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In the good old days
Before rock and roll
******
The velvet underground
*******
Sid vicious
And assorted bad men
And bad women,
In the good old days

No man and never a woman
Would profess their alienation from society
As society was a god society
And if you were alienated from society
You were in effect alienated from god
Which made you a sinner
An outcast
A candidate for purgatory, hell or if unborn or unbaptised,
Limbo.

Thus a man or woman
Would confess their sins
On the first Friday of each month
In the local church to the priest
Who knew them intimately
Despite the darkness
And the little grilled window
And the closeness of voice to ear

And on the first Saturday
All of society
Would be full again
Of forgiven sinners
And the good old days
Would continue

There are of course flaws in this.
In the new days
You can be alienated
From yourself
Your wife
Your mother
Your father
Your sister
Your whole **** ******* of people you know
You don't know

And you listen
To sid vicious
Nirvana
Rammstein
The voices in your head
The dreams of your nightmares
The girls of the canal bank leafy walks
The boys throwing cars at each other in the boreens
The men
The women
The whole gee bang sheebang hee bangs

There are flaws in this

And what you project is no longer god
And so no man or woman is god

Cranky tin pan alleyway of a universe
Cluttered with suffering silence once more
As no one knows the unknown language
Of the unknowable when all you can
Know if the echo chamber of the mind and soul and two pence
Mind we rig up with lights and flashing noise
Known as the modern
Keeps mouthing nonsense on top of nonsense
Without due regard to that ******* boat
That brought us here,

Echos of hades, charon, siren siren siren siren

This morning I watched as crows
Grabbed black pudding left out by my girls
On a small wooden bench

And over the hand made wall of dry stone
A thousand bodies kept each other warm
In that other place, no place, some place, where place, what place,
Marked by lichen crusted stone crosses and then some,

Discord they cawed, discord, discord, as they swooped
And watched with eyes sliding magnetically open and closed
Revealing milky white spectral analysis
Of this small earth ball of mucky matter
Which on closer inspection
Reveals much space between
And the nothing inbetween which makes us more of what we are
Much more so than believing we are flesh or bone or even water

The nothing in between, between, the start of and end of the sentence
That begins I am insert whatever the **** twixt the blanks,
And no amount of miraculous sonerous beautous melodifications
About blooming effing flower petals nor soulful dirges
Can be the blank in the between

Is it a scream, a whooping holler, a mouth rounded beneath
Roundier eyes miracling a confrontation with all of space
And
Maria Callas does not end on that note, ever.

I told the crows to *******. I ate the pudding. It is only fair.
My feathers are darker and more spectacular

Though my girls
Whooped and hollered
As I flew away

A space in space.
Sean Flaherty Jul 2015
[page 1] And it was soon after, that the weekend had ended, and I drove home, only-sort-of-alone. Unclean, happy, not the type-to-convert. I don't mean to end the evening by evening the score. "Better than no one," but beating the billboard, and the broad-side-of-the-barn, and the *****. 

You stole from my sewn lips the secret sentiments, which would scare you. You would have been more than welcome to have just asked. Which is probably why I didn't just ask, after, I mean, [redacted line] I hope someday you see this, hope they read it to you, over me, cold. I want you to know that I am a *******-great-friend. I'm there on those days that you don't 
[page 2] pretend. But I have faith (I have no evidence for faith's power, just a lot-of-it). There'll be space, here, for you, in the end. 

I'll look at you, last night, like I looked to enable. With two-eyes, and no movement, your addiction poking at poisonous salvation. You caught the wordless-stick, so, and subsequently set fire to yourself. This sharing of cigarettes was seen by the Absent-Folk. Jarring, I gathered. "At least," I had thought. 

At least, at that point, he, stood-up, stumbled away. "*******." Am I sure? No? "No." Neither bad blood, nor enough time-spent-forgetting my bleeding, my beaurocracy, or your backpacking abroad. I mumble, and I'm bumbling now, but before... I bet... that boy's been broken. And his riled-up "Ryan!" rang my [page 3] soul. My ever-loving soul! My non-existent, unconvincing, numbed-and-listless, inner-business! And on the porch, in the mourning, I wished him, dishonest, and shaved off his ***** hair. 

And on that porch, 'round 9 A.M., the band was packing up. Personally? "People-watchin'." Probably should check that they're actually... even... there. Probably should hear the percussionist explain rhythm, again. I can't tell if it's in seven-eight or three-four. I'll scoop up all your passion, as it spills out through the doors. Not isolated, all-four! Volume-set. Vicariously, sailing very... south (towards New Orleans, again) leaves in the river, collected for the raft, stacked neatly in the Pile. Vitamins, from the Oldest-Living-star, absorbed through skin, and eardrums.

[page 4] Stuck on the surprise of "****-function?" More surprised the ****-function wasn't ******? "No?" Not-even-sort-of. Not even worth it, with most of my words! "Oh, not including you. You let your ears be lopped-off, by my lamenting. You look like a love I could lose to a friend. I enjoy the loss, for a cause, since, if you're always right, you can never be wrong."

And in my acknowledgement
of my ignorance I become
more powerful than I'd ever 
need be poetic.


Not that my mistress numbered amongst my lamentings. Alas, "merely-explaining." 

"Oi, navigate!" Alas, "it's implicit." Therein's your mistake. [page 5] Implicit implies! I'll sooner strip-search a subject for intentions, ulterior motives remaining unmentioned (inspired, I'd reckon, by the pills I shouldn't chew, and the jokes I should stop making). My unfocused inertia interferes with my ability to infer. 

And if you're still here, you're fantastic. And I find you fascinating. And, I found, you were following. My sorries were useless, imagined-kindred-lies. I'm sorry I had to go and "color it pink." But, I'll copy this page down for you, if you'd save it? The buffer'd seemed beautous up'till I blew it. Shouldn't inquire after you, should I? If I'm still thinking on it, should I ink-it-all out? What was your name, after all? 

[page 6] Was it really an accident, "or'd work seem like hell?" [I've been checking out apartments down there myself.] My shell was left-stinking-up the old Durango. But any newly-blazed-trail leads me "back to the 'co." A larger, sturdy, empty, circle-home, with an unidentifiable paint job, and thrusters that are supposedly-designed to fall back towards earth, and incinerate *(CAUTION: FALLING FIRE). *
"I'm pretty sure that verse is... It's just awesome." One of my best? "It's just awesome!" Okay! I'll remember, to remind you, that I've said the ****-I-say, spent, sped, speeding, smoked-out, and smoking-you-up. Spreading myself thin, like Communion-wafers and sticky, like reunions. 
[page 7] Saying you're glad I came, saying you're glad I came, saying you're glad I came. 

Someone snuck up with a secret. I'd seen nothing-not-standard. Even, in your snatching a spider, from my hands, and moving toward mundane mockeries, meandering, and making-my-year with a yawn. Simultaneously, I heard a sharp hiss, as someone had slowly let the air out of innocence. Somehow, rendering me speechless. Well, without respect to the "Whoa!!!" Spit's still not-red-yet. "Skeletal." Said-right. I suppose if I think hard, you'd screamed adjacently. I suppose I've never suggested a co-operative cackling. You're with it, right? You're with it, you're with me, and "you're my people." You're going to have a good time. You should know, I should've too, but attitude's [page 8] a fiction. An answer-tricked, alive, unknown. 

As a species we suffer, from seeing something done, and wanting nothing else. I'm on page eight, and ready, perenially-crushed into next-generation-dirt, but there, nonetheless. 

Well, "either way," even without you, even with her, even-in-spite-of-her, always because of him. "Always loved him, almost-******-her." Wish: I'd kissed Larry, too. Wish: she'd never married you. Wishing-dry, and diamond-winged, cursed voice, bumped up some orange change to the counter, and then off of it. More expensive than I'd have guessed. Self-consumed and best-dressed. Not rushing in, but wondering, about my-time-left. "And if death squashed potential, was it ******, or theft?" Only [page 9] if---I can look, and---wait, I have enough left, yeah, here. "Thanks, I got you back when I get some-of-my-own." Very sweet-air-tonight. "Mad, I missed the show." All good vibes.

[page 10]
Regal lions, turned house-felines,
in the cave, with so-loved-Dan. 
Thank goodness for the better ones. Thank
goodness for my friends. 

Often, only reasons to stand 
up, withholding coughs and stretching.
Even if you can't interpret all my 
fourth-dimension etchings. 
[page 11]
Sought to state the timeline, as
I'm not strung-on-the-plan. 
And, almost, every human, with
a Facebook, has a band.

There'll always be peripheries 
and, people on the side-
lines, and people craving
air-time, and people, deserving that time. 

All-white eyes, fall back, in 
waste-of-times, and
beer-soaked-pasts. For
the amount they seem to 
smile, you would be 
thinking, "this could last."

[page 12]
"Alas," this feels like the end. I feel like I'm leaving them. Slowly. Silently. The Shadow, to whom Paul'd refer, trying to stitch-himself to my town-skipping, sans-sunlight.
A party, retold, per usual
Ikvaran kaur May 2020
Those midnight memories still haunts me today,
I still remember what we were that beautous day.

With silence spread all over the valley,
You came to my house without a dally.

I felt my heart beating out my chest,
But hugging you after entrant brought it to rest.

Everything was going so perfect just like a dream,
And you started to come really close with such a glee.

My mind got numb as i was scared from this all,
But you said you will always be mine after this all.

With kisses so right and fingers crossed tight,
I exposed you all that glooming night.

Your fingers running all over me exploring my waves,
I gave you my soul before you craved.

In between all we said i love you again and again,
And you said if i forgot you, you would regain.

All the promises you made told me that you'll stay,
But little did i know it was a ****** play!

I thought i was only girl who was supposed  to be your life,
But their was another girl whom you called her your wife.

You broke me all and vanished with a glare,
And i complained to god because that was not so fair.

Throwing your feelings on me you completed your sake of desire,
But what do i do with my feeling now that got so despair.

I screamed, i cried why you did this to me,
You said nothing and left all alone by me.

After such a long time you realised your mistake but we didn't patched up again,
Because you loved that girl and i hope so not if you do that again.
I wanna forget of her memory,
But a feeling of her love story.
did no support to my memory,
To forget all of her past glory.
         She was merely my beloved,
         To whom merly I so much loved.
         But a **** time for my lovely beloved,
         That she later became god bestloved.
She meant to my whole world,
And I miss a lot my true gold.
I became now half to my world,
And weep to recall words she told.
         She revealed no more of her sight,
         That adored my life with dark light.
         Solitary a man seeing her in my sight,
         That none thinks I'm a man of right.
Nothing of the world tastes me good,
As her live  memory turnes me mood.
For her  forget to devour even once food,
But all of her live memory taste more good
         She is such my beautous beloved,
        I can't forget ever how she loved.         
         She is such an outlive cute beloved,
         To whom I always decently loved.
She became now a twinkling star,
With a great distinction like pole star.
I feel her really so close not so far,
Thanks to god for being her close not so far...










                  

              
              

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— The End —