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Wilkes Arnold Jan 13
Have you ever been to Nomansland?
It's full of smiles, laughter, dread and dearth
Of any repercussions
If you're Russian or a serf
On a wave that leads to everything
Tho nothing you want first.
Come on down to Nomansland
And quench your nagging thirst

Tired of your burden, want to rest your restless mind?
We have trenches, dumps, and valleys
To poor thoughts of every kind
Relax, space out, while those thoughts race away
That's right
Shut up
Sit down
You have no choice but to stay!

Forget your problems
Lose your worries
Ignore your friends
And family too!
Let your pain slip away
With your ecstasy in suit!
Look at everything, see nothing, through your eyes of faded hue!
That's right
Little lost soul ...
...there is no real you.

Once, in a stupor,
Long ago, through the grime,
Another came knocking here
Searching for their mind.
They were blissful,
A customer served full,
But for one little thought
That rattled round their skull

"I want... it... back."
They must have lost their head!!!
We examined it extensively:
It was perfectly braindead
Everything in order, we couldn't figure out
Where the clanging came from
When we jiggled them about

No matter, don't worry
It's of no concern to you,
We're usually successful
When we stir brains into stew.
Just relax to the ditty of our unlive band
I'm Noman by the way,
Welcome to my land!
Wilkes Arnold Nov 2021
Crisp cloudless night skies
Hear the cicadas' call die
In tranquil moonshine.
Wilkes Arnold Nov 2021
The radio in my mouth is broken
The tuner slides from the channel
It's set
And I'm forced to listen
To others words
In rhythms I hate

The radio in my mouth is broken
The sound is full of noise
And its volume jumps
At the worst times
When I can't speak
Over it

The radio in my mouth is broken
The power button is difficult
And dramatic
It fails in good company
When I need it most
And surges to life
Late at night

So I listen to the songs it plays
To no one but myself
Words and melodies
Wriggle through clenched teeth
While I stare at the ceiling

The radio in my mouth is broken
So I look at others
And they at me
As we listen
To what it plays
Wilkes Arnold Oct 2021
I came upon a sight this morning
Barefoot beneath a street light
On a road made a tunnel
By black trees on either side
Fog was caught between their branches
And the tunnel grew dark
Dark as it narrowed
And silhouettes held eachother tight
But for a blurry glow
Red and warm and all alone
Right at the end of the shadows folds
Right at the end of the dark dark road
And the world is far too obvious
Wilkes Arnold Oct 2021
Which way the wind blows
Why the night falls
Or where it goes,
When adventure calls
My attention grows
Til I drop my pretension
Of depressive prose,
With that said my apprehension
To speak of this romantic tension
Leaves my heart in locked up throes
Its wants and wishes won't be exposed,
I don't know what happens now
Or happened then to bring this out
Why the night falls
Or where it goes
It won't matter I promise, it's what we chose.
Wilkes Arnold Oct 2021
As a child I was told to take shelter in a storm.
"Wait for danger to pass, where it's safe and it's warm."
Was the plea sent down wet steps and the outmatched door
To chase my staccato strides.
I'd lose it, if I could help it,
In puddle waves and wind-whipped tides
Over rocky shores and steep divides
Then stroll down the lane with thunderstorms n' hurricanes.
While the sky cracked with tension and the red oaks strained,
I never felt small nor ever afraid,
Of the forceful rumbles their limbs obeyed,
I felt alive n' emboldened by every squall
Raised higher and higher by the climatic cure-all
Until I could meet it face to face n' eye to eye
And hold its gaze, as though it were mine,
Until the blackened-beaten town and the next day's fight
Seemed bold but inviting, a blinding light.
Wilkes Arnold Sep 2021
On a bed in fair mid-May,
Away from school, work, and play,
Lie a young boy devoid of joy,
Trying to break away.

It wrestled, fought, and struggled,
But fatal aims redoubled,
His iron will held them stock-still,
Neither could break away.

Motions were slow and fleeting,
Instinct and Will competing,
To end two pains in different veins,
Crumble and break away.

Strangling a blind reflection,
White-knuckling throats mid-section,
With fratricide, a part had died,
What's left to break away.

Downtown a young man stood tall,
Behind eyes, perturbing pall,
Lie a young boy devoid of joy,
Trying to break away.
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