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Everything that is happening is happening.
It is happening everything all at once.
The destiny sets it's mark,
Finds the right arc,
Budding up the mystic ideas in our head.

Rumbles and grumbles,
There is a rebellious thought
Always finding faults.
Like it could be ideal and better,
There is nothing out like such matter.

Great minds die, like any other minds
When times come,
The ordinary minds construct the statues
Like that would be helpful in truth,
Like really would it be any good?

It's the gloom look in every eyes,
The tension lines when they close them,
Somehow whatever happens,
It happens, and we breathe in the new chemical.
Look at us, we are nothing special.
I'm almost positive I heard them talking

Talking in their protective, yet complaining manner

They say, they only get to interact with the weak

They say, they're all too often held responsible for the bond between others

What's the matter with them?

They're the ones full of chemistry

They're the ones who can escape scott free

While I have to stay inside and act positive about it

Just once I'd like to not be in the middle of everything
Y2K
At midnight
I will scare myself
into the new millennium

with dates
and charts
and graphs

about fractions
and formulas
and fundamental folly

all because
some genius thought
that in the grand scheme
of things

2 > 4
I’m in a contest I can’t win
Or even come in second.
My bird has flown from the streetlight arm
And taken promise with it.

Another lands and then departs
To mock my hopeful prayers
The sky teems with symbolic fowl
But I can’t suss their meaning.

A big one flew straight over me
But I can’t read its message.
Was it promising good health
Or telling me it’s sorry

That I’ll only get just what I have
To get me through tomorrow
And if I am not strong enough
The game will then be over.

Why are birds the messengers
In answer to my pleas
They send me signals I can’t read
And I walk on in darkness.
ljm
I've fixated on birds as messengers from....God?
One million grains of Sand
Hitched a ride home from the beach

Hidden in the folds of my clothes
And from my locks, down to my feet



These one million grains of You
Just aren't enough memories

I heard your laugh in a dream last night
And was carried back out to sea
How Duth thou
Go forth
Wence from ere
Thou did came
Thence thy sallied by
Twixst the lullaby
''Twas to blame.
He's had a few.
The relative temperature of light
Is apparent to those that
Got arseholed in Spain
Fell asleep doubled over naked on the balcony
And thus exposed their fruit baskets
To the blistering morning
Takes awhile
But
The burn it keeps coming.
I love,

the desperation
as if wandering lost on a mountain.

I love the solitude
and the loneliness of being
compelled to love.

i love the desperation.

the wolf hidden in my wild heart
howling at a streetlight

and the sorrow of distant echoes in my head
and the laughter coming from an empty bed.
the mountain ledge whistling in the mist.
the pierce of thorn from the rose
clutched tightly in my fist.


some never feel more alive
as love fades into the silence
of sweet lies and blue skies.

just never show the fear that's in your eyes.
never shed a tear for the rose refused.
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