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Deswer Jan 2012
This poem is going to be a lie
He tells himself
Writhing in tantalizing filaments
The bright asphyxiation drawing him closer and closer
To this
An ideal
Of the perfect truth
Told out in unwritten song
Painfully typed words
A clever shower of meteors
Belittling the dangerous craters on the surface
The danger of tripping and dying
Not withstanding what we know to be
A falicy
My multilingual interpretation of her feelings
Old testimonies heard in the court
Of the already guilty
This poem is a complete distortion of facts
My trivial response to empowered individuals
Standing on my Adam's Apple
And beating on my lungs like drums
Rhythm meaning honor
And the attention of the onlookers meaning
The inviting glow
Of the fireplace.
She sat down next to
That night
That town
That unfamiliar castigating of a child not belonging to
You
Or her
Or the abyss
"Unbelonging"
"Inbelonging"
Not.  Yours.

The wordsmith falters
Checking his math
Calculation, equation, kiss on the cheek
For luck for death
For the noose to slip, lovingly
And gently to the ground as the trap door swings open
A great, open toothed smile
Laughing at silence
BARBARIC to interrupt such delicacy
Straining to look into my eyes
She whispers low
I want to find a home...
And i tell her, with my heaviest conviction
"No home is."
Which could mean anything.
This poem is a verisimilitude
A lie about a truth
Which, again...
Could mean anything...
pat Sep 2014
"I am going to punch you in the face" he said
burn
wistling sounds
wiped
wiped again
It's not a falicy
It's reality
you walk, you talk, you die
wonka? He was a sadistic ****
I'd drink his **** if  I had it in me
Everlasting gob stoppers. Clod hoppers
Fizzy lifting drinks to poo stink
swallow blood fest
**** out the rest
Sarpinos torpedos
squeeze my labedo chester chito
flaming hot meat he don't eat
so discreat. Now wipe your water on my leg.
is it really midnight.
YEAHHHHH
goodbye
David Watt Jul 2014
Misguided by my own heart,
I am led astray by ideas and goals I cannot reach.
Out of my nature I cannot achieve anything I desire.
Walking a path deigned for a greater man,
I cannot fill the shoes I covet.

I am less than I pretend to be,
Built up in a falicy of moral ideals and dreams,
like a demon sporting the wings of an Angel,
abhorent and rejected by all I aspire to be.
Why can I not be relinquished from my own chains?

Feeling dishonest in my own skin,
Who I am is not who I should be.
Living as half a man with half a heart,
living with the scars of what was taken,
left with the feelings I cannot comprehend.

If I could but Vacate this body,
And let him wake in my place,
I would feel like my existance has been for a purpose.
Instead of without meaning or direction.
I ask you, what is half a man for?
Bryant Dec 2018
Wait one ******* minute...

Okay, I'm one of those okie doke mother ******* huh?
Waddling and quaking right in to your pitiful rouse

Marksmen can make targets out of anything
Cans, bottles, fools

On the ground
On a fence
Hurled towards oblivion

Pull!

Hope fills the beacon as it crests the ascension
Notions of survival fashioned in a free fall

-Similar Sensibilities-

Gems sought out in dirt clods
Friends amongst fiends
Love's Gemini; Lust
Truthfulness in desire

Falicy gives the sustance of Chinese food
Gorging to the brink of gastric obliteration
Satisfaction meets it's pinnacle

Where does the mountaineer go when peaks become plateaus?
You will come down too
Soon enough you will come down

  - The Simplest Adages-
  
Up is one half of a cycle that controls us all
Every dog has it's day
Every birthday suite; a funeral tuxedo

Remember to smile big
It's the only chance you have to win
Happy victims
Mercilessness's only weakness
Clay pigeons with guts grinning

— The End —