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"demetrius" poems
.                                 J o h n                               Dillinger                            "P retty Boy"                            F l oyd "Baby                           Face"    Nelson                            Al   "Scarface"                            Capone  "Ma                            c h i ne   Gun"                            Kelly  Charles                           "Lucky" Lucia                            no     B u g s y                            Siegel    Carlo                            Gambino Jack                            Diamond Tom                            Devaney Jame                            s Coonan  D a           wood Ibrahcan       Kray  Brothers         Demetrius Flenory  Joaquin Guzman           James  Burke           Meyer Lansky              Bonnie                         Clyde
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
Gangster ****
"I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you: Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, Unworthy as I am, to follow you." Now you see, I am your spaniel, no matter now much you hurt me, I will always be faithful to you, I will always be yours. You could break my heart one million times, and it would still rebuild itself to fit you. I am unworthy of you, but still I am drawn to you. I am broken, but you can fix me.
0
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
Shakespeare knew me
Simplistic majestic magician That weaves cloth Of nothing that is supposed fine Round about fanatics With no one around But the mechanics We are the lost age With no sage but the voice Of a 70's page We revolt against Nothing But the sins of common human torture Could it be? Could it be? That we have reached a modern Utopia washed over with numbers and bummers? "Eee gad!" screams the man "Too bad!" says the unclad band "So sad!" says the rest of the pickled sand Young reefs bubbling in a restless wheeze Torture awaits the man that sits in ye' pasture Time is no friend of yours or Mine Bricks break faster then the heart does For they build buildings Where hearts can break Inside themselves As doves shatter in winged' flight All the while blinking alone In the blankness of the starry hot night Ohh Demetrius that awaited a party That never got started Because he believed it was cool to be tarty Too see is to See What your head Wants to believe Another night past round the blast Where Chicago blistered bleakly And the lights were turned right out Out and fast and out and cast Fish a' bleedin' orange Orange and rocky sands A letter opened itself To a lover that did not Want to feel or see She read it out loud To the pitch of a sound She never meant to reach Imaginary sentimentalists That persuade themselves That they are no man Nor hold no Robotic hand They are The children Of the Evolution Evolution. What a silly Bourgeois Excuse To me Tis' just another excuse To fend off The Noose
0
May 9, 2011
May 9, 2011 at 11:19 PM UTC
Orange Rocky Sands
Simplistic majestic magician That weaves cloth Of nothing that is supposed fine Round about fanatics With no one around But the mechanics We are the lost age With no sage but the voice Of a 70's page We revolt against Nothing But the sins of common human torture Could it be? Could it be? That we have reached a modern Utopia washed over with numbers and bummers? "Eee gad!" screams the man "Too bad!" says the unclad band "So sad!" says the rest of the pickled sand Young reefs bubbling in a restless wheeze Torture awaits the man that sits in ye' pasture Time is no friend of yours or Mine Bricks break faster then the heart does For they build buildings Where hearts can break Inside themselves As doves shatter in winged' flight All the while blinking alone In the blankness of the starry hot night Ohh Demetrius that awaited a party That never got started Because he believed it was cool to be tarty Too see is to See What your head Wants to believe Another night past round the blast Where Chicago blistered bleakly And the lights were turned right out Out and fast and out and cast Fish a' bleedin' orange Orange and rocky sands A letter opened itself To a lover that did not Want to feel or see She read it out loud To the pitch of a sound She never meant to reach Imaginary sentimentalists That persuade themselves That they are no man Nor hold no Robotic hand They are The children Of the Evolution Evolution. What a silly Bourgeois Excuse To me Tis' just another excuse To fend off The Noose
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67
Do you remember me like I remember you? Shakespeare class together in our hippie high school I remember our legs entwined lying on our backs and sharing one volume; you played Demetrius to my Helena; it was spring unfolding all around us and like the most obvious O'keefe sort of bloom we filled up every corner of that room with our untried adolescence (the teacher, frustrated and stern only because I was ******* him too) By the end of that summer my Demetrius had landed in a cell- he could throw a good brick through the window of anywhere I asked but, alas, he couldn't do it well Come senior prom one year later I had forgotten all about him and he about me; forty years later we seem to have got everything we craved, that is everything but the real thing and that's good enough for me
0
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC
Long Lost Love Letter (Stations In Life, III)
The film just ended and I am faithfully here, waiting. Independently of my dependence on you and that now I am not concerned about my concerns, I wait, for your message because I have sacrificed quite a bit for such an uncertain reward as your love might be —I almost wrote lofe—, and waiting for a reply is a bit quieter. I'm sure you must be busy, I am busy too, thinking 'bout you, waiting like I have been for months I guess, till you realised that I am not the only one in need of the other. During this wandering, 'Have you answered?' that's my ocassional wondering, but I check, and you haven't. Doesn't matter. I just wanted to write while I wait. Somewhat patiently. (Laughs) However, it is close to 01:30, thus, as said my role, Demetrius, in our adaptation or version: "I'm tired. I think I'll get some rest."
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Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 7:26 PM UTC
Waiting
You are the light that yonder window breaks. Like Yorick I knew you well. You are the Demetrius to my Helena. The Romeo to my Rosaline. My unrequited love.
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 6:35 AM UTC
Shakespearean tragedy.
you cut open my core and threw my insides at the walls with all of your indecencies and heedless galaxies that i'd try to explore, but you kept closed, and gravity; my feet on the ground as they should be, as musicians and stupid poets like me dedicate promises we're positive don't change how you love. and i figure you to be my supernova. this abominable disaster you've caused transformed me into the ink blots splattered and messy and unconstitutional cracks in the ceiling that we think to fix but never quite have enough spackle. and i'm **** at sewing, but you force me to stitch myself back together for days and weeks until i said, "i want you out of my life" even though we both knew i was lying and desperate to feel something because ****** romantics like me want hermia and lysander, not demetrius and helena. and we can't think without the noise of each other and the constant loose ends that fray, and time and time again imissyouimissyouimissyou. and my silence, your silence is the loudest heartbreak i know, and beethoven never had these problems because he could feel and he knew that fire and hearts do not mix, and neither should deceit, but pretty boy you tore out my heart with burning hands and kept it in your back pocket with all the others, and i never said otherwise because at least i was something to you even if our hearts beat to different drums, and explosions, and cracked ribs that you'd like to take because my heart wasn't enough and you needed pieces of me to make yourself feel whole. and i wish i was a little more selfish because i'm stuck with a carcass of my old self and the buzzards don't care of the shell i am now; made up of frozen sno cones, and your eyes.
0
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC
one for two
you cut open my core and threw my insides at the walls with all of your indecencies and heedless galaxies that i'd try to explore, but you kept closed, and gravity; my feet on the ground as they should be, as musicians and stupid poets like me dedicate promises we're positive don't change how you love. and i figure you to be my supernova. this abominable disaster you've caused transformed me into the ink blots splattered and messy and unconstitutional cracks in the ceiling that we think to fix but never quite have enough spackle. and i'm **** at sewing, but you force me to stitch myself back together for days and weeks until i said, "i want you out of my life" even though we both knew i was lying and desperate to feel something because ****** romantics like me want hermia and lysander, not demetrius and helena. and we can't think without the noise of each other and the constant loose ends that fray, and time and time again imissyouimissyouimissyou. and my silence, your silence is the loudest heartbreak i know, and beethoven never had these problems because he could feel and he knew that fire and hearts do not mix, and neither should deceit, but pretty boy you tore out my heart with burning hands and kept it in your back pocket with all the others, and i never said otherwise because at least i was something to you even if our hearts beat to different drums, and explosions, and cracked ribs that you'd like to take because my heart wasn't enough and you needed pieces of me to make yourself feel whole. and i wish i was a little more selfish because i'm stuck with a carcass of my old self and the buzzards don't care of the shell i am now; made up of frozen sno cones, and your eyes.
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33
Blazing down the midnight streets, driving faster with every beat. The higher the mile, the bigger the smile. At this great speed, they felt at peace. Hoping that it would finally allow them to outrun their life of greif. Lights flicker, fingers numb. It hurts so much. Knives claw through the memories. Faster. "Please!", they cry out. Fingers release, speeds increase. There it was. Clarity. "Amy is right, Chad ***** major *** She drove her pink Hummer to the sorority house. "Yaaaaas, Queeeeeeen!" They yelled. "Chadsworth is gone!" Cheers went round and their souls rebound. But Chad was near, he always was, because Chad was an interdimensional demon. 1063629 was it's /name/ Sorority in flames, ladies Instagraming the pain. 1063629 sees this and claims "/names not found/ feel pain! Emote!" Empty space. 1063629 cries. It is alone again. Soul shattered in the war of JPSL20. Alone in shame of loss. Tears of an interdimensional demon. Like glue. Glue. I love you too. Glue cracked the sky. Crazy glue. Stuck on you. Glue cracked the earth. Hades ruptures beneath. Hellspawn rise up from the shattered surface realm. Glue. The new savior lost, in a battle with the demon 1063629. In 46-70 the Lord of Demetrius defeated the beast once known as; 1063629. Glue was the cure. Earth sealed with glue.
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Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 2:50 AM UTC
Cries of the Lost
O Demetrius, must you pass cracked in pieces of less than half A stutter-step, a flourish of anguish? Is there no other way to get others to give? To get away with a scream a fake laugh? O otherworldly psychic street map of distress if only your loop turned and brought you back from the middle of the street wild-eyed you shriek your backpack split to the yellow-toothed freaks traffic and flashing lights an orchestra of heat O Demetrius, dance the worst dance that humans do: The Outcast unwanted, misconstrued Harbinger of discord unlike the others the streets hold You're a dusted angel with a busted wing
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
Ode to a Homeless Gay Psychic
I thought that I was going to be swept off my feet, having the wind knocked from my lungs, feeling as enamored with you as I did almost ten years ago. I was wearing that magenta color again, trying to be a version of myself from back then. Spring and summer are not my seasons but **** when you reached out I knew I had to try. I wanted to try. I had reached a plateau of almost overcoming my self hatred and I wanted to be more confident, strong, dare I say appealing? I felt as though I was at the edge of a cliff, a dangerous precipice: What if it would be weird? Really, it was more: what if he thinks I’m worse than who I was before? Honestly, it was: what if he thinks I’m fat? Worst comes to worst, I would just leave- vanish mysteriously without even saying goodbye. When I saw you I felt so light, happy- it was as if you were exactly the same. I mean honestly you still looked so good. I kept saying: “It’s like you haven’t changed at all”. And you said: “I have been so worn down”, And that shook me and made me really look at you differently. You are such a humble person. You are so interesting and insightful and talking with you makes me feel like I am meeting you again for the first time. Seeing you again brought up so many feelings, but the strongest ones were that I wish I would have gotten to really know you back then instead of being obsessed with the idea of who you were. Or who you could have been to me. I want to get to know you better, now that we both have grown into who we really are. I’m proud of you. You are proud of me. Amazing what almost ten years can do.
0
May 13, 2025
May 13, 2025 at 6:16 PM UTC
Almost Ten Years (Aka: Demetrius and Helena meet again at a bar in Brooklyn)
I thought that I was going to be swept off my feet, having the wind knocked from my lungs, feeling as enamored with you as I did almost ten years ago. I was wearing that magenta color again, trying to be a version of myself from back then. Spring and summer are not my seasons but **** when you reached out I knew I had to try. I wanted to try. I had reached a plateau of almost overcoming my self hatred and I wanted to be more confident, strong, dare I say appealing? I felt as though I was at the edge of a cliff, a dangerous precipice: What if it would be weird? Really, it was more: what if he thinks I’m worse than who I was before? Honestly, it was: what if he thinks I’m fat? Worst comes to worst, I would just leave- vanish mysteriously without even saying goodbye. When I saw you I felt so light, happy- it was as if you were exactly the same. I mean honestly you still looked so good. I kept saying: “It’s like you haven’t changed at all”. And you said: “I have been so worn down”, And that shook me and made me really look at you differently. You are such a humble person. You are so interesting and insightful and talking with you makes me feel like I am meeting you again for the first time. Seeing you again brought up so many feelings, but the strongest ones were that I wish I would have gotten to really know you back then instead of being obsessed with the idea of who you were. Or who you could have been to me. I want to get to know you better, now that we both have grown into who we really are. I’m proud of you. You are proud of me. Amazing what almost ten years can do.
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