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Jackson Freeman Oct 2012
I see you from behind my close'd eyes.
O maelstrom tamed, you swirl in colors grand.
From up above gaze down the stars of man,
Those wise deciders, forgers of the skies,
Mechanics of desire need not rise.
Thine ethos shines a light across the land.
Your voice grants sight to eyes of sordid sand.
thine ballads tempt the burning Sun to rise.

You shake my soul as gales doth shake the trees.
O, quake my bones and shed thine holy rays.
To drown in gazes thine would be to breathe;
The waves flood hues in spotless worlds of gray.
up high you hold me, falling to my knees.
O bloom for me, as flowers bloom for May.
Glenn Currier Dec 2018
Donning the mantle of godparent
cannot be blamed on an accident
it is both a gift and a choice
in which the child has no voice.

If it is a decision lightly taken
the deciders should awaken
to the burden it imposes
and the thorns of the roses.

An honor to the invited it might seem
but think about what it means
to the parents of that baby
and how vital to them it may be.

For if this is to be your child
it will not be for just a while
but for a lifetime of growth and pains
a multitude of joys and strains.

In a manner quite distinct
you are asked to be linked
to this person in the ups and downs
to hear both tender and awful sounds.

And think of where you may wander
in your journey out yonder
how your beliefs might alter
and your path might falter.

Wherever you go whatever you do
know this person is joined to you
through your good and bad breaks
with all your missteps and mistakes.

And above all remember you are kin.
You don’t lose.  You don’t win.
You are never never exiled
from Love, for you are both God’s child.
This poem is occasioned partly by a recent deep sharing and conversation with the parents of our goddaughter who is now married with three children. They shared with us how our circuitous faith journey has affected them.  It was not until I remembered my own hurts with the church to which we all belonged that I understood the depth of their hurt.
Sa Sa Ra Dec 2012
I went into the DeepWell this morning for another kinda,
wake up cup more like trying to be with some things need simmering down,
for the flames are bright and looking hot but but but warm and so soothing,
ooohing aaaahining awwwwweing inspiring rather blissfull kissfull blissing,
kissing idk bout hi'way 61 but for of you bro I know about your kitchen!!!!

Anywhohow way idk if I had much a drink at all with wake up or simmer down,
nor a nibble though some things are clear once in a blue year;

IDK like what's going on, down up once in a while or my preferred self setting dip flip switch's,
hahaha but reads are packing and that's good;

having to get back to too many responses 'um think 'bout the president,
the few who get through and we see a few presentations that should all be heard 'n seen too;

for I know we're all just blood bearing beings, counting on air,
but my cabinet I'm all of 'em unless you have more to say speak on this now;

staff, budget, readers, recorders, playback digitizers self routing pouting deciders,
all kinds of chaos chasers 'um not got;

I know so like all here 'um wat's wit dis cat;

what's he working three jobs or three wives 9 kids twelve ways;

nah not a drop so to say exactly 'dat way no more got a few getting on,
where I was and they was already born;

I'm thinking metaphysical then overly scrutinal to be careful both ways and wise,
she-it I can do more da better than a two way street try me I like 8's and 9's,
I lay all out there b4hand dey way den 'um say cats don't won't can't,
what ya ever think I've ever seen any reciprocity;

yah Solomon here we're working laughing crying all;

saw that movie "Anna Karenina" Leo Tolstoy novel base,
ya know the 'precious' 'Lord of the Rings' these sort of 'um things,
JC said along at least the 'Greatest b4 me Solomon' two kinds of exemplar,
(easy SO SO Bud Bud chill!!) one get demons off mans poor missions and happily,
doing 'Gods' love yet 'um well, I talk about these things with blood bearing beings,
I'm not even taking temperature into consideration;

just that I hear know 'dis 'da place gotta do 'da be greater things;

everybody knows Solomon a key why how hum 'um what ya kidding again,
oh so far off out heavy or fairy dust to me man, guess coming all together like JC,
just a bit may be out beyond such ganders of wonders what feelings lost looking down,
the land your feet are even upon, 'um man what about's;

'I'll be your solution if you'll be my remedy';

how does solution need remedy when they just bleed warm red blood a bit too bluish,
what if I say we need 'em all, does 'dat rhyme a chime of too like greedy who what me'eedy;

what ya want to "Possess Me!!!???"
hahahah !!!!<3<3##:):)!!!R

I just wanted to hit dat punchline while I was really in the middle,
but I do have a poem 'The Middle Riddle (in medias res)',

"When the middle is...
just right, there will be no will...towards an ending...!!!";

so back where we're we before the mention, no introductions say already too far gone,
as a wife would have to be  able to have an introduction of such a silly notion no more;

re: refer to as; X'yzzzzzleeeeping;

with that illegally separated easier straighter to say Fb have not figged 'dat one up yet,
Solomon is calling 'em up everyday/night;

let me tell ya man of the woes of Solomon and to me I coined the phrase myself,
so I Google'd it up, for I just thought those cats yonder dare' might have downloaded,
my brain and some well of it's keys and you've got the rest better;

know now I understand it's out there by book, I don't dare look yet before it's clear,
who wrote that stuff and I'll tell by what it won't, by omissions, excessive unwarranted permissions,
I'm wondering, I scan the great collections, not so invasive of more personally assured permissions,
there were days where there were a hand full of very warm open hopeful receptive set of beings,
along some tour that said go west as I was east and by a rather large pond;

do I need go on here now,
I start your clock too 'den what,
I'll get nine codes running inside out,
backwards inside of you,
'den just what can ya do!!!
Lets run... Far and long.
No? Give reason.
For the independent are strong,
and the free fear no season.

Hardships create.
The weathered survive.
The deciders of fate
were once the deprived.

Now they rejoice
in all they endure.
For they are the voice
that was once unheard.

So away lets go...
welcoming the unknown.
Making us even more
than mere skin and bone.
Zulu Samperfas Sep 2012
I see nothing but blackness
Hear only voices
of authority I don't trust
Knowing I'm among people I fear
These days, there is no safety
Try to get inside their reality
The owners, the deciders
Can't
I don't know  IDK
What will happen?
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
you know why the vikings did not care to
****, while they pillaged the conquered women?
why? well... let us not mingle war with
the melodramaticism of women screaming:
help! seems pretty logical, in sentencing these
women into a state of awkwardness -
they they be barren, by not being interacted
with... imagine neither viking,
or saxon plunging his grand dipper into
their fleshy abode...
       who've become doubly scarred
by their abode, with both earth and woman
turned to abandonment -
come the germanic brutes,
         and the natives with:
  wishes laid upon the stone,
and the iron lodged in it
we are but the deciders of our destiny -
and lackluster of the destiny unfulfilled -
made siamese with an ad infinitum decision
making, being curbed, shortened by
the year of chasing a wolf's mane,
while the fox continued his rhapsody of
thieving schemes!

- ibi est vitae, tantum in
    id est qui vita -
utrum in vivo -
                 vel in cogitatio -

danke spielzeung - vielen danke...
     spielzeuge?
*marienburg
und auschwitz!
ja, danke!
    das ist gut abschreckend!
40 days in the desert, deutsche tattoo
on poland is like saying:
            up yours, soviets!

only a man will have a personal
library like a graveyard -
the ****** just reads books by dead
people...
   only women seem to read books by
people who are alive,
and their contemporaries...
men do not have that sort of
"audacity"...
like most men, i am no *****
of sortier eventualities -

which began in the form of VI / XIV -
heidegger...
   i don't write to forget reality,
rather? to immerse myself in it...

you know how roman to greek to
roman to greek works?

  simple, roman letters are sing-along
castrato "morse code"...
greeks? they named theirs...

  αλφα is a noun...
so?
   so what?
you have to extract the prefix
from the noun...

       you have to turn αλφα into α-,
while λαμβδα into, simply λ-...

i don't write to forget reality,
  i don't write to forget: rather?
to immerse myself in it.

people read to immerse if not to simply
forget themselves,
to stare into the cloudy mirror of
a narcissus disguised,
i simply can't write mirror-prose,
you will not see a welcoming housewife
minotaur in my prosaic labyrinth
of what is best ascribed as "poetry";

what comes is an etymological
present, apparent self-revealing sloth
of history, that has rested upon
too many events, and so few
self-revealing factoid impressions...
as memes are to genes,
so too factoids are to facts...
      so few mentioned,
   as to assert the groundwork of sinai.

hence the castrato song -
  struggles with silencing the grief -
as of those once bound to a harem -
these new castrated - to the grief -
the "benevolent" man chose
a third of ownership to a harem -
with one third to secrecy -
and the last third to paedophilic "intuition" -
with the lies being his ******...
and not even 0.33 to a worship of
music;

      it's almost a shame, using the guillotine
on such people:
   and not 20+ blows on the neck
of ****** mary, with a blunt axe;
god, give me a nibbled-off-clean leg
of lamb, to chop these *******' heads off:
then again i don't want to chop these heads
off! i want to knuckle them off
with a dozen or so plum sores,
so they feel arthritis momentarily,
while strapped to a, ******* wheelchair!
nivek Dec 2017
whoever it is that chooses the 'news'
the TV controllers, the deciders of what's worthy but not necessarily 'new'
the rolling banter of newsreaders on repeat

whoever it is who gives everything their OK
before its screened all over the World

I would suggest have a very strange idea of what's important in the lives of most of those on planet Earth.
Brenna Gracely Nov 2017
Dull murmurs commenced as some rose and some lingered
in the established court.
The dense wood doors swung heavily open with a sigh of stale air,
their wrought-iron hinges creaking sharply, the sound reverberating down the empty halls
save all but one,
a young miss who sat up with the muffled movement and shuffles of feet exiting the formerly private session.
Shivering with anticipation she searched for an answer the the eyes of the deciders
who had meticulously reviewed her with great care but little abandon.
All avoided her eyes, not advertently,
just simply unaware of her own perceived significance,
regardless that the decision  so recently made was a direct judgement of her in particular.
Finally, a court clerk caught eyes with her, by intention rather than chance.
At his approach her chin lifted in question
awaiting his word.
"The judgement was unanimous," he softly spoke.
"They determined you are worthy of love and forgiveness."
She collapsed under the wave of her gratitude
as the clerk purposefully shuffled away.
She was left alone in the corridor,
and as she rose her heart rose too,
while her tears of joy fell to the earth
sprouting freedom with each drop.
jeffrey conyers Feb 2015
We
We, the people loves to dive into others business.
Offer an opinions.
Open their lives up for discussion.
Until you run into the truth of someone saying, it's none of our business.

Affairs, of the heart that hits the press.
Some dealing with the famous.
More dealing with the unknown.
And , we the righteous becomes the deciders.
Until that one person states truth.
It's none of our business.

Think, we get upset when others in ours.
So , we should comprehend others business is none of our business.
But it pays to see the conflicts.
It's just apart of our human nature.
Graff1980 Dec 2020
Shots are fired thoughts inspired
by the desire
to see it never happen again.

Heroes walking right beside her
helping hands and lights to guide her
to a less bitter, sweeter, and brighter
world of Justice.

March or die riders share hopeful flyers.
Peaceful protest inciters instead of rioters
fight back against government deciders,
failed healthcare providers,
and other authoritarians who try to deny her
the light that burns so much brighter inside her.
the black rose Sep 2018
..
like the scars from the cuts to my wrists with razor blades, the deciders of my fate, these emotions are faint.. but still here.
saint Nov 2019
INT PURGATORY

A room full of well dressed NYU kids that are all A & Rs, models, artists, and film students chat in a the corner. Buzz cuts everywhere. The spotify pollen playlist plays on repeat.

A point and shoot rises and FLASH. You've made it to a scene where well dressed and well connected kids think they know everything in the world. They think their parents money gives them a vision. And the number of monthly listeners that the data brought in actually means something.

If you try to say something about that tho, you're blocked by the deciders of the culture. So you better work for free and give them all your ideas so their shallow lifestyles don't seem so wishy washy.

After all? You need the connections and exposure pays the bills now!
Sa Sa Ra Nov 2012
I went into the DeepWell this morning for another kinda wake up cup more like trying to be with some things need simmering down for the flames are bright and looking hot but but but warm and so soothing ooohing aaaahining awwwwweing inspiring rather blissfull like kissfull and blissing and kissing idk bout hi'way 61 but for your of bro I know about your kitchen!!!!
Anywhohow way idk if I had much a drink at all with wake up or simmer down not a nibble some things are clear once in a blue year; but IDK like wats going on down up once in a while or my preferred self setting dip flip switch  hahaha but reads are packing and that's good; having to get back to too many responses 'um think 'bout the president and the few who get through and we see a few presentations that should all be heard 'n seen too; for I know we're all just blood bearing beings, counting on air, but my cabinet I'm all of 'em unless you have more to say speak on this now; staff budget, readers, recorders, playback digitizers self routing pouting deciders all kinds of chaos chasers 'um not got; I know so like all here 'um wat's wit dis cat; wat's he working three jobs or three wives 9 kids twelve ways; nah not a drop so to say xactly 'dat way no more got a few getting on where I was and they was already born; I'm thinkig metaphysical then overly scrutiny to be careful both ways and wise, she-it I can do more da better than a two way street try me I like 8's and 9's, but I lay all out there b4hand dey way den 'um say cats don't won't can't, what ya ever think I've ever seen any reciprocity; yah Solomon here we're working laughing crying all; say that movie "Anna Katrenina" Leo Tolstoy novel base, ya know the 'precious' 'Lord of the Rings' these sort of 'um things, JC said along at least the 'Greatest b4 me Solomon' two kinds of exemplar (easy SO SO Bud Bud chill!!)one get demons off mans poor missions and happily doing 'Gods' love yet 'um well, I talk about these things with blood bearing beings and I'm not even taking temperature into consideration; just that I hear know 'dis 'da place gotta do 'da be greater things; everybody knows Solomon a key why how hum 'um what ya kidding again oh so far off out heavy or fairy dust to me man, guess coming all together like JC just a bit may out beyond such ganders of wonders what feeling lost looking down the the land your feet even upon 'um man 'that 'bout 'I'll be your solution if you'll be my remedy' how does solution need remedy they just bleed warm red blood bit too bluish, wat if I sat we need 'em all does dat rhyme a chime to too like greedy whoo what me'eedy; what ya want to "Possess Me!!!???" hahahah !!!!<3<3##:):)!!!R
I just wanted to hit dat puchline while I was really in the middle, but I do have a poem 'The Middle Riddle (in medias res)' "When the middle is...
just right, there will be no will...towards an ending...!!!"; so back where we're we before the mention no introductions say already too far gone as a wife would have to be tobe able to have an introduction of such a silly notion no more; re: refer to as; X'yzzzzzleeeeping; with that illegally separated easier straighter to say Fb have not figged 'dat one up yet but Solomon is calling 'em up everyday/night; but let me tell ya man of the woes of Solomon and to me I coined the phrase and so I Google'd it up for just thought those cats yonder dare' might have downloaded my brain and some well it's keys and u've got the rest better; but know I understand it's out there by book but I don't dare look yet before it's clear who wrote that stuff and I'll tell by what it won't by omissions, excessive and unwarranted permissions, I'm wondering I know I scan the great collections not so invasive of more personally reassuring permissions, but there were days where there were a hand full of very warm open hopeful receptive set of beings along some tour that said go west as I was east and by a rather large pond; do I need go on here now, I start your clock too 'den what I'll get nine codes running inside out and backwards inside of you 'den just what can ya do!!!
Ken Pepiton Oct 31
Listen up,

WE ARE LOCKED IN

we breathe the same air
under the same tolerance limits
to pressure change
from home
balanced
on spinoriality paths,
confirmed as real
by Eric Weinstein,
through long generations
of social revolvings, along a spiral,

ever widening, ever lengthening
ever empowered, some how
or why
ever after
any theorized boom loops
to wobble while sorting ifey and al
re towb rhymes robe, ra' is okey aight
the knowledge of towb ra' okeh aight
lean
alittle left behind kinda
lost scared child fear planter guilt
lose
breathe
List, insist list winds
and listen are related,
hear the helicopters practicing war,

tilt of the ear lent
in attention
to a thought experiment, a will,
a lust
to know, a kleu
in lieu of wissen,
kenst du mehr, baa

make a goat noise.
{Jenny Rae wrote and performs, still}

Sudden wisdoms sometimes stick
the place of the goats is where
scapegoats got away to…
free to graze the balsams

- Ein Gedi, what was the secret?

Without religious authority
many leaders would not
make the connection
Ein Gedi, balm vow
If the first thing divides,
so as to see the other side of things,

when things were mere thoughts,
no noise, no gaseous form, no words
no licensed poet breaking walls
to discover more Phrygian form
of freedom jinns imagined
before Rome, and pride
of freed men, ever after,
to those who think links…


Brevis explicatio Logos nada mas
just the thought
all that is made
believable and un,
in truth's wisdom used
to form the profile
of these tree form
concepts potentials
for budding formed fruits
white space edge wise wits
born upon a recipe or formula
in eretz per se, where is the seed
of all we ever so far have known, or
ever stretched our attention
to grasp at that beyond
our reach, or so we as
unbelievers, let do
been told ask what lies
to believe or burn forever,
by tyrannies , Jefferson swore
to oppose any such, and I agreed,
over the mind of our kind. Not by king nor
by priests who had secrets, holy stories
too horrible
to tell
to just any, heady child
with a will
to discover true kleu

clashing concepts perceived as precepts,
community values, local reception spirit,
- we're adrift
often until lately, it was a reference
to those whose claim
- marked goodwill/peace
on Earthian residence rations
is archeo-logos wise, offered
for all chosen
to breathe.
Earthian air breather rights, claim,
just as deep as any letter user let loose
anywhere we ever learned
to use the tekhne,
- tune Tom's Phrygian Backing Track
available anywhere this line can be read,
even in the dark, starlink the whole world,
prepositioning us always after 2024,
what would that cost, Elon?

Get the never ending story power source?
Tap in to textual spells binding minds, for fun.
You would change next,
more than Carnegie,
you would launch the next text reader expansion,

ask the right questions,
get the right answers, no sense
in taking 42 as cool or hot or stupid.
That is a test.
This is temptation, not led into.
Stretched out attention spans, loose.

If we were to live and never die, ever
after today, it would seem this way,
we would grow tired, and fade,
firm gripe on the football,
gripe, no, I thought grip.

What, me worry?
You must have a Mad infection of memes.

Were we led away
from forced trial and tempt's?
Jeff, should knowledge be free?

Are  you re-always and such real-ly helping
when I imagine praying as one might to a king,

O, king, live forever,
be remembered for making access
free for any with a will to make poetry work again.

-Knock us back to the idea the Phyrigians had
when they dug their city in Tufa stone,

Derinkuyu, my ai knew,
those people,
whose head gear carries ancient memes,
Phrygians, liberty caps, Smurfs,
like on old dimes, or French Olympians
all the trials, all the opposing forces, global eyes
realize, unrealized truth that
we are the crew,
liberty called
to break every yoke
and set the captives free.

We know what Phrygian Liberty is.

The mind behind Christmas sent us,
this is Lifeship Earth, and business is not,
wrong, usury is, and poor who learn how
money works first learn how it does not work,
don't lie
tithing
to a story tied
to a promise and a threat, hanging
over your reformed parents, seen
as young children NPCs
in historical drama, FPS, your eyes,
we see those AGA days, no gain MA
multi mental aweform we see, oh, not us,
it was them, a we of hungry white peasants,

given a gun and an ax and sent to any where,
back when America was becoming Great,
go west, young man,
go feed your own family - you worthless
****, aye, and ever was so, never got rich,
carried some family shame,
and sometimes some pride, appropriated,
evidence, a byword, Pride comes before a fall,

well, tell the truth, USA, is a mythos, not a logos,
both sorts of stories we can turn into drama,

or opera, my Phrigian Libertarian muse, uses
Phrygian background tracks on YouTube,
allowing my estimation
of enough,
in terms
of answers
to questions, common,

what would you expect to do for fun, forever?

Imagine that.

With a will, a vision, a hope it works this way
to empower words
with a peace, we make, whiling
in above average good health,
while connected
to gear that was science fiction
when I got my first Macs,
in 1985, Apple Talking
in this direction
turning our capsule
of creatifity,
into a door

Terra nullius, land unclaimed,
territory
of the mind and other forms
of spirit and will, claimed
at this locus,
this point
in time when your eyes
read these words and think each
must tie
to words common
to us all,
readily recognized
in translation

defusing confusion, discretely
discerning cause, asking why
deciders create ontology
of wedoms
declaring Christmas, message, messenger
to direct our steps
from now
through next,
Messiah,
by any other name, the same,
the promised one
in tales told children,

the promised redeemer
from debt
due
to liars claims
of right, assigned
by Truth, the royal order,

Original Intent is being disputed…
{Please ignor the intrusive ads,
  in context of knowledge now,
  think of it as invincibility exercise}

we post Christmas spirits keep laughing

the promised redeemer declaring,
"I am the way, and the truth, and the life."
Patient, yes, the action.
In logos and locus, where focus fixes locus,
here am I, searching my darkest parts,
obverse
of inverse rectangular portals
light pours
through fitted
in words unsung or said

with authority
for authority sake, as war
is waged, deemed worth the cost, as work
for those charged
with collecting sustenance
hopes of finding meaning attended to,
all in one at once, a trio, soothing musing.
Trinity, if you please, three-way ointment,
soothes and resmooths,
All the balm in Gilead, came from Ein Gedi
it is a lovely place
ai but so disputed
frustration, fraud and beliefs of Socinianism
Brevis explicatio Logos nada mas, yes, those

long winded oral traditonalists
human to human
beliefs, used.

In terms of prayer,
defined as mind to mind,

direct intercession thought,
per haps, as may hap, mediated,
expand to set all lies
at liberty
to be unbelieved
no ritual approach, walking labyrinths
with completed courses marked
to reflect appropriately
on life
after the maze,
by grace and proven virtue
through which the supplicant passes

and is accepted into the purity of time,
constant and true, worthy to test us all.


To truth, I pray,
acknowledging my breath,
acknowledging my comfort,
acknowledging my hope

to be of good use today,
to be of good cheer today,
to be of good faith today,
strong confidence,

I pray, in truth, for the confused
and fearful believers in confusion,
clearly commoner than comfort today
peace
and space

in the realm
of mindshare given me,
in answer

this is what we can know, not our duty
but to know what it does, not to doit.

[[Swearing and cursing] are entirely different things :
the first is invoking the witness
of a Spirit
to an assertion you wish
to make ;
the second is invoking the assistance
of a Spirit,
in a mischief you wish
to inflict. ]

---{the will to ill use the others. }

[When ill-educated and ill-tempered people
clamorously confuse the two invocations,
they are not,
in reality,
either cursing or swearing ;
but merely vomiting empty words indecently.
True swearing and cursing must always be distinct and solemn

.... [Ruskin, "Fors Clavigera"]]

Locus amoenus ("pleasant place")
Ein Gedi, is such for me, sweet balm

Let us all sit and see common joys
as common sensed truths at locus
- all the strings in mind
"gypsy child" (enfant de Bohême),
literatrueerists literally trussed in storied modes

offered as fair told,
in truth of life lessons,
learned and learned anew,

to be retold verbatum to the ostiary

each season, on bringin' sheaves,
each litter
of young'ns initiated
into duty

learning the ways
of warriors or defenders,
or ostiary, gate guard, watch man,

what of the night? The answer, is yours

do we post our tail and tax the patient one time readers?

Or take it so far as to sell it, to the fastest reader?


At first hint of endless ink
and endless paper, none
known as common here
could say no, got no need.

Wish when praying to believe,
wish while praying to receive,

reaching out, empty handed,
take the grace guaranteed, indeed,
by the story told at winter's door,
to be the joy for dark days ahead,
while the whole land rests below,
white cold that kills the unready.

Slow and steady, walking on frozen rain,

thinking, breathing, swallowing, breathe
thinking, this is uphill, yawning, thinking

this is like a chapter in a novel, but,
in all the other novels being read right now,
all the novel readers are imagining tomorrow
from today, which, of course, in human events
is called today, to this very common concentrat-
ed U new ifity, to this very common liberty sense

today, I had to ask some body, was this a pain to read?
A seasonal bemusement for any using such things to while with
jeffrey conyers Nov 2020
The best politicians do the will of the people.
Not guided by parties' philosophy or their minister's opinions.

A good judge guides properly the context of the law.
Brings not their feelings into it.

Dealing, with abortion you find great debates and it's the two occupations that decide fate.

We hear various opinions about not taking a life.
Then more about taking care of it.
But the two deciders place themselves in God's perspectives.

When that should be the purpose of that individual?

We ALL know we wouldn't let anyone invades our house to order us what to do according to their life?
newborn Jul 2023
and maybe i’m not the oceanic girl with satin draped upon soaked legs and arms
who washes up on the beach and interrupts your business, but you’re totally cool with it
i’m not the gentle sprinkler girl with sweet smelling perfume and kind eyes
who sings you a song and you forget all about your other problems just to hear her
i wish i was the sapphire moon-dusted angel beaming on a shooting star
above your home with sturdy walls
but i am not
i am not headlight savage, i find meaning in otherwise meaningless things
like a sudden crinkle in the corner of your eyes
like a butterfly landing close to my nose
i am absolutely nothing
not a mermaid girl, not an album cover saver, not a flapper girl stuck in the wrong time period
i am a deeply disturbed individual
so filled with nothingness that it courses through my veins
and i bleed absolutely nothing.
i do not bleed.
i do not bleed.
i do not bleed.
i do not bleed.
i do not bleed.
i do not bleed.
and if i do, it is in sparkling lake water at one a.m and i am lonely and so ill
and the world can’t fit my sorrow in its deepest sinkholes
and so i sit alone on the dock, in the woods with nothing but nothingness inside of me
and i weep with a mason jar clasped so viciously in my hand that the glass starts to feel sharp and it cuts me but i bleed
nothing
i feel nothing.
i feel nothing.
i feel nothing.
i feel nothing.
i feel nothing.
i feel nothing.
absolutely nothing.
there is sulfur in my lungs and what a lullaby this desperation is becoming to my sore ears
almost like a siren, but the only thing i lure is unsatisfactory algae washed up upon the creaky dock and i’m holding my head in my hands like it’s about to burst, but it all feels so surreal and suddenly i start to feel nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
absolutely nothing
and suddenly, there are butterflies in my throat and they beg to be released out into the mist hovering over the water’s edge, but i can’t seem to gag or spit them out so i pound on my chest but nothing comes out.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
absolutely nothing
and the air wraps around my droopy eyes and i must have been crying till it starts to feel like i’m barely even on life support anymore and i don’t seem to find an issue with that and that scares someone like me who just wants to leap off skyscrapers and lose all inhibitions and just breathe
and
suddenly
the butterflies start flying out of my belly and the pressure is so intense that i try to scream, but i can’t because my ribs are squeezed together so tightly that i almost lose the remaining oxygen left in me yet it doesn’t bother me because i start to look unhealthy and squeamish but i look so little against the reflecting light but i still see nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
oh, something.
something.
something.
something.
something.
something.­
something.
just something
but i just can’t and i accept defeat for i am the weak-minded damsel with daisies collected in her hair, but she isn’t weak she just wants to be loved just wants to be rescued from the sadness that leaks into her pores and descends onto the carpeted floor she just wants to feel something.
something.
something.
something.
something.
something.
something.
just something
but she searches in the places inhabited by sea monsters and abrasive deciders and it doesn’t seem to have an exit or a release from
the turmoil, but the wings of the butterflies get caught in her esophagus and coughs don’t suffice it and now she’s grasping at the last fiber of being that still exists inside of her
but there’s nothing
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
nothing.

absolutel­y nothing.
so much to say yet it’s nothing at all
7/19/23

— The End —