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josh nunn Dec 2013
Once I knew a place, a place I never truly found significant.
A vast stretch of abandonment and history - long forgotten and left to be consumed by Time himself.
Once I knew a place, a place I never truly understood.
Decorated by Mother Nature with an asortment of trees and shrubs and an abundance of flowers it's only scar which betrayed it to the present was a solitary man-made structure, tattoed with the bold letters of "FALCON SECURITY" - surely an untold testimony to this place's past life.
Once I knew a place, a place I never truly acknowledged.
Ocassionally it would become the temporary haven of hobbos and hermits alike. Living in mutual homelessness they sort comfort under the trees, in the confines of the hideous building or simply amongst the long, billowing grass of the place. They would build thingie-ma-jigs, what-ja-ma-call-its and thing-a-ma-bobs and sell them to the curt passerbys of their place.
Once I knew a place, a place I never truly appreciated.
Surrounded by infastructure, and industry it stood out like a rose amongst the thorns and brought beauty and clarity back into the otherwise monotonous, morbid environment. It stood defiant and strong against the hungry, salivating greed of humanity - yet someday it was bound to succumb to our over-powering ambition for development.
Once I knew a place, a place that no longer exists.
In the blink of an eye that place was destroyed - uprooted and upheaveled.
Every tree, every shrub, every flower ripped out and now gone. No longer a haven but a grave yard where the dead lay scattered like fallen soldiers across the battlefield. Victims against the War of Industrialisation they fell prey to mans' heinous desires.
"Collateral damage" for a "brighter" future they say.
I say, who needs another vehicle retail outlet.
Once I knew a place, and I will never know that place again.
Ever given an apology
when embarrassment
was your true feeling?

Is there space between them?
Or is one the wrapping paper?
Silverskin on coffeebean.
Parchment.
Ornate half mask on a dancer in all black
Between Pointed nose and chandileier
Same infastructure as churches
Decorated to make others look to god.
Up, with gargoyales and bells

If embarrassment is the root of an apology.
Does it ring?

What time of day?

Embassy of embarrassment is your apology.
It is no secret, it is kevlar.
Harder to break.

If you are never embarrassed.
You cannot be sorry.

pride and abandon
As honest as they are to a man
Who loves to love
Strike offensive on ears set
To red at your past.
Own the honesty like a magic shield.
You will not have the kevlar of apology
If you do not have the embarrassment.

You'll need to fake it.
This takes delicate work.
Convincing the world you are not selfish
When born in america
Is not easy.

Loving your own failure seems proof enough
To learn from mistakes
But intellect.
Is not the opposite of selfishness.
In abundance you carry both as a burden.

People see you as a man, honest.
People see you as a man, who was not honest.
People see you as a man, selfish.
People see you as a man, who would rather be wrong and manic than human.

And people see through sometimes the armor
Of your *******
And magic armor of your smile

Because you talk too much

When all you want is too be heard,
Your biggest weakness is when someone listens.

You are so powerfull when no one hears you.
And you are so seen when you never open your mouth.

But the second you do.
You are ugly.

Underneath the ornate white mask and pointed nose
Without the smooth pleasentries of a nirror for a face.
You are seen a bulbous boiled blemmish.
A red infected wound for an ear.

It hurts to hear their testimony
Wittnessing you when you are without protection.

This is not embarrassment?
You are not embarrassed to be seen an ugly thing?

And no.
It just hurts.
And the pain callouses, making it more ugly.
Until we got to where we are.

Indestructible in all this broken.
Untouchable from all this infection.
Unlovable from all this attention.

A greiving suit of armor
Lane May 2013
Viking's got it virtual, spinning and he's cynical
masking masquerade of every beaten broken lateral.
open-bottled bears look like little tiny hairs due to massive
sorts of stacking and a corp worth dollar shares.
Now i'm sitting in a skull or two, a brain that can't pick what to do
An empty, and gated, abandoned hop skotch for dancin' or truth.
signs of life negative, I don't think we can hold the shiv
but i will pay a nickel if you ask me where the mattress is.

Stop
And don't think you left 4 eyes blocked fully.
i'm lookin for the glasses that won't make me look silly.
got a hidden sort of stash, the kind of cash is always relevant.
got industries in disaster with a passion for the magnificent.
now every ****** actor has some kind of immune innocense.
now what the **** has happened to utilizing more than common sense?
I guess we just forgot what time armageddon really is
so allow me to introduce the second hand to you ******* kids.

Please return your seats to an upright release.
(Down-trodden echoes from moon-base police.)
Don't take a number unless you can be seen.
(mathematic addict he took a train for free.)


Ohhh--- my-good-god-*******,
**** it's a nice way to live outside.
free patties made fresh from the earth, 8 to 5.
but he's too **** busy not thinkin' survive.
we can rebuild him.
Undercut the normal cost of generations you are stuck with,
throw it all in paper bags and call it a sickness.
teacher made me sit outside away from all the other kids,
attentiveness is measured by an inconsistent dosage list.
Awareness is a trait
and being blind is a disorder
sight beyond sight is something to be ignored or,
better yet we need a ******* sight beyond the seen sight,
or maybe just a cigarette to keep my mattress fire bright.

Go
Green lights spit on the pavement- pea soup food fight kids entertainment.
rock show, dog fight, all just the same ****.
money riding visual stimulation and a shaking rib.
ha- ha- ha
hear me chuckle like a charlie got his X-ray goggles put on little bit sideways.
crack the better pavement so no one has good roadways.
now our infastructure needs improvements going both ways.


Please return your seats to an upright release.
(Down-trodden echoes from moon-base police.)
Don't take a number unless you can be seen.
(mathematic addict he took a train for free.)
Amber Rose Jan 2014
Dust specks-settle,
cosying up to the ribbon bound notebooks
bearing your initials.
Burying this artefact,
flawed, fractured there will be no map
to guide you back to this mirth, no breadcrumbs to drop on the earth.
It will be no more than a prologue, a seam unwoven to grab momentary attention
until I sweep all away with steel grip on an exuding artery.
Is Hubris not a deadly sin?
As it lays in tatters at my feet.,
Foolish, foolhardy to have believed that all was a world of Thornfield or Pemberley
more apt is naeive.
The disparate views,that were sent by you undermined by certainty,unhinged the very bolts and nuts that held my infastructure.
Transfixed. Transfigured. Transformed into this 'new'.
Alas the day, arrives anyway the lark sings a merry tune and it thunderstorms, drops leaves life leaves the dew.
To be candid, I pocess within me one last spark it splutters and at times can ignite, for teaching me an invaluble truth.
Unrequited love, This partisan
bear with caution- leaves a scar-  a victim.

— The End —