to the end of my starched bed
And He shall smile
Saying, "Well done!"

I hope I lie, when I'm eighty-eight,
Because If I am honest
If I tell the truth
I do not know who he is
And I never have
I will be cast away
because, eighty years before,

When I was eight years old,
I was arrogant
But still innocent
eighty years from death
and eighty years from shame
I could have heeded those words
The words of the frizzy haired girl

When I was eight years old,
I could have decided
I could have had him sing me to sleep
I could have died entirely unlike myself.

Now that I'm sixteen,
I still do nothing.
It's meant to be yelled at an audience, not read.
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Benjamin D Pupps
the great hedonist
i tore rabbit fur for my coat
from the fleeing children
of widowed hare
i drained the grapes of every vinyard
juniper berry kiss
i found nothing but bliss
i cackled in excess
bleeding from glass addled feet
with strange women
like ghosts
who shared my bed
i smoked the stars and ate the sun
until Zeus
the beast himself
shot lightning into my heart
his voice boomed judgment
and as i rose
the petals fell from my shoulders
my teeth stained with wine
i stared him straight in the eyes
he boomed again
"why do you mock me?"
i could only smile
i fell from my clothes
and pulled a spear from mother earth herself
i charged him
the great Zeus
was nothing
against the endless pit
of my desire.
 Apr 2013 Tommy
Brock Kawana
When I was born I asked the doctor, how he thought he did?
He recalled,
"Exquisite, it was a perfect delivery."
I rebutted,
"Then why am I still attached to the umbilical chord?"
He snipped me away from the tangling sheathe preventing me from exploration.
I leapt off the crinkling hospital bed paper and onto the goose-bump extracting tile floor.
Playfully bobbing my head as I walked into the world whilst giving the blonde doe-eyed nurse a crumpled note arranging what time I would pick her up for
dinner that night.
--Nurses enjoy being taken care of too.

When I was in preschool my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up.
I told her, "I want to feel the love of a woman who makes me happy everyday and loves me for being me."
She under cut my desired fate, "That's not a something you can work for."
I whispered in her ear, "I know you have never felt love from another person."
She began to cry.
I told her, "That tears are just water for her soul to grow."
She got married later that spring after the rain had stopped,
--Her soul grew enough to show.

When I was seven years old a neighborhood bully stole my bicycle.
I cried for four minutes.
I was angry for about an hour.
Instead of telling him that my dad could beat up his dad
I began to wear my helmet everywhere I went.
I shouted to the other boys in my class,
"I had an invisible superb-deathly speedy-extraordinary-intergalactic- bike."
Two weeks later that same bully gave me my bike back.
As he relentlessly rubbed his knuckles into the top part of my scalp I thought nothing, but that this is the reason why my Grandpa went bald.
Then he muttered through his wheezing breaths of anger,
"My invisible bicycle was much faster than anything your ***** daddy could have bought you."
--Dad's, they love hypothetical fighting.

When I was eleven years old two airplanes hit two buildings in New York City.
I did not understand.
I asked my teacher, "Why would God make evil people?"
Through her tears she explained to me, "Some people are just born evil."
I shouted under my breath, "People are not born evil...
implementing ideas in the sponge of a youth's mind is what is morally corrupt and evil!"

--Corruption is the first cause of terrorism.

When I was fifteen years old I had my first real serious girlfriend.
I did not understand, again.
I exasperated to my father over drinking our first father-son beer,
"How do I know when I love a woman?"
He nostalgically took a drag of his menthol cigarette and as the smoke made it's way through his nose like fog in a canyon he said to me,
"Whenever you look into her eyes and know that there is nothing you wouldn't do for her, that is love."
Before he could reach down and crack another pilsner I told him,
"Dad I look a little lower than her eyes and that is where... everything I would do to her."
--Hormones are a *****.

When I was twenty-one years old my mom told me I couldn't come back home after I graduated college.
I begged her to give me time. I will make it, I promise.
I shouted in the driveway with all my belongings she had neatly placed for me to pack into my car, "How do I know when I am ready to be on my own?"
She didn't have to say anything for there was a brown envelope on top of my neatly folded clothes; that mysterious folding method all mom's know but I
could never seem to figure out,
"Son, you won't know. You won't know until you are poor, hungry, cold and exhausted everyday from trying to make something of your life. The character
you will build will help you later in life when you have a family of your own. I promise. I am not a tyrant, I care too much to see you widdle away here with me
in obscurity and waste all the dreams I know you have. I love you my baby."

--Mom's, even though they don't cut the umbilical chord...they cut the umbilical chord.
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