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Nat Lipstadt Nov 2022
How many poems does one individual contain?

Ahh you say!

Why unlimited are our of-coursing emotional exhalations,
our sighted and insighted sparks
like forest fires they come ad infinitum!

THEN the mind’s eye blinks, then word blindness follows
in phased arrays of
gaps that cannot always be easy pencil filled, permanent inked,
as locked and closeted,
and put away in a glass jar of formaldehyde.

I see, I feel, I hear, I read and react;
a notion,
a title born,
perhaps even a line or two follow-on scratched and etched,
even refetched
but followed then
by the deafening quietude of a stillbirth breeched
 fetus,
the emptiness of a blanketing blank,
a glance too short,
a foam extrusion whitening the spark into nothingness,
the death of a poem in a forest…

and you can’t care!

more such wordless poems have I buried than the
talkative children I’ve birthed,
old age delimits me now, my eyes failing, my hearing lessening,
the senses eroding, and worse, the frustration morphs
NOT INTO caring,
for the days of wine and roses, the mid-of-night urgency of
try, try poetic ****** is now a sinful spilled residue
on the wooden floor,
crumpled sheets of spermatozoa failure to perform…

the wastebasket
is a into a silo of mockery, a self-administered glass shot
of saltwater, bitter herbs, lamentations, an impassable gateway nominally know as 502, a wide, emptied moat of “haha on you!”

thus an answer forms,
there is no endless, growing,
inhumanly impossible trumpeting crescendo voice that doesn’t falter, eventually!
a petering out, a tangled, gordon knot of a shoe-laced Nat voice that cannot be untied by creaking fingers that scream ¡no más!

Even though
you believe, you yet possess the tools, though well worn smooth,
the belt lies heavy on the hips and its removal a welcoming
enlightening!

let me abide in peace, trigger me not, and the
answer is and always had been, this one, or the next one,
or the one prior is perhaps the finale, you will never know,
and if you do,
you will never permit yourself to utter aloud,

terminé et terminé!

in sæcula sæculorum imperf!

forever and forever unfinished finish!

!last one out, turn off the light!
10-30-2022
Y Rada Nov 2016
My superman, my duke, my demigod!
Ahh your visage was absolute perfection!
"I'm in control, you're in my world now"
I chanted in my thoughts many times -

I approached you with so much confidence
Femininity was my golden armour
Seduction was my double edged sword
Slowly, lustily, hungrily - - - -

WAIT!

****! This dream was my realm
Then why was she here with you?
I gulped down my surprise because
You stared and smiled at me gently

"Oh, my prince charming" I thought
You nodded at me and said respectfully
"My fiance & I would like to order our lunch..."
I didn't hear you because I fell on a black-hole!

I suddenly woke up with tears on my cheeks
I didn't know which was worse actually
My dream last night about you and her or
The reality that you will never be mine - - -
Dedicated to all those who got nightmares like these instead of sweet dreams. Tsk tsk, dreams are supposedly our realms to be with the person we adore. But reality sometimes caught us - even in our dreams.
jackierutherford Jul 2016
Hmm,
At first sight
I like ...
Our eyes met, we smiled
The feeling is mutual
I can tell

Didn't think it possible but
It happened
Just like that!
I'm hooked
My summer crush

I looked up
A hand came in view
It was him, looking straight in my eyes

I melted on the spot
Took his hand and squeezed
The cougar in me purred with delight

Ahh, it's real
Mon cheri - those eyes
Always roaming to find the other
Hoping no one notices

It's a mutual thing
To just be friends
Not to harm or offend

Feels good
We smile, secretively
Like old friends

Summer crush
Like ice
Sizzling hot
Hush ...
I don't even know his name

Copyright JRap /7/2016
Greta Wocheski Oct 2016
i want you to touch me.
"ahh, you're so chilly".

i want you to breathe on me,
be all the heat i need when you come
close
to me.

our movement is geometrical,
your skin sticks on me
make me wet
so you can cool me.

the coarse hairs of your chin scratch my neck
and flustered i am.

oh,
won't you
touch me
again?
                                            
          ­                                                                 ­             - g.w
what
Pen Lux Oct 2012
I'd rather not do anything today.
leave my plans to figure themselves out
let them forget about me, no more missing.
I'd like to excuse myself from today's torturous repetition.

It's all my fault, admittance of solitude!
what happened to the practice of things I care about?
my cares have shifted, hearts been lifted, yet there's something
still missing: Motivation.

ahhhh, no more worries.
ahh, why should I?
Isabelle Jan 2017
For 939 years he is living
To live such a long long long life
I do not know if it is a curse or a blessing

Centuries swiftly passes somehow
Past to present, present to future
He was there before, he is here until now

Every death of friend or foe
He witnesses and will never forget
Left alone, soul is full of woe

The Goblin’s immortality
Was said to be a punishment
And never an eternal tranquility

The sword stuck in his heart
Is the key to death he longed for
Then only his life and misery will depart

It is only the Goblin’s bride
Can pull out the sword in his chest
So for centuries he searched for a wife

Until fate finally reveals itself
One look, ahh, a lovely bride he met
Sad love he utters to himself

This love will cause him death
But after a long time, it made him feel alive
Now he don’t want to lose his breath

But his choice will only bring demise
And his newly found happiness
Will only last until his bride dies

Pull out the sword, the Goblin will turn into ashes
Let him live and his bride will die
What a tragic story, love until one perishes

“I have to disappear to make you smile
This is the decision I have to make,
I have to end my life”


It was long ago planned by a diety
Immortality not a reward but a punishment
A sad love, it was their destiny
Note: I somehow altered the ending.

Inspired by Goblin, a korean drama which I finished watching last night. It was sad yet beautiful drama. So beautiful that I can't get over with the story.
A L Davies Oct 2011
nightsong/fallsong
nippy nightfog, dark drive (solo)
breathy windshield, elmvale driveway defog,
a naked girl/thru the house panes
whose bareness
is shown teasingly. (full aware)

homestead.
lamplight, "goodnight!", golden readlight.
bowl of noodles -- broccoli,
darkly pacing silent upstairs/eight-track recorder loudsound (genesis/trick of the tail)
weedpipe outside cold fresh nighttime.
outdoor *******/rockwall/hosetap,
posters/scotchtape/pins
(troilus & cressida pages taped to th'wall)
alone with thinkcap, lady dreamin'
(that ***!---ahh!) (sighs)
ragged joint thru windowscreen . . . baked-up mouth pasted---ice tea sippin' (glorious)
warm blankets & an empty bed;
need to get out of this ****** old town
empty; lonesome songs.
---but, think better . . .
this pre-spain hometown transatlantic waitin' sadness won't last
forever.
& tripping gets you nowhere. (snoop dogg)
smoke again and maybe put on
more genesis.
. . .
*(tho it is fleetwood mac instead
that i slap on/toss myself into bed.)
really high.
Rhandom Rhymer Jan 2011
“Isn’t nature wonderful?” the masses shout with glee
Well sure, she’s got her good points but I tend to disagree
Snow capped peaks are captivating I guess I must admit
And to watch some kittens playing always makes me smile a bit

Her painted sunsets in the evening are spectacular I suppose
And man has never emulated the sweet scent of a rose
It’s nice to start the day with a song bird’s sweet refrain
But I’m sorry Mother Nature, at times you’re just a pain

Storm waves crashing on a beach are awesome to behold
And she paints butterfly’s wings with colours bright and bold
Nothing can compare to the laughter of a child
Or the undeniable splendour of animals in the wild

Ahh, Wild, that reminds me why I started on this tale
Why I think Ma Nature’s senile and her mind is old and frail
Why did she decide as I get older, that the hair upon my head
Should  start a new beginning and grow from my ears instead?
theblndskr May 2017
Gusto ko ng isa
" Yun oh! Yung hawak ni
Manong nag-titinda. .
"
Itatali ko sa aking kamay
Habang lumilipad
Sa distansyang abot ko pa,
" Oo, yung color blue ah! "
Teka ilan nalang ba
Ang naipon kong barya?
" Hmm. . Aba aba, sobra pa kaya! "
Inipon ko 'to ng kay tagal
Mga baon na bigay ni nanay.

Itatali ko sa aking kamay,
Sabay naming babayuhin
Ang kalsada papuntang simbahan. .

" Sino yung umiiyak? "
Ahh, lumipad ang lobo niya.
Yung bata, kawawa naman. .
Kahit bilhan ulit ng Nanay,
Sige pa rin ang ngawa. .

" Ano nga bang meron sa lobo niya? "

" Bakit nga ba sila lumilipad? "

Ito yung lobong
Masarap tignan sa kalangitan
Di pwde itali ng matagal
Sasabit-sabit kung saan-saan
Kalaunan, puputok nalang.
Kaya sige, aking bibitawan na. .

"Sige lipaaaad! "
Diyan ka nababagay
Sa langit, tanaw ng madla
Malayo para aking silayan pa
Kinagagalak kong bitawan ka.

Pero wait diba uso,
Yung may kasamang sulat?
" Sigeee exciting, "
Lagyan natin para masaya :

                                 
     "  S a l a m a t .  "
Sanket Shrestha Aug 2014
And before I extended my claws onto your hearth,
I dwelled within a secret passion: I brushed up on sneaking and marking the spot for my next apocalyptic arson
And yet I could never spout the rage that fuels my husk of a being onto your haven
Your abode stinks;
The reek of naïve youth and ***** lust at night
And yet I could never expunge the puny shred of mercy embedded on my aortic psyche
You win this round
For now,
my claws will try to cut the life you absorb from the air that pervades your hearth
Before they turn to fingers, before my wrath subsides in mortal disbelief of its own vulnerable
                                      humanity
I shall incite fresh fear and death inspired odes within me once again

And on a fateful humid night,
I shall let myself perspire at the sight of infant wreckage burning with fervor and life
Your abode in flames of red and azure
And if you burn,
Apologies.
I merely hope your ashes will spark the flame bright for at least a little while
Ahh...such sweltering warmth
Sarah LeMarier Aug 2013
so hazy, I think it was just a dream

I can't help but fight the tears

my first proposal

over the phone

I wanted to say  yes

I thought I did

but you were so far away

why can't we love in the moment

when I am in your arms

laying together so close

so safe

so terrified

ahh this is gonna hurt a lot

your eyes have gotten colder

a distance  between us

even now in your arms

trying not to cry as you make my wish come true

tears come so easy now

I knew it

this is gonna hurt more than I can stand

no longer in your arms

beautiful sweet exquisite pain
Prophet  Ezekiel I finally brought about his company he was the prophet who want to see a sea creature for a long time had been walking back int osee looking sideways at a ******* like me and knowing I noticed that he was not looking back at me because my *** is all eyes on the ocean I just came out of saw it shot down and saw it die in vein I was drownding and had not one person to tell by all mean I was on land as eziakal was in his dream to God Ahh Ezikal was prizedforward what every prophet is a bag of seed an instance when the drop there dream of there furry cat and and have to organize the people to get up off there ***** and plow the land so excited all the people they even invited the people who got exciled for the dream of the sea said it all because how the **** could you explain one group participating in the the bitter riverly as confusion and chaos to get over there because have would eat and half would not because they knew they all knew yes they were in for a time of thinking and who was going to take the first shift they were pros they have done it before the ifrst time they did it thhey all aggreed we will figure it out its alright and at the point they would of starved they didnt hell ya they just knew and everry thing was alright the second time ezijkal came to prophet they split it into a group of 9 for 9 lives and one group stayed and the 8 others left by all mmean we are going to rain on your parade befor they left whoever figured yep went and exsiled them selves and when they got back yep by then they all thoug ht it was an exctatic idea so heavenly rightious till they started discussing it and Victorious said wait hold up you all meant when it rains you will remeber us and come out of hiding and not care if we had died or not die? becazuse I swear I and the rest of these ***** sensed you saing we will ****** you gifted ***** if you dont get up and plow and we all laughed cause it was so funny that you would even say som and on the thing one guy said by all means and was eziakela again he got but ****** excited after he just hookked up that dream of the sea thing again and when he quited down **** no he couldnt it woulnt of mattered if he was at teen challenge at church when one of those mother ******* got down on the floor and prayed to god for and instanence eziakel ya he left outside and laughred so loud for so long the whole hour went by and he just calmed down about 3 minutes probley two before they all came aout and said nothing to him ya bit  in my fable that was the point of ezical to follow in the foot steps of the other prphets even when he ****** everythong up cause he was the only only one left by the time he was done telling them about he sea creature as yep he was not contagiously laughing his *** off but with viwers after an hour ya i can picture everyone fucly in the air with there heads listening and when he stated to talk about the sea thing he looked out in the distance and he swore it was behind him though becuse he had never spoken to an audence before and and ya when you speak to an audence and there terrified and keep wanting to look back at what you fist peered over there heads to see but you did not quite ever peer the same again for yep about an hour yep ezikial kept looking behind him to the point where he made that mother sea thang remebered and said o ya it was when I was standing sidways I always looked to my left but one person in the group yep only the the I d the baby zelda alwasy when standing sidways looked to the right and yep large yep overlooked why did she look to the right because yep the mirrors were to the left and the door that she was smokeing crack behind was to the right the window was always behind her and the pictures were alwasys in front of her before she she went to leave to her MARKIES house she would picture herself there and then pick up the mess of clean clothes yep over and over again and throw them not in but behind the hamper so she could hang them when she got home so she could hit her crack pipe on the florr befor she took off down the stairs to the front door and saw the wood yep I was hitting the crack pipe and not positive so i will dismiss which way my head was swaying when I thought back to just poping anut with my ***** as i turned from the hamper towads **** I finished that hit and would take anothe an 1 more for the mere  realitty that i could not figure for positive sure why i would alwasy come to i had it boxed up back then like you guys and i do now.
Larry Potter Jul 2013
I was hungry enough to eat the **** end of a skunk.  I felt like gobbling the whole mound of concrete that is half an hour closer from becoming a part of my room.  Make that a quarter. I guess my tummy has had enough grumbling, like a seething network of volcanoes ready to devour Hawaii.  I am sure as exhausted as a zombie after a “battle of life and death” handling a plethora of carpentry tools which I have managed to rummage from our dismal basement.  I’m quite serious with the phrase “battle of life and death”.  I get to have this Obsessive Compulsive Syndrome which gulps a huge amount of my rhythm compelling me to put things in place especially in my chamber.  At times, a weltered pen could instigate an emotional havoc.  Or perhaps an inappropriate collaboration of curtain hues and mattresses would be ample to spin the color wheel concept out of my brain.  But now, my walls have done it.  Well, it was just a microscopic sight of a divine crevice, but how in the world could that escape my eyes?  Without a second thought, I approved an avid proposal from my subconscious – a full concrete room renovation.  And that’s how it brings me here, smothering the last square inch of the genius blueprint with this porridge of lime and clay, the hell with chemistry!  I have found out that my room has achieved the piquancy of a sizzling summer noon, thanks to the mist of dust and the precipitating drops of sweat that come tingling down my overheating body.  Ah! At least my system tells me that I’m not a promising patient of ****** dysfunction.  When the last patch has been perfectly planed in place, I drew my last ounce of pure strength and plunged into my most formidable bed, congratulating myself for a job well done. Alas! A thirty-minute nap and I’m ready for a superb coffee and doughnut delight.

I woke up from a cat’s screech. I peeped through the window. The nap breaker was a Cheshire, one with a dimmer fur, the stripes of gray suppressing the darker color.  Its tail enjoyed dancing around its rear, connoting either fear or excitement. It sure has a distinctive mischievous grin.  The feline was on the verge of climbing up the roof by jumping from a gutter about five feet away.  It seemed to have slipped but has managed to bring its **** next to the roof tiles. It stared at me with intent, giving me the macabre look from its glaring eyes.  It’s as if I’m being watched, stalked and examined in a way I couldn’t see, bringing me that feeling of guilt, of remorse.  Urgh! That’s why I hate cats.  Though I’m planning to keep one, I’ll reconsider it.  But what pains me more is to discover that my alarm was not able to do the job and so I slept three hours more than planned.  I looked down and saw the city lights flashing one by one, the beams glowing like a barrier of radiance diffusing into the gloom of the night. I guess this was the price I have to pay. I traded my snack with a peaceful hibernation, turning the coffee into a glass of iced tea and the doughnut into a great dinner with me, myself and I.

I have learned to cook since I was ten.  My mother believed that culinary prowess could be inherited from generation to generation.  And so, she put her trust on me and I haven’t failed her ever since.  This gourmet brilliance proves to be very useful at times of solitude when you got bored of ordering other’s recipes and decided to make your own buffet.  I remembered her telling me that all food would taste good if there is the chef’s heart flavored in it.  Cooking is an art, combining the loops and the whoops of seasonings and spices to the medley of meat and herbs.  Tonight, I decided that my dinner would equal breakfast, satisfying the grudge that I got from skipping my  diabetic snack attack.  A beef stew and a side of paella made my stomach die in joy, appeased at last that my gears are energized for my routinely nocturnal bookworming activity.

I normally hide under my sheets at nine but tonight, I shall break the rules. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll fix the rules next time. Just this time to spare for I have gained interest on this book entitled “100 Years of Solitude”, talking about how one could live happily even alone, just by creating the world you have ever dreamed of. Gabriel García Márquez is dumping the “no man is an island” concept which anyway sounds inspiring to me.  Finally, I jumped into bed thanking Him for letting me outrun another day living alone in a comfortable apartment, free from all sorts of vexation.  I wished for a better life at school, which gives me an imagery of dull monochromatic memories.  I am not that famous but I can be someday.

A heavy beam of sunlight pierced through my window, refracting on the ***** white floor and creeping up to the mahogany table just right at the corner.  It intercepted with the glass pyramid and created a beautiful prism that glittered all around my room.  It was a really majestic scenery, one that I luckily happen to see every morning, a good optic background, I guess. Two hours before class time – that’s where my pattern starts.  Take a bath, eat, brush teeth, groom, check the doors and power, then I’m off to go. Everybody follows a certain kind of pattern, that’s for sure. Whether you wear different types of clothes everyday or use competing brands of toothpaste, clothes are clothes and toothpastes are toothpastes.  As humanity finds more and more complexities in life, they become wired to doing the things and involving the events which they think would give happiness to them and simplify their equation of life.

As a proof, there’s Mrs. Lanny Honeycut from the house next door. She usually sprinkles her daisies every ten in the morning, wearing that friendly neighborhood smile. On their patio, you could never miss a day seeing her husband, Mr. Blake Honeycut reading the daily papers with a round of tea, jam and bread spread on his table.  On the busy intersection stands traffic enforcer, Red Mayer, waving his arms to and fro while wearing that aura of valor, never seem to get tired of doing the same thing over and over again. Thousands go out for work and go back to sleep everyday and that's the status quo we're talking about. Even inside the academic arena, you can still hold on to that thought; I mean the size of the population doing the same pattern at the same time – my schoolmates, enemies and… friends? Well, I’m not quite sure with the last one, but it’s this: they all make a fun of me.  They say I’m a dork, a nerd, a geek, a freak, and etc.  I wonder if they mean everything that they say or say everything that they mean.  Either way you put it, I’m not buying it. I am not what they say I am.  I just like being alone and that’s where I do best.

And as always, the school is crowded with busy people rushing through the corridors. Others are beating the deadlines while some are happy they could breathe for another break. But no matter how busy everybody could be, there is always a time spent for “information dissemination” or chitchats. But only this time, the topic discussed is the same.  I could hear it on the entire campus, everywhere in the perimeter. Another student in the university is missing leaving no trace of existence.  It’s been going on like this for over two months now and the university council has taken their best courses of action to unknot this mystery while campaigns have been running on TV’s and vigils were spent. Not that I don’t care but it seems that this is also happening to other places, I mean, this is not the only school where maniacs could exist and become professional serial rapists in the making. By the way, this is already the 12th case on the record. Weren’t people overreacting to the issue? Isn’t the case overrated? Did they reject the possibility that these people ran away because they got pregnant, messed up or something like that? Soon, the university area was covered with security troops roaming around like a swarm of bees, buzzing and sometimes boozing all the time.

I guess that’s what happens when you hang out too much with friends who are just jesters plotting your own jeopardy. I don’t think it would be good at all to be bothered with things like that because sometimes, it’s also useful not to have any use at all.  Like the king being admired by his kingdom amidst his sloth and compromises.  But that doesn’t mean I’m not friendly anymore. Actually, if it happens that I got company, I would magnanimously offer a treat at my place.  But the thing is, who would likely do that? I’d cross my fingers on it.

Wishes do come true even for a loner like me.  I think I have a fan. No, that would be too sublime. She’s hot and she’s hotter when you’ll know she’s so cool. Quite a paradox, but that’s just reality.  We came to know each other on our lab class. Her name’s Athena, fitting for her twisted logic and good humor. It makes me burn a lot of calories when I talk to her more than a 5-mile marathon could squirt. We were lab partners and we get along well. I just couldn’t figure out where she got the courage to befriend me. I do regard myself as unwelcoming species, but I might work on it when someone tries to knock the door. We juxtapose ideas. Yes, that’s what makes our conversations spin like a merry-go-round. But we enjoy it nevertheless, evident by the crescent smile we both generate out of the craziest topics in store. Once, she interrogated my way of settling wars with enemies. Well, I told her it was my habit of treating them to my house and giving them souvenirs to show how sorry I could be. She snickered and her eyes glowed like the Andromeda and her face shun the whole universe. Oh, I can do this all day long, if only I got hold of time and space.

Today, she asked me if it would be okay if she’ll stay at my place till nine when her dad could be home and she would be able to call her and ask to pick her up. She reasoned out that otherwise, the night would be scary because she’ll be alone in their house, no company, no security. I was puzzled how the thought of being alone could scare her. It is like freedom from any constraints, no ties, and no limits. But I couldn’t blame her. She’s too fragile, too vulnerable to handle it with herself.  With the speed of the light, I accepted the favor.  Well, that goes even without saying.

It was past six thirty when we arrived at my immaculate apartment. It’s great to be an“ OC” sometimes, I said to myself.  I thought of a winner dinner, one that would make her visit worth reminiscing. I preferred Italian.  I cooked her lasagna and drenched the dinner with sherry. We talked a lot until we run out of resorts. I guess she planned it, or I planned it, synergy perhaps.

The clock ticked nine and there’s no sight of her father’s getaway car. But there’s no sign of worry in her countenance either. I surmise it didn’t reach her inkling yet to phone her dad.  She was busy dissecting my kitchen and living room with her very playful eyes. That doesn’t trouble me though. That’s just as instinctive as any other first time guest could get. She grappled her attention on my antique collection of prehistoric movies, like the Scarlet Letter, The count of Monte Cristo and the likes. She happened to love them too. Well, that makes her more beautiful to me, other than the satin white dress she wears. Suddenly, she got the impulse of going to my room. She said there’s nothing more exciting to see than a gentleman’s bedroom. I startled from the request, but before I could say anything, she leaped straight to my chamber with the gestures of an imp. It’s weird to be in this kind of circumstance because I don’t often invite a lot of visitants to my room. I ain’t no hotel crew, bowing down and waving his hand to the chamber’s destination and leading the VIPs to their cabins. Yet this time, it’s the other way around: it’s my cabin.

But now it’s too late to stop her. She molested the **** and I giggled for some reason. Finally, the door opened a crack and a bend of light escaped from inside. She stepped in, and I followed. She was filled with awe not because my room is all made of gold nor did it resemble a royalty’s den. It was the exaggerated neatness and order that greeted her. In some unknown vortex of my deepest imagining, it made me feel like I’ve been through this instance before. The flashback is not so vivid as it appears, but something tells me this isn’t the first time. Deja vu could be working on it, I infer,although I don’t really believe in those forms of conceptualizations. Perhaps it’s the sherry’s spell infiltrating my mental prognosis. But something, I guess, isn’t really right.

I caught her opening a red box that was hidden behind my cabinet. I tried to steal it away from her but she fought back and it came tossing down the floor. Numerous items spilled from the case. A purple head band with the glittering initials ANNE, a ruby embedded bracelet, and a Nokia handy phone exposed the secrecy. This isn’t going to go along well and fine, I guess. A strong surge of desire came from my core. It tried to envelop my entirety and control me like a lifeless puppet. I felt the tip of the pyramid glass in my hand and I succumbed to lose my consciousness.

Morning came and it felt better than ever. It was a ***** Saturday. There she lies beautifully on the deck, like an immortal bud of red rose trapped in golden amber. The cellophane fits her well, and there’s no doubt she’ll be complaining anymore. I already prepared a cozy place for her deep sleep: A 5x2 feet wall engravement which I was busy molding last night. It wasn’t easy making her go to bed but still it ended up smooth and sound. I helped her get up and fitted her in place.I turned on the radio as I reached for my dear carpentry tools. The news was still nailed on it. But this time, the missing case struck for the 13th turn. Ahh, the hell with society! They never really get a way to deal with it.

I was busy patching the last mound of concrete that is half an hour closer from becoming a part of my room. Make that a quarter. I guess there’s no end to this divine crevice issue. It must be following a pattern too. But I can handle it, thanks to this vicarious personality. I wonder if I could get the chance to invite another visitor in my place. But if I do, I would certainly offer the best treatment they could ever have.
Remember..

Your Body is an Electrochemical,  Biological Machine, which is interactive due to the ******-physiological interface of life and wait for it..... so goose bumps are light and or sound jetting out your vibrational resonance and you are falling upward in a way you are not sensing as directional. keep reading...

The fact that, as if you were in the actual abyss of the waters above looking at earth and the sun's light and stars are NOT visible to the naked eye without mater of a filter to interact with the light thus allowing the eye to view the byproduct of the energy that you do not see into the heat and spectrum of light you can see, the by products of the interaction with mater, (* i say this, and no one has yet to say, well, what about the cornea and the lens of the eye it is mater...) Ahh the "Window to the Soul" the eyes, um, there is nothing between you and the light but what you perceive to be , here, try this, we will continue, and then address this.

As you know the light is not visible, and we humans see less than any other known creature on this genetic love ****, um, ship, called earth, and we see the chakras focal lens array as it were of us being Crystal, in nature and the prism of the Pink Floyd Album for which was "in celebration of the comet Kohoutek ( Spout On true translation, what you really believe they named this after a Russian with that name and Hail Bopp after who? oh Hail Bopp means too Turn Off the action of Turning OFF) um yeah. so as we were, right.. or in celebration of the birth of ricci dale scott or badger crow moon / the shine of moon_shine lol, come on I get some fun here right?" later to be renamed and packaged as " The Dark Side of the Moon" like I said, see earlier claim of birth lol. ****, sorry. did it again. um.. where were we.. oh, so as we are the prism and the non-visible light interacts with our um, consciousness we fracture it into the focal points of our lower self's or our body or chakras points or clusters of from within pouring outward the reality you see before you..... um, okay, see imagine we in space staring at the earth in its weird non circular non-ball flat weird half this half ******* lie,,umm sorry, okay imagine we are staring at earth, so seeing since, all things are vibrating in constant vibration and are only in our existence when they are stable and steady in their "resonation" of vibration ie steel vibrates different than glass porcelain vibrates even higher than glass thus why taking a spark plug white porcelain part broken from the rest and barely i mean oh so gently toss it at a car window and boom it busts with extreme violence and force of action, why? because it can not match or actually, it can match the vibrational frequency of the porcelain but by it reaching close to it, it looses its resonance and stability as glass, just as heat can melt all things or actually alter the vibrational frequency in which it resonates at fully stable, it is still stable, but now can be altered then cooled to take a rock round and make a building block and note the handles that were used to move it, but it still has that slow cooling oozing look like so many megalithic building do, or how you can boil water instantly with sound, yes, but I digress here, for light is SOUND, what came before light? and he said, let there be light... said... sound. light is sound. and sound is multidimensional in all aspects, thus the spoken word. but, lets go back, so all things are vibrating, and we are in space, looking at a vibrating earth and well, if all light is not visible till it interacts with mater, that means the light you see, is the reflection of that mater interacting with the non-visible light.... thus you are actually seeing the wait for it.. The Reflection of The Image of a Reflection of a Vibration of mater held stable in this Resonation in which We exist or the image of the reflection of the sound of the thing we are seeing for it is all what? SOUND. oh, and the focal lens of the window to the soul.... well, i think we just covered that, and if not, keep watching and um, loving.  it pours out from within as you are altering that which passes through you, there beautiful. !!!!!
say what you mean and mean what you say for it is this way to be true for what you say is the focual lens of the whole of you. there prism people, on a light sound barrier wave and membrane in between as we, go through. umm. too much there or here at the end? hum, maybe.. dail back a biut maybe...
Nygil McCune Aug 2010
Some movie on Lifetime
ends itself.
I feel like i should
push these keys again
and try to make
some sense of self…
but overall i’m disappointed
because I know that it’s not self
that i’m trying to make sense of.
I’m trying to make sense of this computer,
and the sewing machine
on the table next to it,
and the air conditioning,
and whether or not it’s acceptable
to mention modern innovations
in poetry.

For example, if,
in a poem alone
(because i can talk to you through other mediums),
i tell you
(we’ll get to who you are in a bit)
that i
(don’t worry about who i am)
texted a girl,
(and she’s just as nameless as you are)
does the fact that i mentioned something modern
detract from the significance of the poem?

Of course,
poetry is all about the use of words as well
(sometimes we hang them from the walls
just to see how they make us look),
so i guess really the question is
whether or not
you managed to make it all work
in a way that makes sense to you.

Because honestly it’s worthless what I have to say;
you’re constructing these phrases
piecemeal
(in your head)
as we
(yes,
i’m there too)
push the buttons
(ahh, can you feel it?)
on this computer
to make us
spit out
images.

Haha,
psyche.
these are just black specks
on a white background;
our mind only attempts to give them significance
because we lack it as well.
Copyright Nygil McCune, 2010
Mike Essig Oct 2015
we all enjoy
being birds
of brilliant
plumage
perched
prominently
on wires
in the wind

especially
when watchers
ohh and ahh
at us

but somehow
we never stop
imagining

a better wire
exists...
somewhere

  ~mce
David Betten Oct 2016
CORTÉS
            Trailblazing pioneers, God’s harbingers:
            The shining daylight of the Renaissance
            Now swiftly dissipates the blindfold gloom
            Of this benighted, dark, and iron age.
            And as this dawn of culture greets the globe,
            Our own Castile, of all the hosts of Europe,
            Emerges as its greatest modern power.
            If we receive the bounty of these lands,
            So must we bear our duty to convert,
            And shall redeem these hell-bound debutantes.
            Coincidence?- That as the graceless Moors
            Were drubbed and shunted from our Christian sands,
            And in the very year our spiring cross
            Eclipsed that toenail paring of a moon-
            That new horizons opened in the west?
            Do you not feel, my fresh adventurers,
            That you are precious to the Lord, and chosen?
            Strike sail!                                                          E­xit.
              
ALVARADO                  You heard the captain. Up and at ‘em.
            You porters, lash the tents to tame these winds.
            The horsemen will untwine the provender.             Exit Garrido.

SANDOVAL
            The women must find tinder, turf, and fuel.
            The sun is down. We race against the dusk.           Exit María.

ESCUDERO
            These heavy, gathering clouds have opened up,
            And threaten to bestow unwanted gifts.

DÍAZ
            It is the cyclone season out at sea.

SANDOVAL
            Such scuddy weather bodes a sudden turn.

ALVARADO
            Let’s hustle then to fumble up a camp,
            And save our “oo-” and “ahh”ing for the dawn.
                                                           ­                           Exit all but Olmedo.
OLMEDO
            Thus shall the ardent lights of Europe come,
            And pour upon these newfound neophytes.
            But will they be enlightening Catholic lamps,
            Or a consuming fire to destroy them?                     *Exit.
From my play in verse, http://thefloralwar.com
theboy May 2015
Let me be the memory
you see a glimpse of
when you sneeze.

Ah, ahh, ahhh, you
something not so sad today
party zone with johnny brown

pictures on brian allan's Facebook page profile tapestry

johnny’   hi dudes and welcome to party zone at the royal canberra show

and we have just been entertained by the team d max and boy were they

exciting and the two wheel wheelies were pretty cool as well

and now we have people with some jingles about the show

here is the first from young peter

peter’  i like the show ever so much from the side show to the

fun in the arena, i really like the cars, yo it’s fun and the whip cracking is the the coolest around

you see we have barbecues and chips and chips on a stick and fish and chips

and mate, there is plenty to drink and later there is more fun in the arena, yeah mate yeah let’s party

dude, yo let’s get down

johnny’  thank you peter for that great jingle and now here is harry with his jingle

harry’   party on yeah party on

the time to have fun is now

with show bags and side show alleys and stuff on the arena too

i saw the cars, ahh so rad and i saw the heritage area too

that is the most exciting thing i have ever done

canberra canberra canberra

show show show

the best show in oz

johnny’  thanks harry and here is josh morgan with his little jingle

josh’  oh come to the canberra show and enjoy the rides and ****

and enjoy the cars doing the dirt burnouts, yeah that sounds so cool

and don’t forget to watch the fashion parade

and we can really enjoy that

you see i won a teddy bear and i will give it to my missus

hoping she will really like it, i think she will

this is the best show on the east of australia

come on and party from start to finish

at the royal canberra show, yo dude

johnny’   hi dudes and now we are around the young farmers for the challenge heats

and they all sing their little jingle, here it goes

young farmers

we are the greatest my friend

we will show who will win it till the end

and we are about to play in our challenge heats

and each one will be pressing to win

and mate we are the young farmers

and we will triumph over all mankind, young farmers

johnny’  this is a great day at the canberra show and here is john with a jingle about the young farmers

john’   you see we throw a boot in the bucket and we do it well

and we plant our own seed and we must know the seed

and we unwrap the swag and then we milk the cow, yeah that is cool

as we grab the potatoes and we hammer the nail

and who does it all first wins the battle wins the battle wins the battle

yeah, now we have done all that

we should party hardy dude

johnny’  thanks john and now we see the presentation and it is a good team who won

Johnny'.     Welcome back to party zone and we just had

The ford v Holden ute challenge and here is Daniel is giving

Us a jingle about what he saw

Daniel' gentlemen start your engines

As the ford is going to splash all the stones on us

The Holden does the same thing on the other side

You see as the burn outs and then trying to get around

The witch's hats without knocking them over, they fail miserably

Then as you are in the crowd trying to enjoy your ice cream soda

Yeah mate yeah the car kicks all the stones all  over you

And now after doing so many laps to please the crowd

They go off and burnout once more past us,

And I will tell you all on party zone, yeah it is the right time for partying oh yeah

Johnny'.  Thank you Daniel and now let's find a decent party somewhere, dude

Johnny'.  Welcome back and we are currently watching the harness racing and these

Horses are fighting fit, as we are waiting for team d max and Showtime fmx and there is

No rain, which is good, and now here us young Toby Mitchell with his jingle

Toby'.  It is getting darker and we are preparing for a great night ahead

You see I am sitting here with my fave food, banana bread

It is not too hot nor is it too cold, and we are never to old to enjoy ourselves on this nice Canberra night

You see we are at the Canberra show soaking up the atmosphere

I am at the start saying Canberra show is the best fun you can have


Johnny'.  Ok and now it's time to go, from party zone

From the Royal Canberra show and the fireworks are lighting

Up the sky and weren't the Utes and motorbikes great, yeah

And here is Fred to do a poem about

Fred'.  You see the motorbikes go up and meet

Each other, and then they go down the other side

And they chuck wheelies and so did the ute

Yeah mate yeah it is so fucken rad

And I really like the ute doing a two wheel wheelie on the side

And I went away to buy fresh lemonade and fries

The side show alley was just as cool

You see I chucked up all over little ole you

You hated it and you gave me a wollop

And I gave you a lemonade with ice cream dollop

Johnny'.  Thanks Fred and now here is another act for you

From ken

Ken'. You shook Canberra all night long

And you partied all fucken day

And that's the truth

Johnny'.  Good bye from party zone catch ya later dudes
A rest stop outside of Richmond VA.

The sun is bright and annoying as **** as usal the woman pull's up  in a brand new Mustang
cherry red gleams in the parking lot.
She's living the life but hey sometimes when ya stop to take a restroom break ***** happens.

Halfway back to Carolina me and my loyal hetro companion Bone.
Are doing what two full blooded American men would do riding like bats outta hell
going through this womans cd collection Alanis Morrisett dear lord man do they hand these ******* out as soon as they get there periods?

But isnt it ironic dont ya think?
Flying down the interstate music blasting beers gathering on the floor like brainless ***** at a
Justin Bieber concert.
I gaze into the rearview only to come to realize like weirdos in a schoolyard we are not alone.

Looking at from the backseat appeared to be some sort of old ****** in a diper hey ***** but whatever
floats your boat jesus these flashbacks are getting to be hell.

My amigo slash  fellow tripper of the light fantastic was in  a trance already
into track seven you oughta know the brainwashing was a ******* dam lesbian **** front!
Even I was fighting the urge to go to the lilth fair and stop shaving but the fellas
were so against the natural look oh snap.

Bone dear lord snap outta it were not in a movie thearter!
Sorry Gonz what the ***** up ?
Well my mexican amigo I belive theres a little perve dwarf in the backseat that or that acid
crazy Larry sold me really is kicking my ****.

Looking at me like most do with that strange since of hey should i just get out here
or go with the trip he looked for a second.
Silent in a awkward sense like when my prom date caught me masterbaiting in her closet the night befor
hey it looked better on me anyways  yeah dont ask.

Bone finally spoke you crazy ***** it's a ******* kid **** we stole a ******* kid were so ******.
Jesus we had both been so safe how was i gonna explain this i thought deeply then finally
took a detor from my usal insanity to do something i seldom do.
Think.  

Well Bone looks like were gonna have to get a abortion.
It's already born *******.
My deep thinking and total drunk amigo made a good point it would get kinda messy.

Well maybe we can check it's collar or drop it in the post office box or even a dumpster
hey dont knock it thats where momma gonzo misplaced me strippers there so care free
and total ***** im just saying but enough  bout Katy Perry

Dude are you totally ****** nuts?
It was at that moment the little bald man began to cry.
Bone calm down cant you see your upsetting it Jesus wheres my manners give him this.

Gonz dude it's my last one.
Bone had a point but this little hairless doorstop needed to take the edge off so
the beer was his.

Miles passed as we thought what to do but with this little jumping bean
it wasnt gonna be easy getting into the ******* or getting him a fake ID.
course we could always say he was that dwarf from Austin Powers
But hey even I had some morals the poor little ******* had it bad enough let alone to be connected
to Mike Myers im just saying.

The ride to grandma Gonzos chop shop proved to long for my two drunken companions hey it was past Bones bed time after all he starts drinking at 6 am  .
I gazed down apon the little amigo as he slept so peaceful must have just had a ******* ahh memories.

Then Bone finally came to Gonz what the **** dude I told you stop cuddling with me people are gonna talk!
Like they havent already just go with it and yes I am happy to see you.
After a brief fight and some make up hugs and cookies mmm cookies and ****** harassment it goes togather like poetry and misery winning.

Gonz where the hell is the kid?
My friend seemed concerned I wonder did these two have something going on
yeah maybe that was it hmmm never trust a drunk or a bald headed dwarf in a diper
but grandpa wasnt all that bad.

Gonz wheres the baby !
The sound of the car being crushed made it hard to hear yet still I could here jagged little pill
playing ranting bout what true ****** men were amen to that sister.
Jesus that Canadian ***** died hard!

  Gonz !
Finally I snapped outta my trance oh yeah that dwarf dont worry he's in the trunk.
The trunk! The ******* trunk!
Hey dont worry I left him some beer and penuts jesus man calm down must been his time of the month.

Bone was frantic like when he herd there wasa beer truck overturned on the interstate.
Tears rolled down his eye's once like any good friend i did what all true men do when a bro is crying.
Video taped it and put it on you tube to laugh my *** off later.

Gonz how could you ?
Bone he's in a better place now whats wrong?
You killed him how could you destroy such a innocent thing.

Dear lord I know my pinto is old but it's far from a deatn trap well okay it kinda is but relax
see i popped the trunk grapped the little hamster by the leg held him up high
he's fine a little stinky hey if he cant hold his  ***** thats his issue.
Btw where do we get feed for this thing cause im almost outta dog biscuts?

After Bone finally stopped being such a drama queen Jesus that album had some strange powers.
We were off with are little stinky drunken friend brothers bent on sharing experience
and drugs and maybe some strippers hey kids are chick magnets im just saying
I should have stole one ages ego.

We laughed we cried we found out dipers can really get filled up .
He sometimes it's best not to hold everything in.

And as are money flew from us like braincells from a ******* shoot.
I called the smartest most rational person i knew Richard Shepard.
Who after cussing me for waking him up at 3 in the morning finally explained
it all to me Jesus who ever knew thats where babies came from.

So there we parted togatehr the three amigo's
Man what a party hey Bone?
Dam right hey Gonz i got the stamps on his forehead help me get him in the
post office box.

And after a brief moment like my mind are little amigo was gone
Outta are lives.
We stood there silent.
Hey Gonz wanna go back to the *******.
Amigo all i gotta say is **** yeah !

And like that we were off to more adventures that rambled on for hors till ya want to strangle me or take me home and keep me like a demented perverted puppy that although seemed cute
if petted would just **** your leg.

A week later

the woman sat there with little wahtever the hell his name was in his high chair.
Harvey get the camera I think he's gonna say his first word.
The two parent's so excited  come on whatever the hell your name is say it it.

The little rascal grinned from ear to looking at the object of most means thoughts
I belive the proper term is *******.
Building up the strength from somewhere deep inside.
His parent's so excited and happy he was gonna talk also  hahaha im not right.

Finally little whats his name spoke
****!  ****! ****!
His parents stunned I told you frank not to cuss around him.
I didnt and my names not Frank *****!

***** you I told you your family's ****** up side would ***** everything up.
Yeah couldnt be the total ***** side rubbed off either huh?
It was like a scene from the Waltons.
Little whats his name speaking his first word  two parents
cussing each other out it's so holesome reminds me of home.

Untill next time watch your kids cause theres some bad influences out there
unlike my wholesome ****.
Stay crazy Gonzo
Mikaila Sep 2015
I don't want my life to be a novel anymore. A show. It's beautiful because it's sad, but it feels like it's for other people to look at. Look how strong she's been, look how hard she falls, look how passionate she is. They look but don't touch. They admire but they won't love. I don't want to be a pretty thing, I don't want to be a jewel you examine to see if perhaps you want it, deliberate, ooh and ahh but ultimately decide to set it back down and leave the shop. I am not a thing! I am not a choice. I am a soul that has been treated like a commodity, like a thing, I have been used up and bartered, but I have not been loved, not for long, and never well. And I am wearing out. Tarnishing. A lovely thing gone black with fingerprints but never truly TOUCHED. Every time I feel it. It gets a little harder to conceal the cracks, the dents and tears and scrapes others have left. It gets a bit more tiring each time to say
No, no it's okay, I understand, it is my fault for being what I am.
I believe it less each time. And what then? What when I have run out of meekness? What when I can no longer swallow my pride and hurt? Each time I feel it rising, a tide in me of suffering and outrage, an overwhelming question- WHY would you do this to me? But I know the answer. I swallow the answer like an ember every time it crawls up my throat and screams to be screamed. This is the price of loving a person. Human beings are not tame. They are wild. They come with fangs and fears and cruelties. They come with ignorance and stubbornness. They come with cowardice and pride. And love is defeated in their eyes, every pair of eyes no matter how lovely or how sweet, over and over. I am made too differently to stand and fight against them, and so I have learned to fall, because humans are addictive. These people, these souls. They draw you in and you need their light, their complexity, suddenly you want to comfort them. They are so fragile and so vicious. So exquisite. And so fascinating- for each and every one, no matter how kind, does the same thing with power. They must test it. Touch it. Use it. Their nature begs them to be predators, and they fight it inside, so gorgeously! And they fail so spectacularly! And I fall, wounded, the sacrifice.
There are fangs in me as well, you know. There is venom. Some part of my soul has talons and demands blood. But it, as all vicious things seem to be, was man-made. I was not born with this in me. It rattles the bars of my ribcage and so rarely do I let it see the sun because it has grown from these moments. It has nourished itself on every cruelty I have ever endured.
It says,
See? They are evil inside. They are too selfish to love you. Why do you show them kindness? Why don't you play the game, when you know I hold the power to crush them all? When you know I
Would win?

I shush it with fear and with awe. It is not me. It is only what drags me up when I cry on the floor. It is merely what has brutally, violently kept me alive for all these years and I OWE it, I know I do. I owe it my life several times over now, and yet it is so savage. So cruel. It is the monster that has shown me how to be kind. It rages inside of me and I change its hate into tenderness, and it curses me for my weakness, and we move through this world like a burning ship, sinking and throwing off steam. Moments like this it demands its freedom.
It says,
Take like you've been taken from. Bleed this world dry.
And I say,
I will love it. I will love it until I die of loving it.
And it says:
Congratulations,
*You will.
Hello Daisies Aug 2019
AAHHHHHHH
ahhhH
AHH
AH
A
PIECE OF ME IS BITING
AND ITS CRYING INTO MY FLESH
I CANT STOP BEATING MYSELF INTO DEATH

MAKE IT STOP YOU ******* ****
I WANT THE NEEDLES TO STOP PIERCING
I WANT MY GUMS TO STOP BLEEDING
BREATHE DEEPER AND DEEPER
I WANT SOMEONE INSIDE ME
FEEL MY PAIN FOR A CHANGE
WHILE I TAKE YOUR WHORISH PLEASURE

IM SEARCHING FOR TREASURE
ITS BLOOD AND GUTS ANS MEN
TALL DARK DRUGGED UP
GIVE ME A HIGH
I'VE BEEN TOO LOW IN LIFE

IM DISGUSTING
IM MUTANT
IM GRUESOME
TAKE MY ARMS AND BREAK THEM
TAKE MY NECK AND CRACK ME OPEN

**** MY INSIDES
IM ****** UP
MY HOLES ARE BURNT
MY HEART IS GONE
SPIDERS CRAWL UPON ME
I SCREAM AND SEEK SANITY

H E L P
H E L P
H E L
H E
H E HURT ME UNTIL I DIED
I DON'T REMEMEBR BEING BORN
I ONLY KNOW DEATH
AND THE TASTE OF YOUR BREATH

ASHXHXJ[DJDNKDJDM_FN!DN]
Djsksnsn
DksoJSJSNSNS
SKSKSKS
SJ­SISOI
AISSK
Aisji
Fhi
Di
I break down and break down
Into meaningless nonsene.
I pray that one day it'll calm down
And form meaning behind the scrambled
Maybe even the smallest amount of peace
All I can say is please
Oh God please
Not doing well
If

wish

and simple as that,

a twist...

even a poet could not resist

an orange peel

with their

iced tea...

the smoke from a hundred chimneys

and the rain from a thousand storm-clouds,

a city made of iron and brick

were we fooling ourselves to begin with?

If wish,

if only

and what's to be done next?  

simple as that,

and this twist?

(an elevator that goes to the moon

is even more irrisitable

to a fainted heart novelist)

ahh, a crafters fortune and vision

a grip on a tether ball, a step on a tight rope walker

falling forever into city
SelinaSharday Sep 2023
After many working days of giving of myself in love patience and endurance There are joys in the mist  and I'm Thankful
The days past have had their struggles and blessings.. I have been facing the challenges ..
The mentals cares and the growing pains that comes with time experience and rough edges..
I know Sleep has  been  a thing I have chased, and tried my hardest to pin down.. by accidental falls..
Sleep where are you my heart calls.
But yet my days catch her sometimes..lolzz I mean really..
I crave for certain events on days.. its absence quite chilly.
Yet there are many delays..
But this Wednesday I needed Wednesday the rains fell and poured me replenishment to my thirst, and dear love Wednesday loved me.. dearly  gave me the rest I needed.
Wednesday fell upon me, and gave love, like cloud nine times eleven sent.
I tried to hold on to Wednesday and pouted as it had to carry on...
Now its Thursday and as I labor my eyes cry for rest to sleep as I'm pushing and working strong.
This day has been long..
  My off days are Thursday and Friday..
Sunday and Monday may bring, rest and love, flowers, and kisses and sweet misses
of sweet napping's I'll say..
ahh don't delay..
@ selinasharday_rose H.E.R #POETRY 2023 S.A.M Published.
Its about love
Prophet  Ezekiel I finally brought about his company he was the prophet who want to see a sea creature for a long time had been walking back int osee looking sideways at a ******* like me and knowing I noticed that he was not looking back at me because my *** is all eyes on the ocean I just came out of saw it shot down and saw it die in vein I was drownding and had not one person to tell by all mean I was on land as eziakal was in his dream to God Ahh Ezikal was prizedforward what every prophet is a bag of seed an instance when the drop there dream of there furry cat and and have to organize the people to get up off there ***** and plow the land so excited all the people they even invited the people who got exciled for the dream of the sea said it all because how the **** could you explain one group participating in the the bitter riverly as confusion and chaos to get over there because have would eat and half would not because they knew they all knew yes they were in for a time of thinking and who was going to take the first shift they were pros they have done it before the ifrst time they did it thhey all aggreed we will figure it out its alright and at the point they would of starved they didnt hell ya they just knew and everry thing was alright the second time ezijkal came to prophet they split it into a group of 9 for 9 lives and one group stayed and the 8 others left by all mmean we are going to rain on your parade befor they left whoever figured yep went and exsiled them selves and when they got back yep by then they all thoug ht it was an exctatic idea so heavenly rightious till they started discussing it and Victorious said wait hold up you all meant when it rains you will remeber us and come out of hiding and not care if we had died or not die? becazuse I swear I and the rest of these ***** sensed you saing we will ****** you gifted ***** if you dont get up and plow and we all laughed cause it was so funny that you would even say som and on the thing one guy said by all means and was eziakela again he got but ****** excited after he just hookked up that dream of the sea thing again and when he quited down **** no he couldnt it woulnt of mattered if he was at teen challenge at church when one of those mother ******* got down on the floor and prayed to god for and instanence eziakel ya he left outside and laughred so loud for so long the whole hour went by and he just calmed down about 3 minutes probley two before they all came aout and said nothing to him ya bit  in my fable that was the point of ezical to follow in the foot steps of the other prphets even when he ****** everythong up cause he was the only only one left by the time he was done telling them about he sea creature as yep he was not contagiously laughing his *** off but with viwers after an hour ya i can picture everyone fucly in the air with there heads listening and when he stated to talk about the sea thing he looked out in the distance and he swore it was behind him though becuse he had never spoken to an audence before and and ya when you speak to an audence and there terrified and keep wanting to look back at what you fist peered over there heads to see but you did not quite ever peer the same again for yep about an hour yep ezikial kept looking behind him to the point where he made that mother sea thang remebered and said o ya it was when I was standing sidways I always looked to my left but one person in the group yep only the the I d the baby zelda alwasy when standing sidways looked to the right and yep large yep overlooked why did she look to the right because yep the mirrors were to the left and the door that she was smokeing crack behind was to the right the window was always behind her and the pictures were alwasys in front of her before she she went to leave to her MARKIES house she would picture herself there and then pick up the mess of clean clothes yep over and over again and throw them not in but behind the hamper so she could hang them when she got home so she could hit her crack pipe on the florr befor she took off down the stairs to the front door and saw the wood yep I was hitting the crack pipe and not positive so i will dismiss which way my head was swaying when I thought back to just poping anut with my ***** as i turned from the hamper towads **** I finished that hit and would take anothe an 1 more for the mere  realitty that i could not figure for positive sure why i would alwasy come to i had it boxed up back then like you guys and i do now.
why di i notice good ****. twice rolling he the mc forgot to checkon me so yep trippen a little. cause **** all this **** that yep  mc either jank or on my **** list whats jank its learner so uh whats learner i am alearner i have beeen in the process 4 yep i am 35 and i was 22 at mc and my meeting
JLB Aug 2015
In your arms
Just two days ago but the feeling’s already leaving
I was bent out of shape
I was dry heaving
on my own stupid emotions so
I wasn’t able
to burn the vision of you in my mind
so hot that it stuck
stuck into me like a point in a *****, turning the turbine
and molding the muck
of my reality, in my conscious so clear it
separates from this one from the great spasm called space and time created by…
I don't know why, but, life sometimes separates the score from the assist.
and now i can’t resist
to list
the ball from the bat
the land from the sea
the you from the……
too corny.
I hope that I don’t seem too pathetic, I’m just too empathetic,
and I need to put this to rest:
to me,
I'm afraid we might be
like that bird who had flown from
The nest, and had his body broken by the nets
seizing the life from his chest.
aHH and now how I seem to sling
with a piece of string
a metaphor
back around to tie the knot
around that bird who got caught cuz
Metaphors and me are a package deal.
they allow me to feel.
And in my sweaty palms.
I felt the life leave
after having expected that it would, yet still also hoping that it might not.
But it did.
And everything should be ok but it’s not. And I should feel relived but I don’t. And I should be excited for what’s next but
I just feel sad.
Simon Soane Sep 2016
Many people have phobias in this life,
what for others seems innocuous fills them full of strife,
some can keep firmly on their lid
when they see an arachnid,
they are calm and serene
but then cower when they see forked lightning beams.
Some can stroke a snake
but when thinking of flying begin to shake,
or can skip through massive open spaces with joyful vigour
but when slightly confined begin to quiver.
Me?  I found great white sharks most perturbing
even a picture of one was completely disturbing,
their visage draining the light from the air,
I saw a totally cold demented stare,
terror lurked in every photographic depiction,
like reading a letter calling me to conscription,
I felt briny constriction,
I'd shiver at an image of a wake they’d left in the sea,
that’s made by a thing that has the death glare of Ted Bundy,
making ominous mist,
this big fish is as crazy as Albert Fish.
Smelling blood from far away, never needing to sleep,
these great white traits gave me the creeps;
barely leaving a silhouette in the sun,
but with the ferocity of Attila The ***,
marauding silently to selected prey
even the water gets out of the way.
The seal was just chilling, thinking of going home,
he’d had enough of a daily roam,
about to paddle back in leisurely slow
but then it appeared from below...
a serrated chasm charnel pit,
Atlantis nuclear bombs would look like it,
fanged latch on, a phantasmagoria spectacular;
it bites for keeps this oceanic Dracula.
The aqua fills with gushing red,
it submerges, fully fed.
Anything to do with them would send me to terror filled gorge,
The Reef, or Sharky and George,
I’d scream on instant at the thought of a fin
that dorsal jut carrying sin.
But then one day when I was cowering in the kitchen after one had surprised me on page 15 of The Metro News,
I thought “Si, you gotta banish these deep sea blues.
You can’t keep dropping your pizza at the merely the sight
of a dreadful gaping awful great white.
It’s not a good state of head to engage with fear,
especially with something that’s not even here.”.
So a couple of days later when I was pretty ******
I was like “right, let’s have it you massive fish!”.
I picked up the newspaper and looked right at one,
initially my startle went to a million from none,
but I held my nerve and slowly the burst of scare began to ebb,
I gingerly untangled myself from this great white web.
Don’t get me wrong like getting over anything it took a bit of time,
I could be whistling through Town feeling fine,
and then see an advert for Mega Shark V Crocosaurus and feel a hint of chill in my spine,
but as the minutes turned into months I could handle impromptu shark,
a pic of one wouldn’t disrupt the larks,
or cast a brief pall on a sunny day in the park.
Now I can watch Blue Planet without apprehension,
in fact when David says “great white” it gets my attention,
in an inquisitive sense of “let’s see what these guys have got to give,
we’ve wasted years but now let’s live!”.
I love the malleability of the mind and it’s super anoint,
it can dimmish with ease what seemed like fixed point,
ingrained weighty states can be waved through;
foggy mire to brilliant blue.
What can appear to be etched for rest of the days
can just be a shackled phase,
a bricked up room growing doors.
Ahh, it’s Saturday, I think I'll watch Jaws.
Umi Mar 2018
Gather in a dark night, impurities of the mind caused by poisonous emotions from loss and envy, of spite or jealousy, forming misery.
Love fades, ahh once so innocently precious, yet fragile in structure,
Leaving the servants of it in great despair and even darker hate,
Where affection ruled supreme once the scars of misery are causing a heartache from leftover rampage, a riot now presented. Ah, phantoms
Swaying back and forth between sadness and anger one gets lost in his own blindness, destroying and bringing himself into ruins,
This lingering sadness seems eternal as time passes painfully slower,
An enlighting realisation should do the task and let the soul lost inanihilating, irritational despair grow once again strong and happy,
A spark illuminating the dark, with patience and hope for the future,
But until this event is taking place, a personal hell is what has to be crossed alike a bridge made of anxiety, depression and self doubt.
But worry not all you lost souls who are waiting for light!
After all, every winter and every night find their end and ensure the dawn of a blooming spring dream.

~ Umi
Akemi Nov 2018
Blanket city run along soaked in rain. Idiot Boy wastes his time visiting a passing crush at the other end of town. Slips between two houses and a metal sheet, communal refrigerator in the middle of the road filed with half-empty soy bottles.

Dead bell stop, mocking red blink of the operator. Father arrives, a mess of wiry muscles and hair.

“Hey. Is Coffin Cat here?”

“Who?” Father squints at Idiot Boy’s cap. Idiot Boy avoids eye contact.

“Um.”

Recessed in the blackness behind Father, a Figure says, “You looking for Coffin Cat?”

Idiot Boy nods.

The Recessed Figure turns. “I’ll go get her.”

Father returns to his parched body on the couch, content.

Indistinguishable forms move back and forth in the kitchen to the right. They stop their pacing and glance at Idiot Boy as he passes. Idiot Boy avoids eye contact and slips into the left-bound arterial vessel.

“So this is the heart chamber I’ve been living in,” Coffin Cat says as Idiot Boy enters her room. There is music gear. “It’s pretty comfy.”

“Oh, sick mic,” Idiot Boy says, pointing at the mic behind Coffin Cat’s head.

“I feel like a ghost,” Coffin Cat replies, falling on her bed.

Idiot Boy settles next to her. Animal distance. Intensely aware of his rain-soaked right shoe. “Same.”

Nothing comes out right, intersubjectivity a false God to mediate the impossible kernel of being, nobody can find nor express. Idiot Boy searches for connection. He glances around the heart chamber, at the music gear, but nothing grips. Four pears sit on a table by the window, their skins garish green in the harsh grey light.

Coffin Cat moves from the bed to the floor. She opens a virtual aquarium on her computer; fish eat pellets dropped from the sky to **** out coins to buy more fish to **** out coins to buy more fish. Capitalist investment and accumulation. Every few minutes a rocket-spewing robot teleports into the aquarium to attack the fish. Ruthless competition in the global marketplace.

“No! Why would you swim there, you ******* fish?” Coffin Cat yells as one if her fish is eaten by the nomadic war machine. “So dumb. ****. Why did it eat my fish?”

A knock at the door. The Recessed Figure from earlier enters the room. “Hey, mind if I join?” Their arms dangle like fine threads of hair.

“I like your music gear,” Idiot Boy says, pointing at nothing in particular.

“Idiot Boy also makes music,” Coffin Cat adds from the floor.

The Recessed Figure does not respond. They are enthralled by their phone, streak of dead pixels along a digital chessboard, minute reflection of their own gaunt face in the glass. After an extended period, they decide to move none of their pieces. A gaping coffee grinder rises out of the rubble at their feet. They begin filling it with tobacco from broken cigarettes.

“I’m surprised you’re still playing this,” Idiot Boy says to Coffin Cat. “I swear this is one of those games designed to ruin your life. Get addicted, stop going to work, become a hikik weaboo.”

“Already there, man,” Coffin Cat laughs. “Nah, this is my new job. I’m going to be a professional gamer.”

“Stream only PopCap games.”

Another knock at the door. Tired squander in an endless pacing of flesh. Strawman enters and nods at the Recessed Figure. “Hey bro.”

“Good to see you, man.” The Recessed Figure plugs the coffee grinder into the wall. “You got any ciggys?”

Idiot Boy points under the table and says “Ahh” with his mouth.

The Recessed Figure empties it into the coffee grinder. The device whirs into motion, creating a centrifugal blur, a mechanical and headless hypnotic repeat.

Idiot Boy and Coffin Cat look for horror movies to watch. The Recessed Figure empties the contents of the coffee grinder onto a metal tray. Strawman repacks it into a ****. White smoke fills the empty column, moves in slow motion like an oceanic rip a mile off coast, surface seething with quiet, impenetrable violence.

Idiot Boy refuses the first round. It’s never done him any good. Face turned to smoke and the wretched weight of a tongue that refuses to speak. Headless carry-on as time ticks through the clock face.

The door bursts open. Everybody turns as Manic Refusal or the Loud Person saunters in.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t ******* believe it. They’re selling me off!” the Loud Person says in exasperation. “First time back in New Zealand in five years and they do this to me!”

“What? What’s happened?” Strawman asks.

“Some rich ****** in Australia has bought me as his wife. I knew it, I knew if I came back, my parents wouldn’t let me leave again. Whole ******* thing arranged!” the Loud Person laughs bitterly, before hitting the ****.

“Oomph, that’s rough,” Coffin Cat quips from the side.

“No, you don’t even understand. This is the first time back, the first time back in five years, and I’m being sold to off some rich ****** who owns all the banks in Australia.”

“But like, who is this guy?” Strawman asks, pointing.

“And he’s been reading all my profiles. He has access to all my information. I don’t even have control over my Facebook profile. Grand Larson’s logged in as me, posting for me,” the Loud Person continues. “I met him once in Australia, clubbing, and now he’s tracked and bought me.”

“That’s creepy as ****,” Idiot Boy says.

“So he’s not a complete stranger?” Strawman asks.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t ******* believe it. First time back in five years and I’m being sold off!”

Idiot Boy decides one hit from the **** wouldn’t be so bad. He packs the cone with chop, lights and inhales. Smoke rushes through the glass channel, a swirl of white ether, more than he’d expected. He quickly passes the **** to Coffin Cat, before collapsing onto the bed, eyes closed. A suffocating sensation fills his body. He sinks into the chasm of himself, further and further into an impossible, infinite depth.

“Still working at . . . ?”

“Yeah, yeah. Management. Hospital. You?”

“Like, property. Motions.”

“Subcontracting? Intonements?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Mmm.”

Idiot Boy doesn’t know what’s going on. He feels sick and tries to get Coffin Cat’s attention, but cannot move his body.

“Come on. Sell me drugs, Strawman.”

“Nah. I don’t deal drugs. I don’t deal drugs.”

A strange silence stretches like an artificial dusk, a liminal duration, the hollow click of a tape set back into place in reverse. The Recessed Figure coughs and the Loud Person whirs back into motion.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t ******* believe it. They’re selling me off! First time back in New Zealand in five years and they do this to me!”

The Recessed Figure makes a noncommittal noise.

“I knew it, I knew if I came back, my parents wouldn’t let me leave again. Whole ******* thing arranged!”

Coffin Cat laughs quietly.

“No, you don’t even understand. This is the first time back, the first time back in five years, and I’m being sold off to some rich ****** who owns all the banks in Australia.”

“How about this fella? He doing okay?” Strawman asks, pointing. Everyone turns to Idiot Boy and laughs affectionately.

“Still working at . . . ?”

“Yeah, yeah. Management. Hospital. You?”

“Like, property. Motions.”

“Subcontracting? Intonements?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Mmm.”

“Sell me drugs, Strawman.”

“Nah. I don’t deal drugs. I don’t deal drugs.”

Idiot Boy slowly opens his eyes and stares out the window. The same grey light as before. He moves his arm further towards Coffin Cat, but is still too weak to get her attention. The same strange silence stretches. The Recessed Figure coughs and the Loud Person whirs back into motion.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t ******* believe it. . . .”

As the conversation repeats over and again, Idiot Boy begins to think he has become psychotic, or perhaps entered into a psychotic space. He thinks of computer algorithms, input-output, loops without variables, endless regurgitations of the same result. Human machines trapped in their own stupid loop. Drug-****** neuronal networks incapable of making new connections, forever traversing old ones. Short-term memory loss, every repeat a new conversation of what has already been. The same grey light painted upon four pears by the window.

He’s not sure if Coffin Cat’s laugh is getting weaker with each repeat.

Signal-response. The exterior world oversaturated with variables: roadways, rivers, forests, wildlife — an ever changing scene to respond to — the illusion of depth. Automatic response mechanisms reorient to new stimuli. The soul rises like surfactant, objectified fractal diffusion. A becoming without end.

But within the border of this interior world, the light stays grey. No input, no change; the same dead repeat, over and over, until sundown triggers a hunger response. Lined all along the street, a black box ceremony of repeating machines, trapped in their idiot cults, walls of clay and blood.

Idiot Boy finally gets Coffin Cat’s attention. She helps him through the house’s arteries to reach rain and wet stone, overcast skies. As he shakes in shock, Coffin Cat mumbles, “It’s cold.”

Idiot Boy sits silent on the ride home. Travels through himself. Tunnel through the body or Mariana Trench. Loses his footing before a traumatic void. Leaves the car and pukes.
Michael Oct 2018
(Let us momentarily contemplate the discourse on the first date)
[Adam] Father You've been busy these six days (and hmmmm?)
[God] Yes you have need of a help mate
(From a rib Eve came to life,                                                            ­  
then ribbed me all the days as my wife)
[Eve] Oh Adam! Where shall we honeymoon?
[Adam] I hear Eden this time of year is in bloom
This Rose (of Sharon) is for you my bride
[Eve] Who's Sharon?
[Adam] Let's take these horses (I've named) for a ride
Through the Sharon countryside
[Eve] Oh Adam! Look at the stars and moon I amour
[Adam] ahh yes my love they've been since day four
Oh my fairest with kisses better than spice
Let us again be together on day eight and day nine
Now let us return to our demense
As our Father did intend
Copyright 2002
Paul James Jun 2017
"It'll never amount to owt"
As they say in Yorkshire.
"Ahh mean, 'ers 'int love wit 'ere ole man
'Ant thou's married too!
Giv ova 'ant grow a pair son....."

"I know, don't you think I've been thru this a million times in my heart and head"?
"But I can't give up on her, I haven't told her my feelings, I couldn't.... She'd run a mile, and I'd lose a friend, my heart would shatter into a trillion pieces"

"Aye, but 'ere know thou's sweet 'ont 'ere"
"Lassies know such things"

"But she teases me, leads me on,flirts with me, manipulates my heart".


"Nowt good will come of it I'm tellin' ye,
It'll all end 'int tears...probably yers too"

"I know that at my age I should know betta,
But no age is exempt to love"
I cling to hope,
Each and any crumb that might Indicate that she'll allow me to hold her in my arms
And kiss her..."

"So take your Yorkshire logic,
Your Northern pragmatism,
I can't see the wood for the trees in this 'affair' I know
But I live in hope that one day
She'll tell me that she loves me..."
Swoo May 2022
My sun in human form! I come alive everytime theres a sighting of you.
Everything else shutters in absence  and its Jupiters arora blue aura glowing on me. Nothing pops out like you do. You posses that ting that lights up any room. Ahh sweet home. Jupiters aurora blue aura - Swoo

— The End —