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"caved" poems
I'm living in my mind, walking a road I have paved. Listening to the pounding, of my heart that can't be saved; an empty hole I had caved, long before my journey started, long before my hope strained. Waiting for a fleeting step, wishing for a second thought, but still emptiness lurks, where the love had fought, from how the voices talked. I'm waiting for a different place, of what my mind is not. A saddened memoir, that spoke forgotten loss. I'm falling deeper down, where all the pain was washed, and the guilt caught. In a hidden valley of emotion, of punishing thoughts. Still I'm walking onward; following the road. People told me to hold caution, for it should not be condoned. I can't call it my own, because this road that I am taking, can never be my home--
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
Crossroads
It was the end of the world when Ares met Mars Supposed to be counterparts, brothers in arms But on opposing sides they stood Couldn’t see eye to eye And instead of stemming the blood Each took an eye for an eye Until in time the whole world went blind The sword attacked and the spear struck back But that’s what happens when cultures clash When cultures collide With anger and hatred it starts to divide But nobody wins, cos the dead look the same on both sides It was the mother of all storms when Jupiter met Zeus There could have been a deuce; could have called a truce But each wanted more and more The two as black as thunder And instead of stopping the war Each stole the other’s thunder Until in time the whole world went under The thunder attacked and the lightning struck back But that’s what happens when cultures clash When cultures collide With anger and hatred it starts to divide But nobody wins, cos the dead look the same on both sides The underworld shook when the earth caved in Pluto and Hades together couldn’t take us all in We didn’t see when being heartless In wanting the best of both worlds That the second of the two would be darkness And together the weight of the worlds Would send us crashing down to Tartarus The rivers overflowed and the fires turned to ash But that’s what happens when cultures clash
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Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
When Cultures Clash
One thread came loose with alcoholism at a very young age. She recovered. She forgot and proceeded. One thread was yanked loose by a growing tendency to self sabotage. She clawed her way out of the spiral. One thread pulled at others when she learnt she didn’t need alcohol to have a good time. She felt deprived by self-restraint. So she slightly caved. One thread burned along with her personality when she became a stoner again. She was suffocated yet high. One thread was singed by **** She fell back into her ***** habits. She found herself here, but not quite present. She became dependant. As she flooded her body parts with superficial happiness, just a quick release, her mouth grew dry. Then the peeling skin on her stained lips began to stick together and she regressed into a still and faded silence. In the end, she was in shreds and blissfully unaware, alone with nothing but one solitary thread left to grasp at.
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Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:30 PM UTC
Shreds of She
(1) The day she visited the dissecting room They had four men laid out, black as burnt turkey, Already half unstrung. A vinegary fume Of the death vats clung to them; The white-smocked boys started working. The head of his cadaver had caved in, And she could scarcely make out anything In that rubble of skull plates and old leather. A sallow piece of string held it together. In their jars the snail-nosed babies moon and glow. He hands her the cut-out heart like a cracked heirloom. (2) In Brueghel's panorama of smoke and slaughter Two people only are blind to the carrion army: He, afloat in the sea of her blue satin Skirts, sings in the direction Of her bare shoulder, while she bends, Finger a leaflet of music, over him, Both of them deaf to the fiddle in the hands Of the death's-head shadowing their song. These Flemish lovers flourish;not for long. Yet desolation, stalled in paint, spares the little country Foolish, delicate, in the lower right hand corner.
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6.7k
Two Views Of A Cadaver Room
Late nights in your car, listening to turnover and drinking coffee. For the longest time I was that girl in the Paramore shirt and converse. Eventually you asked me my name and to be friends. Friends didn't last long due to the fact that we clicked instantly. From music to mannerisms we were in sync. When I think of you, I smell coffee and cigarettes.   I feel warm knowing I'll always have your jacket and arms to keep me warm. I'm always cold because I know we're both terrified to lose each other. But when I started to drift from you for the first time, you didn't say anything because you didn't want to be over-barring. After a while you caved and finally told me you missed me. But what I miss, is the way it feels when you hugged me and i breathed in your scent. When you touch me, I have no thoughts, all I hear is complete silence. I'm always nervous but more calm than ever with you. You know my struggles and have seen my scars but still tell me its okay and I'm beautiful anyways. I like the way your eyes light up when you talk about the new sextape single; your smile is contagious. You say I make you jealous when I talk about all the boys who've touched me, But no one is more jealous than me when I think about all the girls you've held and told THEM that you LOVED THEM. I don't think I can handle us being "friends" much longer. Every time I'm with you I go to grab your hand but never reach it because I'm scared for your hand to slip out of mine. I never thought of my future because I'd rather be dead, but if you're with me, being alive doesn't sound too bad.
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
I Think I Love You but I'm Scared
Late nights in your car, listening to turnover and drinking coffee. For the longest time I was that girl in the Paramore shirt and converse. Eventually you asked me my name and to be friends. Friends didn't last long due to the fact that we clicked instantly. From music to mannerisms we were in sync. When I think of you, I smell coffee and cigarettes.   I feel warm knowing I'll always have your jacket and arms to keep me warm. I'm always cold because I know we're both terrified to lose each other. But when I started to drift from you for the first time, you didn't say anything because you didn't want to be over-barring. After a while you caved and finally told me you missed me. But what I miss, is the way it feels when you hugged me and i breathed in your scent. When you touch me, I have no thoughts, all I hear is complete silence. I'm always nervous but more calm than ever with you. You know my struggles and have seen my scars but still tell me its okay and I'm beautiful anyways. I like the way your eyes light up when you talk about the new sextape single; your smile is contagious. You say I make you jealous when I talk about all the boys who've touched me, But no one is more jealous than me when I think about all the girls you've held and told THEM that you LOVED THEM. I don't think I can handle us being "friends" much longer. Every time I'm with you I go to grab your hand but never reach it because I'm scared for your hand to slip out of mine. I never thought of my future because I'd rather be dead, but if you're with me, being alive doesn't sound too bad.
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20
Our home has an uneven foundation The walls are crumbling and the support beams are rotting And tonight, the roof finally caved in. As my lungs filled with sawdust I covered my ears I covered my eyes and hid from my fears I didn’t wanna hear the screams or the tears, I couldn’t bare to hear promises of suicide And claims of pure hatred with a dash of cyanide I couldn’t bare to see my home topple over And I couldn’t bring myself to look at their hands bunched up into fists They screamed until they couldn’t make a sound and I couldn’t deal I couldn’t witness such a catastrophe without being scarred so I ran and I hid I hid from their words and I hid from their lies I hid until the worst of it was over And then all was quiet. When I opened my eyes, the walls were intact The beams were solid, the floor was leveled And everyone was smiling. Their teeth were black with ash and soot But they smiled wide, grinning ear to ear And their voices were calm, the yelling had ceased I uncovered my ears. And though their mouths told one story Their eyes told another They were red and puffy, and I could see the pain that the damage caused But they smiled on anyway As did I.
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Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC
collapse
I have sought knowledge, And knowledge did I receive. I’ve read of kings and queens that rise and fall, Kingdoms that have rules the world, Just to crumble like dust. Wars that have literary ripped countries apart, And separate families by walls concrete and tears. But knowledge doesn’t come without a price. It has opened my eyes, And I know everything is not as it seems. I see people who masquerade around, Hiding their true face. And now the question comes to you. Who are you truly, Who is that broken spirit inside, That you have hid? Beaten and oppressed, Never to see the light of day, Forced into hiding because of… You. You left yourself there, And let you rot. Because you never finished the fight. You let the insults beat you down, And instead of resisting, you gave up. Caved in, Curled up, Forever chained to you past. You bare a burden on your back, A shadow the makes you never forget. Scars across your heart, Designed for you to never forget. Who am I to accuse you of this? Because I have searched. And because this is me. And in the end, When the curtains close and the lights dim, And the masks come off, Who will you be? A shadow of your former self, Carried by the strings of those who you allowed to control you? But then my journey’s through, I’m just a mad man with a pen.
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
Price of Knowledge
Visions of vengeance on my mind Awoke a past's persuasive ghost Like a parasite disposes it's host I left her loving soul behind Hearing this demon's wicked rants My resistance caved to thoughts provoked Her love inside me I have choked With these bare trembling hands My restless spirit keen to elope Now indulges in all luscious leisure Yet looking for a hidden treasure With a face not showing idle hope
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
A past's persuasive ghost
palace of lights caved blooms through the body like reality pitted against a comic book not knowing where life came from not knowing how it will end food tubes or road **** is creation substance-less? 24 carat nonsense, or pure wisdom? perhaps bad therapy for lab animals and store front dummies monkeys shudder at needles unless candied with a heroine syringe chemistry a science of belligerence and euphoria pleasure before despair and than a sea of pain and a **** impaling her the lushly contoured female a frictionless exchange of power for ******* ecstatic death as her eyes bob and flutter like cascading echo's my birth tarot card **** of swords her favorite when I push through her like blood bubble gum b l o o d b u b b a b u b b le g u m a **** cathedral of lights flicker spit guttural diphthong like a vipers castanets uterine fire bursts like an appendix bomb her **** a zoo c u n t z o o i am peanuts worms and hay her face a mask to hide behind breath play sibilant **** specter or nightmares shadows and villains aphrodiac gagged and drugged hot ***** bound a big eyed **** s l u t l o v e *** cannibals turn me on her ****** a goddess a Russian roulette for shtttty kisses sploosh she shot me cuckoo spit k o cuck  k o  k o o twizzles willie milk in a drowning moss draped moon orifice under a shattered zodiac wrapped in tentacles of night she turns me on
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
She Turns Me On...Cunt Zoo Manga
It's been a long time since I told You just how beautiful you are, Not because you ceased to be, But because nothing equates to you Anymore -- The seas of metaphor ran dry and The mines of simile caved in, And only you remained, my Warm quilt, my gorgeous Wonder, my one and only, my Siren angel, my Dearest sweetest love -- So forgive this lazy ******* For forgetting you needed Reminding.
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Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
Untitled
A little girl danced to a song her world small and nothing wrong And in that instant she knew that she a dancer she would always be Her dream since the tender age of five she knew that she must work and strive Stumbling, falling, she fell to the ground hurting herself severely she found Years later it was all just a dream everything went back to normal it seemed And then one day she hurt it again but still she pushed on and didn't let it win. For long months she endured and toiled the pain refusing to be foiled They all tried to make it heal but it wouldn't, and her fate it sealed Keeping it hidden from everyone close even the ones she loved the most For she was scared and very angry didn't want to lose her dream you see When it was all too much to shoulder she caved in and the world turned colder. They told her she would have to quite her heart a candle no longer lit She stopped breathing as the world froze blinking numbly she arose Sitting backstage as her music played mutely staring as the future was made And then the music ended and all the dancers ascended As she sat thinking, "is this real?" "Why God? I just want it to heal." Tears frozen in her eyes as she desperately wished it was lies Picking up a flower from the floor all that was left of what was before. Holding herself alone at night the crying girl a broken sight Losing her dream was the hardest thing her voice she found no longer sang What would she do now that its gone? a uncaring façade she would have to don All that was left was memories she wished the unending pain would just cease The poor little girl learned to soon that the world was harsh and full of gloom The hardened girl still remembers a life she had, now ashes and embers. She'll never forget but she will let go telling her precious dream farewell To this day it still hurts but she's stronger now when it wont desert I know this girl very deeply because you see its really me. -Esther L. Krenzin- -Roguesong-
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
Dream
A little girl danced to a song her world small and nothing wrong And in that instant she knew that she a dancer she would always be Her dream since the tender age of five she knew that she must work and strive Stumbling, falling, she fell to the ground hurting herself severely she found Years later it was all just a dream everything went back to normal it seemed And then one day she hurt it again but still she pushed on and didn't let it win. For long months she endured and toiled the pain refusing to be foiled They all tried to make it heal but it wouldn't, and her fate it sealed Keeping it hidden from everyone close even the ones she loved the most For she was scared and very angry didn't want to lose her dream you see When it was all too much to shoulder she caved in and the world turned colder. They told her she would have to quite her heart a candle no longer lit She stopped breathing as the world froze blinking numbly she arose Sitting backstage as her music played mutely staring as the future was made And then the music ended and all the dancers ascended As she sat thinking, "is this real?" "Why God? I just want it to heal." Tears frozen in her eyes as she desperately wished it was lies Picking up a flower from the floor all that was left of what was before. Holding herself alone at night the crying girl a broken sight Losing her dream was the hardest thing her voice she found no longer sang What would she do now that its gone? a uncaring façade she would have to don All that was left was memories she wished the unending pain would just cease The poor little girl learned to soon that the world was harsh and full of gloom The hardened girl still remembers a life she had, now ashes and embers. She'll never forget but she will let go telling her precious dream farewell To this day it still hurts but she's stronger now when it wont desert I know this girl very deeply because you see its really me. -Esther L. Krenzin- -Roguesong-
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58
Two things that do not go together: Oil and vinegar Like two puzzle pieces that don’t fit, one bigger and heavier, the other smaller and lighter. One sits slightly on top patiently, waiting for some impatient six year old to try and make them, squashing, trying to change them and mash them into one picture, you take your bread and you dip, and these two things that cannot physically mix taste perfect. Fire and ice For one is too hot to handle her own heat and the other is too cold to be touched by human hands. Get them too close and sparks fly- he melts from a glacier into a puddle at her hearth, but to his misfortune leaks a liquid love and puts her out. You and me Like the puzzle pieces, I sit smaller and savvier, waiting patiently as you sit heavy and heartbroken over what you could never have but always deserved. But nothing is perfect, because for five years you were too cold and I too eager, and we destroyed each other- you when you caved and I when you drowned me out and now you are so far away. We wait patiently for someone to force us to fit, while everyone who comes along merely samples and says we are perfect.
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Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 8:13 PM UTC
two things that do not go together
Caved into darkness blinded and scared, there is hope to find your lantern.
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
Haiku #5
Sometimes you want what you can't have & resisting the urge is a lost battle from the start... The tempted are quickly torn apart, time & time again the white flag is waved. Another has given up & caved. Temptation has won once more adding to their undefeated score... rules broken & adrenaline is to blame ...it's just the beginning of the curiosity game....
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
The Curiosity Game:: It has Started
Darkness peaks beneath your mask, Eternal lying smothers your task, To be accepted by commercial greed, It stimulates your mindful need, Of personal gain and broken dreams, Place your brain inside a guillotine, To feed your craving for nicotine, Among the thoughts in your caved-in mind, The wind tickles your troubles in and out of time, Your plastic-eyed dolls and cruel songs, Is a portrait of your desire to walk along, All the beauties in the magazines, Drench your face in gasoline, Ignite a match to force humility, Upon your flesh and your stupidity, You used to poke fun at the lifeless on the streets, Now, take a bite of that forbidden bittersweet, Juices of past one nightstands and lost lovers, Enjoy what is less taken to be discovered. There is an insatiable claim to your brain, Alongside your coffee, pills, and bags of ******* Wicked **** sour ***** and dedicated fake, It is your bones against stones karma will break. Liar, cheater, deceptive soul eater, Tis’ the future in the light of tomorrow’s eyes, Where in Hell your soul shall eternal lie.
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Jul 16, 2011
Jul 16, 2011 at 6:21 AM UTC
Wicked ****
A portrait of you I found somewhere, Your eyes had an abstracted glare. Why do I keep this? Maybe to reminisce. A time I caved into your snare.
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Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 5:50 PM UTC
Ex-photo
Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud, Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud, Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand, Golden frame of a sea cradled land. Fishing village, atmospheric hub, Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub, Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall, Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool. Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge, Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge, Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill, Buzzards soar and wise hares are still. Tin mine engine house, towering stack, Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back, White clay peak, geometrical and sleek, Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep. Moor-land, open, untamed, granite strewn, Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune, Tor and beacon, barrow and mound, You’re in God’s own country, when you walk this ground.
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Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 5:05 AM UTC
Cornwall Explored
covered in flies only the letters KYLIN  ILLE were seen. ripped corners of grease, caved in drooping. the way the ants ran, weak to the prophesied speaker. gathered around the mushed manifesto, soaking extensively in the intrigue of carelessness. Ravishing. Only by the absence of thought could I stumble onto the moments before the drop off. a blurred glance at the road, a swipe of unclean against deep blue. easy strides and a weighted spine. in the vacancy of worries a quick glare to the sun, a double checking of unexpected, brisk anger. Your slip n slide fingers, loud mouth cowards. faltering in the responsibility of a finished task. Down dipped merry words of toxic proclamation, viewed by your carefree t-shirt, openly believing it has all the time in the world before it splats against the static concrete and spoils
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Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 5:48 PM UTC
Fast Food
It's something I will never be, I'm a laptop among PCs. Closed, reticent, quiet and private Amid typhoons, peaceful climate. They say I won't ever belong They feel that something must be wrong They don't know why I am this way They think I'll never be okay. Maybe I'll always be alone Remaining attached to my phone Maybe, somehow, I will get by Without ever finding a guy Not that I need one to survive But it'll be nice.. to feel alive. Don't laugh, as you read my weak words Please don't think that I'm sad or weird This is where I can fall apart With poetry, I can pour my heart. I do write much better, you know But right now, I feel a bit low. Forgive me for not being brave The world is loud, and I have caved.
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Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 11:12 AM UTC
Outgoing
*The man with green hair and green hands. A long long time ago When army’s wore uniforms. We were khaki they were grey. My grandfather was fire warden In WW2 he had seven sons And three daughters . You could say he was a bit of a pacifist. Make love not war Was his mantra. He married my Grandma when she was seventeen. They were to stay married for over sixty five years. And produce tribe of ten children. He had spent his whole life Working as a coppersmith For the same company. His hair and hands tinted green From the metals Verdigris. My father was a baby just born In the middle of the war. We lived in Manchester. Money was always tight. But we were happy. Just as Herr ****** invaded Poland My grandad bought our first house. We always rented until then. It was a large town home. The six older boys All joined the marines At the outbreak of the war. They did one act of preparation That ultimately saved the family. They took down an old barn for a farmer And used the beams to shore up the stone cellar of the house. When the air raids came later. We would all huddle under the stair well Until the all clear sirens sounded. When the bad raid came It was the early hours of the night. Grandad was out on fire watch. Six of the sons were on ships In Europe and the far east. My aunty told me much later. When the war was long over. She heard the bomb falling It screamed as it fell. Exploding just outside our house the house caved in and they were all buried under the rubble in total darkness. She said grandma was breastfeeding the baby my dad. Grandad was busy the raid was a hard one. A friend said Frank your house has been hit It’s bad. He dropped everything and ran and ran Breathless he reached the fallen house. In his heart he thought we were all dead. It took ten neighbors four hours to reach us. They pulled the girls out first Then the baby my dad. And finally the dimutive figure of my grandma. She was weeping. She said Frank we’ve lost everything. There’s nothing left. He held her in his big arms Tears flowing from the eyes of a man Who had had a hard life. Who never cried. He kisses her full on her lips A single sign of public affection That was out of his character. He whispered to grandma. That odd Mary Because I just found Everything I ever wanted or needed.*
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Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
My Grandad with the green hair ..A true story from Judes past.
*The man with green hair and green hands. A long long time ago When army’s wore uniforms. We were khaki they were grey. My grandfather was fire warden In WW2 he had seven sons And three daughters . You could say he was a bit of a pacifist. Make love not war Was his mantra. He married my Grandma when she was seventeen. They were to stay married for over sixty five years. And produce tribe of ten children. He had spent his whole life Working as a coppersmith For the same company. His hair and hands tinted green From the metals Verdigris. My father was a baby just born In the middle of the war. We lived in Manchester. Money was always tight. But we were happy. Just as Herr ****** invaded Poland My grandad bought our first house. We always rented until then. It was a large town home. The six older boys All joined the marines At the outbreak of the war. They did one act of preparation That ultimately saved the family. They took down an old barn for a farmer And used the beams to shore up the stone cellar of the house. When the air raids came later. We would all huddle under the stair well Until the all clear sirens sounded. When the bad raid came It was the early hours of the night. Grandad was out on fire watch. Six of the sons were on ships In Europe and the far east. My aunty told me much later. When the war was long over. She heard the bomb falling It screamed as it fell. Exploding just outside our house the house caved in and they were all buried under the rubble in total darkness. She said grandma was breastfeeding the baby my dad. Grandad was busy the raid was a hard one. A friend said Frank your house has been hit It’s bad. He dropped everything and ran and ran Breathless he reached the fallen house. In his heart he thought we were all dead. It took ten neighbors four hours to reach us. They pulled the girls out first Then the baby my dad. And finally the dimutive figure of my grandma. She was weeping. She said Frank we’ve lost everything. There’s nothing left. He held her in his big arms Tears flowing from the eyes of a man Who had had a hard life. Who never cried. He kisses her full on her lips A single sign of public affection That was out of his character. He whispered to grandma. That odd Mary Because I just found Everything I ever wanted or needed.*
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jesus and judas kissed in the garden moments before the world caved in. the gospel of judas says that the betrayer was the most loved of all disciples, that jesus took him aside and taught him touched him laughed. there are two sides to canon, history, myth: someone somewhere at sometime wanted a better story, where the betrayer was held close and favored, forgiven— but the gospels all end the same. the son is strung up for someone else's sins as judas wastes alone in the garden. intention is a matter of interpretation but what is silver worth, really? metaphor disintegrates and you come to me in my dreams. to love you after all of this is apocryphal— tempting yet untrustworthy. you're not judas, i'm just a mortal man, and there is no gnosis, no hidden knowledge, only apocalyptic revelations now. the world is irrevocable, just born. i miss you in the same way jesus met judas' eyes on the cross. somewhere in a field of blood or a forgotten library buried under the earth, there is a better story. over time only becoming more unknowable, hopeful fragments turning to dust in trembling hands.
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Nov 16, 2022
Nov 16, 2022 at 11:48 PM UTC
the gospel of judas
Another late-in-the-day Same way Such a shame No sweat Going sane Don't fret Never tame Heat of the moment Something potent Brings me back Nostalgic flack Heavy with a boost of fullness Coolness Cutting to the bone 'Til the sun hath shone A freighter of light Crashing down to land Superman, Superman! The end is near The end is here The time to drive is over The bunkers and the shelters all hung over Heat brimming with its closeness Waves of air swimming with its force Light to blind The fickle mind That caved straight in the moment it was given time
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Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 11:29 PM UTC
Superman!
Sometimes I feel so caved in, With all my thoughts, all I can do is swim. Through these energies that are flowing from within, Just because I cant stop and ask what’s with him? Why do I always have to make a choice, My mind just wont let me be free, I feel like I have to make a decision but that’s not how Ive learned to be. So let me tell you about this chick I know, Shes not like all them girls that we always see, The first time I met her I grabbed her by the arm, I knew there was a story that was deep. I looked in her eyes and all I can see, her color contacts, that were trying to deceit. But deep down inside there was a story that was real, Her eyes and smile did a good job to disguise, But that didn’t fool me, I wanted to know the story that underlies. The reason why she seemed so attractive to me. Im not ususally a sucker for eyes, but the way she looked at me, Made me feel like she understands how to be free. I should’ve known the story she hides is something that might really hurt me, Because any story that’s locked up inside should never have a spare key. In the beginning I tried to make the situation feel sooooo real, But soon I realized that she had an addiction that was unsealed. Her wandering eye couldn’t stop her from speaking to many guys, Im not saying shes some ***** in disguise, But really she was a free spirit floating around that didn’t know her goodbyes, Even though she realized that might soon lead to her own demise. I shouldn’t say guys because in reality its just one that makes me compete, That look in her eyes was that she once knew what it felt like to be complete. That one other guy had left her so traumatized that shes never willing to forget, It was her obsession just like a cigarette. Everytime she felt angry or terrified there was one person who she knew would help offset, That one guy who she never wanted to regret, No matter the endless amount of time that he made her feel upset, Dreaming in her mind that one day they can recreate that fierce duet. See the problem was within me, I felt the need to help her realize That life is always filled with opportunities If we live in the past and never let go of what we once all had, We ll stay blind and you would never get to see. That there is some other guy that’s willing to improvise in order to help you lead, I got shot down with all of these stories about how she cant commit, The sad thing is she wont even realize how beautiful she is, She lets one experience judge her whole life and all she thinks about is what if. I even learned to like who she is regardless of the lovefilled flaws. Just because I want to show her that her craziness can be fixed. She thinks shes always lost her mind, and that her process is so one of a kind, That no other guy can help her define, who she wants to be. But I learned how to believe, Before my insecurities and perfectionism took over my next decision, But now what I learned is that life not about some kind of demonstration, Its process that involves many years to learn, I don’t know why but I really feel the need to have her in my life, Even though it was causing me concern, Now you know why I feel so caved in, I fell for a girl who wont let me win.
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Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC
Caved In
Sometimes I feel so caved in, With all my thoughts, all I can do is swim. Through these energies that are flowing from within, Just because I cant stop and ask what’s with him? Why do I always have to make a choice, My mind just wont let me be free, I feel like I have to make a decision but that’s not how Ive learned to be. So let me tell you about this chick I know, Shes not like all them girls that we always see, The first time I met her I grabbed her by the arm, I knew there was a story that was deep. I looked in her eyes and all I can see, her color contacts, that were trying to deceit. But deep down inside there was a story that was real, Her eyes and smile did a good job to disguise, But that didn’t fool me, I wanted to know the story that underlies. The reason why she seemed so attractive to me. Im not ususally a sucker for eyes, but the way she looked at me, Made me feel like she understands how to be free. I should’ve known the story she hides is something that might really hurt me, Because any story that’s locked up inside should never have a spare key. In the beginning I tried to make the situation feel sooooo real, But soon I realized that she had an addiction that was unsealed. Her wandering eye couldn’t stop her from speaking to many guys, Im not saying shes some ***** in disguise, But really she was a free spirit floating around that didn’t know her goodbyes, Even though she realized that might soon lead to her own demise. I shouldn’t say guys because in reality its just one that makes me compete, That look in her eyes was that she once knew what it felt like to be complete. That one other guy had left her so traumatized that shes never willing to forget, It was her obsession just like a cigarette. Everytime she felt angry or terrified there was one person who she knew would help offset, That one guy who she never wanted to regret, No matter the endless amount of time that he made her feel upset, Dreaming in her mind that one day they can recreate that fierce duet. See the problem was within me, I felt the need to help her realize That life is always filled with opportunities If we live in the past and never let go of what we once all had, We ll stay blind and you would never get to see. That there is some other guy that’s willing to improvise in order to help you lead, I got shot down with all of these stories about how she cant commit, The sad thing is she wont even realize how beautiful she is, She lets one experience judge her whole life and all she thinks about is what if. I even learned to like who she is regardless of the lovefilled flaws. Just because I want to show her that her craziness can be fixed. She thinks shes always lost her mind, and that her process is so one of a kind, That no other guy can help her define, who she wants to be. But I learned how to believe, Before my insecurities and perfectionism took over my next decision, But now what I learned is that life not about some kind of demonstration, Its process that involves many years to learn, I don’t know why but I really feel the need to have her in my life, Even though it was causing me concern, Now you know why I feel so caved in, I fell for a girl who wont let me win.
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I drive a truck Which makes me a manly man among men To those sissified 70's I never caved in Heck yea, that's country not disco You hear blaring in the back Which sometimes rattles the triggers lose On my shotgun rack And yes I do live down South But not a redneck per say My camouflage leisure suit I only wear holidays Or out to special dinners Say Denny's or Huddle House You know those fancy places Where there's no spitting allowed So getting anything more outta me I wish you good luck Now where was I going with this? Oh yea...I drive a truck
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 1:39 PM UTC
I Drive A Truck