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CR Sep 2013
in the hot hot hotbox where the
interlude first dug in its feathered heels
(the *******), now, it being
gone with the wind, the wellsprings
reflexively engage because the wind
is hot and here I'm not unused to you yet
and I sure don't miss you but here
I nearly want to
Jerm Dec 2013
Memorized by a vacant lot. At the edge of an abyss. Darkness is solitude. Solitude for a crowded my mind. There is no break for a mind. Constantly crunching away at what is reality. The concept of nothingness makes the mind clock overtime. Are we creatures of logical limitless. Or finite beings who cant grasp that nothing is infinite. We are here to observe. To learn. To yearn. In search of a purpose. In search of anything that keeps us from thinking we are worthless. We are creators. We are makers. We are breakers. We are fakers. We are individuals. We are imitators. I am you and you are me. One in the same. On an even plane.. on a round earth. We are haters. We are lovers. We are creatures of similarity. We are creatures of contrast. Idiosyncratic nuances that make us a so far apart but so alike. The performer with a mic. The crazy man on a soap box. The angry in jail. The stoners in a hotbox. The gated community members. And the thieves breaking pad locks. The rich and the poor. The nun and the *****. The killer and the doctor. The lover and the boxer. All so far apart yet always united with a common theme. One in the same. He is her and she is him. Cell by cell. Limb by limb. United until every atom that we were connected through is torn away into nothingness. Vacant lots at the edge of an abyss.
brooke Oct 2014
over the summer
I had a brief romance
with a boy named Ty
whose tennis shoes
were six years into
a can of Grizzly
Wintergreen
on the Kansas
plains. I thought
about kissing him
a couple times when
he told me about wanting
to go to college but his
interest only went
as far as my arms
could reach, the
length of my
hair down my back
and the 5 minute drive
up Skyline that I never took
with him because he only wanted
to hotbox in my car to breathe his
past down my throat. And after
that, he told everyone I was too
much of a good girl and



left.
(c) Brooke Otto 2014

Not feeling very creative, lately.
Tyler Casey Mar 2016
Twenty-one years of what exactly was I taught? I believed you two to be super heroes, or so I thought. Turned seventeen realized life's nothing but a thought.
I'm thinking I'm alive, but really I'm not.
I saw past materialism, chose to sin.
Now I hope I can be forgiven, look into the mirror I'm afraid of my reflection.
I'm not who I was.
I'm not where I am.
I don't know who I am.
I can't find where to stand.
     Miss the days when blankets were stronger than Fort Knox, and money had one meaning: to buy train stations, and  the chances we took were cards in a box and we didn't use our cars to hotbox but we matched a lot.
While momma was tryin' to teach me don't monopolize the TV that's just greedy. Noweverydaygoesbyspeedy and I don't have an effort to make myself peace treaties stuck in my self pity, wallowing like a wallaby with abstract gynecology Twitter-less no one follows me I hate my top eight. I've ruined the recipe but I still eat this teaming plate so I'm just left with a bitter taste.
C B Heath Apr 2014
The dog who watched us take off our shoes
on the steps before the laying Buddha,
this is for you. You were at ease,
not guarding, panting from the heat, warming
your belly on Bangkok’s stones.
Our shoes in a bag, passports strapped to us,
photographing the twenty foot high
resemblance of the man who asked not to
be praised - cast in mother-of-pearl the
man who shook off possessions - I
suppose to a dog looking up,
gods and humans are the same, barefoot idols
shuffling through a hotbox corridor
looking up at another barefoot
human with an immobile face,
downy eyes and nearly a tear.

Later you found shade beneath an
archway at the end of a long
line of Buddhas, almost identical,
decreasing in age towards you.
Some ideas are so respected
they need repeating in the same
manner every year, the same sculpture
carved beside the last, an echo,
a silent chant, and you lay there
at the end, the chant becomes your
visible panting. For a moment
you look into my eyes because
you recognised my feet, because
you know you take the place of the
next structure, you know that busy
hands will build upon where you sit,
that where you go, humans follow,
as they do with gods, with shadows.
Kristen Falzon Apr 2013
Hair whips your face
as you cruise away from life,
from *******, from internet & TV.

Thank God the windows roll down automatically
in your hotbox of a car, because
You don't have time to waste thinking
about rolling down windows -
the weather is hot and sunny,

You need to get on the move.

And besides, your music is too loud
to even manage thinking about
well, anything. Blast off.

Sun-scorched leather burns your thighs,
sweat glues you to the seat.
It's not glorious,
it's swamp ***.

But I'll take it.
I'm a tool pondering skyscapes.
Fondling a memory
Left behind
On sunset marquees.
It raced into the horizon like
A toad on the road.
A neon dream waving farewell.

Exploring mindsets:
An act in caressing
Bloodbath tesseracts.
A roundhouse rollercoaster,
Spinning at velocity of perfume
Hitting nasal perforations.

Core memories surface along spine cutlets,
No longer intrinsic
Doubt.
I'm settling for more.
A bathed blue baby is a moment
Too long to endure.

Hindsight is
A parson's lake passage;
A mad monster yet to be tamed;
A grain of salt to a fresh wound made;
Moments of grace from a fake great ape.

Blue morons slide
Into Mormon jovial footsteps.
Derided ice forestry into
King's cloaked ancestry.
Which makes family the
Opposite of attraction.

And yet here I am
Talking to you,
Eyelight through obelisks
In hotbox barricades.
Hiding behind
A past of newspapers.
Headline reads 'ONLY DEVINE'
'TRADE REIGN WARNS JEWELS'
'PRINCE THREATENS ECONOMY
... AND CROWN.'

Wipe the frown,
Draw the sword.
Don't be ignored anymore.
What if the war machine
was a tarnished memory
and the void between
the pillars
Why there is not contentment for the content
but and endless series
of Roman pillars inside celibate convents.
The pillars of the Panthéon are bars in a demented prison
fermented with the stench of a rancid batch
of torrid dreams.

A palace of pain an pleasure,
a hotbox of sin for the devil's leisure.
Leapt to every level of Dante's hell
and up again

No knowledge have I aquired,
but confusion, a quiet
illusion, and I am tired,
oh, so witheringly
tired.

"We are drawn to the concept of escape"
Nietzsche said.
It was the year 2121. There was only four of us who actually remained together. It was me, Hotbox, which is a name I picked up due to my father. He was a boxer who then became a firefighter in his later years. I was half human and half metal. I worked at a place where we customized engines for flying cars before it went out of business. Crisis on oil similar to that of the past decades was still prevalent in future times. One of the engine parts we received from the Colony in Outer Space had a defect and it exploded upon arrival. It left me feeling like I was Johhny from Johnny Got His Gun. I nearly lost my hearing, sight, speech, a chunk of my heart and many of my bones and limbs disintegrated. During the time I was hospitalized, many special doctors took care of me. Many of them supers themselves spoke to me telepathically. I was given a new body armor made of Tantalum, a metal that often replaces platinum and is very efficient for implants and coatings in the medical field. But enough about me. There’s FrostFyre, a girl I met at a superhero convention. I had a super crush on her. She was born in an artificial planet called Brone that no longer exists due to an unexpected shutdown. She was able to absorb the energy from the explosion which allowed her to be stronger than the citizens of her planet. The disaster caused her family to relocate to one of the Colonies in planet Earth. Fyre could change the temperature of the flames that she fired and could potentially freeze-burn her opponents. Her fire was hotter than the center of the sun. We had two best friends who also happen to be fraternal twins, they're names are Sloe and Slic. Sloe had the ability to fly, teleport, and slow time down which consisted of making everything appear to be paralyzed. Slic on the other hand had super speed and would one day travel faster than light. After the Third World War in 2095, several hydrogen bombs were dropped all over the world, almost everything had vanished. There were no more skyscrapers, no more Mount Everest, no more Niagara falls, no more pyramids in what’s left of Egypt, and no more overly saturated Earth full of humans. The human population was at about 11.2 billion at the end of the century according to the United Nations. After the nuclear warfare episodes, the known population dropped to 3 billion. It became the duty of the Heroes of the Colony to take hold of the Earth. With the rise of enemies of the colony, the world was now in the hands of evil.

“It’s time to light up and take flight!”, shouted Fyre. It was easy for her to say. She was born with the ability to produce fire by herself. After my accident I was struggling with feeling like I wasn’t even human anymore.

“How hot is Lava?” Slic said.

We were standing at the rim of the largest human-made volcano to ever exist. Lava was a villain that was threatening to erupt the volcano in where she dwelled in. Sloe was using her powers to slow the process down, but Lava used her powers to speed up the eruption.

“Lava can reach temperatures of 1,600 degrees Fahrenheit to up to 2,000.” Sloe replied.

“No smartypants, I mean is she good looking?” Slic replied.

“We have to go in the lava and attack her from where she is standing,” Fyre said in a very calm voice. She and I knew that my armor material had a melting point up almost 2,500 degrees so we couldn't risk it. The lava's temperature was increasing at an alarming rate as the seconds passed. If any of the lava seeped through the pores of my armor, my body could instantly be vaporized.

“What if you go in instead?” I said.

If Fyre went in to swim in the lava she would be more safe than me. Her body was made from a material found in the distant home-planet she comes from. Lava's body in the other hand was still human-like. She was not susceptible to the lava she produced or lived in but perhaps a nuclear explosion could vaporize her for good. The vaporization would occur so quickly that Lava would simply cease to exist. The nervous system that sends pain signals to the brain would be gone quicker than the speed in which signals reach the brain.

This was a moment of chaos. There was enough happening in what was left of the world. The people that lived under the fear and control of Lava would die due to being exposed to the lava even if several feet away. The magma of the volcano was very vicious at this point and sloe could not do much about it. Fyre was getting ready to detonate as she stood at the center of the rim. She does this by going into a fetal position as she floats in midair.

There was a sudden flash in the sky. A voice said, “Prepare for flight!”

It was the Navigator. He was here to teleport us to May 31st, 2095. It was a Tuesday afternoon and we were at a diner in a floating city. There was a lot of commotion around us and it felt as if  the Flight of the Bumblebee was playing in the background.

“Sorry, wrong date.”

We quickly teleported to the day before, a Monday and I hated Mondays but we were still at the diner and I was having a chocolate milkshake so it wasn't so bad. There were so many people looking at the sky as they cried, helpless and hopeless. The bombs were being dropped. The navigator asked Sloe to slow everything down. In the moment of panic there was peace. We enjoyed milkshakes and talked about how to save the world as we were the only ones talking in real time. Slic ran back home to get his video camera and he started recording as the first bomb reached grounds. A few seconds later everything was white.
Wither, weary eyes
  Come seek me here at high noon
    Blind, in the sunlight.
------------------------------------------
   Silver light sings now
  Shadowing the night so deep;
Called, I answer.
-----------------------------------------
Down where mischief keeps
  Its uncertain ***** laughter
    I build my garden.
-----------------------------------------
     ***** and stick, the thorns
  Growing lovely now, the leaves
Rarer still, the rose.
-----------------------------------------
Icy crystals of frost
  Lacing the window like lattice
    Fading in the sun.
-----------------------------------------
   Whisper, quiet touch;
  Your skin, soft and supple;
My world, beside me.
-----------------------------------------
Wheezing, hacking hurt
  That torments me like the plague
    Springs sweet gift to me.
One day everything was white for a few seconds again, but not because of some bombs or some sort of global phenomenon. This time it was because I woke up and got up from my bed so fast that I started to feel a little dizzy.
“This is odd,” I said.
My brain had some parts that were 3D printed. The inks used to print these implants consisted of real brain fiber and tissue as well as other synthetic brain materials. I guess the cells started to grow along with my old brain and at the time I did not realize whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. I almost forgot what it felt like to be dizzy.
Once I started seeing normal colors again I took a few steps and accidentally stepped on my phone. I probably dropped it when I got home the night before. I looked down and saw that my screen cracked and I picked it up and tried to turn it on but it was dead.
I stumbled out of my room and opened the door as I made my way to the bathroom so I could wash the blood off from my face. I opened the faucet and left the water running. As I watched the reflection of the water in the mirror, it suddenly stopped. I glimpsed down and checked to see if the water was still on and it was. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. My reflection started doing something else in the distance. I didn’t freak out because my body suit was in invisibility mode.
It felt as if someone was looking at me even in my room.
I thought, “There is a mirror in my room too.”
I keep a long vertical mirror in my room that I write on with a dry-erase marker that I use as a to-do list. I had heard about a villain who called himself The Mirror and he was on a list of villains that need to get researched. I did the research. He existed in a world where everything was opposite just how a mirror projects a view that mimics reality. Many people of the Mirror World could try to make eye contact and hypnotize people of the real world and ask them to do anything. When they do this it appears as if their own image talks to them as their own conscious. Often times people of the mirror world stayed away from them. Mirror people can only be seen through mirror reflections, but also can only escape through mirrors if they break in reality. Mirrors in that world function the same way but they do not break.
I was going to meet an older but younger version of me. This guy did not fully undergo the process that enabled him to become immortal and gave him full control of his superpowers. During this time, he was still getting dreams of the future. He was dreaming about his encounter with Hotbox. There was law that stated that all entities within the timelines had to register as individuals to the authorities. This meant that they required a different name. This old, other me named himself Phyro. He blasted rings of fire to his opponents and trapped them in a scorching fire and could also shoot fireballs the size of gumballs that were about 500 times the temperature of the Sun. The fire expanded through the body so quickly and turned his opponents to ashes in a matter of seconds.
In order to go meet with Phyro, I had to get a hold of The Navigator but that was nearly impossible. He was put to sleep and kept in high security prison. It was the same year of the War in 2095, the day the bombs were dropped but in that timeline, people were prepared for the tragic happenings. The Navigator was being used to help the Enemies of the Colony. They used him for his memories and endless banks of stored information. He had unlimited amounts of memory space as one of his tasks was to keep track of everything and everyone.
I planned on meeting with his inventor and creator, the one who invented the time machine. That’s basically what The Navigator was. A time machine. The Navigator had the ability to think and feel just like humans.
On my way out to meet with the The Inventor, I opened my front door and there I was. But in reality that wasn’t me. It was an old friend I made during war named Pseudo. He has the ability to shape shift to anyone they have met. Pseudo was pretending to be me. And that’s how I knew it wasn’t me because no one had travelled trough time in almost 500 years. That’s how long the Navigator has been shutdown.
Suddenly there was an earthquake. Shudder was the one probably causing this. Most cities in this time were floating and therefore, earthquakes were not real. Shudder had the ability to shake things around at an incredible force within a certain radius.
That sudden quake caused all the mirrors in my house to fall and break. Thousands of Mirror people escaped from the broken mirrors. And there I was all alone surrounded by Pseudo, Shudder, and The Mirror along with an army of Mirror people.
allison douglas Jun 2015
he stares off and inhales slow death
green lungs
red eyes
his soul reminds me of the sun
older than time and burning slowly
his halo hangs undecided between his body
and his aura
deep purple,
guess that's why his voice sounds like purple haze
with green lungs
red eyes
here I come, baby.
and he starts walking like there's no star in the sky that could stop him
walking through the clouds,
riding through the sky
he's the chosen one
gold streaks running through his long hair
Samson, your time has come.
you don't know who you're talking to.
I long to know the secrets woven into your dreadlocks
yesterday's broken song
and the beginning of the universe
what your god sounds like
and what it's like to have god running through every vein in your body.
I'm a cute little heartbreaker
with a tar black heart
let me take you over.
back roads, cold night
inhaling poison
blasphemous hotbox in the house of The Lord
clear mind
tainted soul
green lungs
red eyes
you're enticed by the darkness shining behind mine
unintentional seductress
with unholy motives
so I get you to the backseat of my car
inhale the smoke dripping from my lips
the cyanide laced flower you cling to
the light fades from your red eyes
as realization hits
your last thought asking why
seven inch bloodstained blade torn from hearts of the many before
pulled from my belt
I cut the purple haze from your soul with every strand I steal
the gold fades
I can hear your god
see the secrets of the universe woven in your dreadlocks
watching the universe begin
mesmerized
I don't know if it's day or night anymore,
or if it's the end of time
but I've taken you over
oh, samson.
and then he rises, his hands on my throat
he sees me standing over him
gets up and screams
his voice brings pillars down,
the house of god obliterated
in this moment I'm all his
his rampage beginning.
in the midst of his purple haze
green lungs
red eyes.
the revolution is mine.
donia kashkooli Mar 2018
if we would've met at 16 our lives as teenagers would've been worlds different. we'd meet in the parking lot after school and we'd drive for a little, then hotbox in front of the pacific ocean. i'd play you all the stuff that i played on my weekly radio show and i'd ***** to you about how i was done with the world and every single lululemon wearing, frozen mocha drinking girl who thought i was inferior to her because i wasn't conventionally pretty, listened to anti-establishment punk rock of the 1970s and refused to straighten my hair even if my curls wouldn't quit that day.
i didn't know you four years ago. you were the exact opposite of me, and honestly you probably would have avoided me  - you put gel in your hair and you played sports, but you seemed like you might've been angry and sad for no apparent reason too. you were the same as you are now in some ways, you had the 24/7 off-duty model thing, you were smart, you bumped old school tunes, you knew old school sitcoms. i would've 100% been in love with you but i never would have done anything about it. all i wanted was someone that i could tell everything to, but nobody cared. knowing you could have eased the pain of the period of time in my life where i spent all my money on dime bags and twelve dollar packs of cigarettes and stability was the last thing on my mind and all i really wanted to do was dig a grave for myself. you probably would have never talked to me, but we would have been the coolest kids in the parking lot.
and can i tell you like, the cheesiest sounding thing in the world? yeah? okay. i can't wait to run into you on a beach on the north shore of kauai in 50 years. "shawshank redemption" style. i hope we're friends forever.
Nevermind Apr 2017
I'm staying in this Friday night
Don't need the parties to get high
I've got a party all on my own
So **** the fakes and stuck up hoes
I don't wanna hotbox the car
Or run crazy through the yard
I just wanna trip in my room
And dream of the things we could do
Inhaling the good
Exhale the bad
You never understood
It's all I ever had
I'm staying in
Don't hit me up
Call me a flake
I don't give a ****
I love the silence
Where I can make up
A very own world
Just me alone
I'm not going out
I'm staying at home
Just wanna trip
And be alone
I remember visiting my mom in rehab as a child. I didn't understand the extreme pain most of these patients were going through and I especially didn't understand why my mom was here. I only have good memories of that place. Our moms met there and that's how I became best friends with your sister. I remember the smell of your oak wood home in the middle of the woods and the huge fireplace in your mostly glass living room. Whenever i enter a house and smell a fire place it instantly takes me back to your home. I remember little baby blue nipping at my feet as I ran across the huge field you had in your backyard and jumping on to the trampoline while we laughed at the fact that Blue couldn't reach us up there. The old broken down tractor at the edge of the woods that we would pretend to drive all the time. My mom slept on your couch and I would visit for the huge fancy meals your mom would make for us all. At that time you were several years older than me and you knew what was going on. You understood that the probability of you ending up like our parents is at a higher percentage than most. I understood nothing. I don't know what happened between our parents but I didn't see you guys for several years after I entered junior high. Fast forward to my first year in college and there was your sister standing at my front door. Friends of friends is how we found each other. I knew this couldn't have been a coincidence and that's a lot coming from someone who doesn't believe that there is a meaning to life. We catch up and reminisced on old times spent together before we exited our childhood. It's almost as if we had never seperated. Several weeks later an unrelated friend told me how he had caught someone doing heroine in the hyvee bathroom while he was working and had the cops take him away. That same night your sister called me to tell me you were in jail. You stayed in the same rehab facility our mothers had and your sister told me how everything was exactly the same but how strange it was to see it all in the eyes of an adult. I finally met you one last time while I was at work and I noticed how happy you made her and how big the smile on your face was. The kindest eyes I had ever seen in my entire life. Several months later they found you dead from an overdose on heroine at you house in Oregon. I brought your sister flowers expecting her to be devastated but she seemed calm and only wished to be outside with her friends. A week later she broke down in my bathroom for the first time.
I had never before attended a celebration of life but as soon as I showed up I knew you would have loved it. We swam in the river with all of our clothes on to cool off and I let everyone hotbox my car several times just to help cope. I ran away from my mom upon her arrival because I knew I reeked of ****. You would have found that hilarious seeing as though i'm nearly 21 and you know the stuff our mothers did together when they were younger. I met your girlfriend and although she seemed at ease it broke my heart to see such a beautiful small yet strong woman go through what has happened. We all sat around a huge bonfire with glow sticks and fire dancers doing tricks in front of us. I watched your mom and your sister do the most beautiful spiritual dance around the fire. Even though they had no idea what they were doing it nearly brought me to tears. Your family loves you Ryan, Your friends miss you and I am happy that you have been given the chance to move on from this universe and hopefully start over somewhere new.
cg Sep 2019
lonely, hotbox room
             high off my own c o 2
nostalgia potent.
             the walls reek
of self-pity
Travis Green Aug 2022
Clutch and govern my heavenly petal-velvet structure
Travel into my passion-crash-hot galaxy
Stretch the depths of my subliminal self
Gobble up my softness
Tame my tight, flowery innerness
Finesse my wetness
Decimate my gayness

Make my body ache amorously
With your bewitching searing masculinity
Exert pressure on my vessel
Scorch my gorgeousness
Let your hotness crawl into my core
Come inside my backdoor
Let your **** do its job

Smack my big bangin’ *****
****** your mean cream stick deep in my luscious goodies
Part my cheeks, let your delectable egg-shaped bell-end
Shop in my ****** chocolate factory
Feel your throbbing brawnilicious machoness
Making its way further into my inner world

Tease my sweet, warm portal
Make my senses go crazy
Put me in a temperature danger zone
With my backside cocked up
Feeling your ultra **** seduction
I am in a frenzy of delight
So ensorcelled by your **** slaying straightness
How you violate my gayness

Spit in my delightful private hotbox
Push me back on your slickness
Make me feel your merciless hardness
Drive deeper into my passionate psychedelic paradise
Fill me completely with your virility
Make me superheated
So mesmerized by your powerhouse pumping monstrosity

Take me to downtown poundtown
Feel you move magically against my craft
In mystic, cosmic harmony
You rock your glorious hard-boiled rod inside my guts
Make me shift and shiver
Squeeze your prominent toned arms
As your deep cut-throat strokes surge
Through my homosexual haven

Crack me open, such slamming vibrations
Such greatly pulsating sensations
Hot thrashing magic
I am bereft of speech
Feeling your relentless skyrocketing rhythm
Splashy *******, you are the baddest bedazzling flex
You make me breathe deep and hard

Make me erratically shudder
Drag me nearer into your immersing tenderness
Plunge crunkness into my creamy gleaming tunnel
Burglarize my manhood
Send ultrahot shocks to my walls
Let your thuggishness flood through my guts
Alter my thoughts and feelings

Compel me to feel your disastrous ravenous wildfire
Strike me with your crack of thunder
Make me lose apart of myself
In your utter rushing lushness
Cause me to concede to your headiness
Feel your hands on my unfettered and majestic chestnuts

Knead them manfully
Carry me into the grandly extravagant museum of your splendor
Nodding off into a salaciously spacious fantasyland
I feel you move faster and faster
Take me with mega slamming force
Make me burn for your mad world-class masterpiece

All of your unsurpassed delectableness in my vessel
You pluck my rosebud, shove extra lust in my innermost being
I listen to you let out a shout and spurt out
The purest hot man oil on my phenomenally provocative form
B E Cults Nov 2020
bodhisattva,
hotbox a square in the lobby
of every hotel at once.
la di ******* da.
"try to stop me" is written in
the auric field,
Lorca in front of the firing squad.
of course it's **** or be built better
by anybody else afterwards.
bet.
i cash checks from the cancer-verse,
dead to whatever panders
to a standard first.
push me out this ******* window.
please.
i need to touch earth urgently.
I need to simplify all of this
balled fist twist and turn ****
burning around me.
don't listen to me.
i'm howling at the moon in my memory.
i'm not new to the entropy.

you know this though.
you know this.

— The End —