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"lights" poems
the house next door makes me sad. both man and wife rise early and go to work. they arrive home in early evening. they have a young boy and a girl. by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house are out. the next morning both man and wife rise early again and go to work. they return in early evening. By 9 p.m. all the lights are out. the house next door makes me sad. the people are nice people, I like them. but I feel them drowning. and I can't save them. they are surviving. they are not homeless. but the price is terrible. sometimes during the day I will look at the house and the house will look at me and the house will weep, yes, it does, I feel it.
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safe
Before long the summer sun will rise in London Like the half of the Ge meets the other half. Like a magic by the Lamp of Aladdin The love flame hidden in the chest lights up! Like a blooming rose in a glowing beam of light, Like a smiling face speaks a gentle word, Like a beautiful sunrise colour in the first light! The summer in London will pop and sizzle We will see a threshold in our land. The rose for a while is tucked away Off the winter and is given to the sun Winter is not forever spring is on the corner Come back in the sun with the early bird Before Cinderella takes on the primrose path. Keeping an eye on a thriller is in the winter’s field Oozy ozone misty land gets a gingerly seasoning What on earth will it strike, will it dish out? Ah, the sun will pop out like a river breeze. Like a southern song singing on a dream scene. a smooth fairy dance facing the Moon a thrill of exposing Stonehenge once and for all a melodious raindrop in the serene pond a butterfly dance on the rose a turned on tall tale of the blue peacock Like a pure belief in heaven without a pinch of salt!
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Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 10:37 AM UTC
Summer in London
It's 3am I'm on the phone No one's awake and I'm alone It's 3am The radio's on Songs are played on lonely station It's 3am I'm in my bed My eyes are open and sleep has fled It's 3am I'm on the balcony The sky is dark and just quite scary It's 3am Some windows have lights Could they also not sleep tonight It's 3am I'm still awake When will life ever give me a break
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 9:38 PM UTC
three a.m.
The rustle of sheets the pacing of feet and the lights outside flicker in the dark street that is covered in sleet the house is losing heat shiver under blankets to gain warmth is a feat when the big hand meets the little hand, there are seats that are inanimate and cold anxiety ain't sweet anxiety ain't sweet anxiety ain't sweet
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Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
Anxiety
*The constellation of the night sky Dotted with Asterism Calling our attention to the mystical lights Plotting an image on our minds The celestial space is where minds wander* © Amitav (Radiance)
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
Night Sky
I used to be afraid of my ***** thought it looked loose and unusually mushy. I thought my first time having *** would be lights off in an insecure mess. I'd been told "they're all unique" but I'd look at mine, teary eyed and couldn't even speak. It wasn't until I went lights on with a girl and I still thought she was the most beautiful thing in the world that I realized how she felt the same and we only put our own bodies to shame. So I want to write an ode to my beautiful ****** and give her the love she deserves. (p.s. I named her Carolina)
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
Ode to ******
i’ve given up on days that begin in late afternoon, skipped breakfast and lunch, days that fade slowly and end with ****** cut-out holes in eyelids because the second i close them and it all goes black, every moment with you comes back played on fast-forward, the memories moving so quickly that both our faces are blurred and it feels like everything i’ve ever felt for you is overflowing the tub, filling the washroom with suds that take forever to melt i’ve given up on those days. i’ve traded them for ones that begin with sunrises instead of sunsets, days that are spent falling forward instead of trying to chase the past, and i don’t look back and see something broken, or something that was better off left unopened i look back and see our bodies so close together that you can’t tell where yours begins and mine ends, i see my heart that grew twenty-three times its size, i see you and me wrapped up in something that i didn’t know existed outside of blurry 35 mm and overdue and falling-apart library books that sit on the nightstands of middle-aged women who are bored with their lives and i’m just so happy i got to love you at all. but i’ve folded up all the days spent with you and taped them in the messy pages of my journal and now i’m running into the sun, running away from every lie that’s trying to wedge its way in between my ribs, running in the opposite direction of words like "regret" and any feeling that insists that none of it was worth it because all of it was worth it. every moment we were together pumps through my veins, and it will always be there; it will be there when we’ve both graduated, when you move out west, when you kiss your family goodnight, when you sit in your backyard with tears in your eyes because you’ve lived a life you are proud of it will be there when i finally make it to new york city, when i kiss someone who isn’t you, when i find the answers you inspired me to search for, when i sit on my rooftop with tears on my cheeks because i’ve lived a life fuller than i could’ve ever imagined and you and i will live these lives apart, we’ll move on and forget what it felt like to wake up beside one another; we’ll find what we’re looking for elsewhere and we’ll understand why this all had to happen the way that it did but what we had will always exist somewhere, in rotting apples and old mail and unplayed mix CDs, in mosaics that line the city streets, in sirens and red and white flashing lights that shine through your window while you are asleep you and i were magic, we always will be.
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
atoms
i’ve given up on days that begin in late afternoon, skipped breakfast and lunch, days that fade slowly and end with ****** cut-out holes in eyelids because the second i close them and it all goes black, every moment with you comes back played on fast-forward, the memories moving so quickly that both our faces are blurred and it feels like everything i’ve ever felt for you is overflowing the tub, filling the washroom with suds that take forever to melt i’ve given up on those days. i’ve traded them for ones that begin with sunrises instead of sunsets, days that are spent falling forward instead of trying to chase the past, and i don’t look back and see something broken, or something that was better off left unopened i look back and see our bodies so close together that you can’t tell where yours begins and mine ends, i see my heart that grew twenty-three times its size, i see you and me wrapped up in something that i didn’t know existed outside of blurry 35 mm and overdue and falling-apart library books that sit on the nightstands of middle-aged women who are bored with their lives and i’m just so happy i got to love you at all. but i’ve folded up all the days spent with you and taped them in the messy pages of my journal and now i’m running into the sun, running away from every lie that’s trying to wedge its way in between my ribs, running in the opposite direction of words like "regret" and any feeling that insists that none of it was worth it because all of it was worth it. every moment we were together pumps through my veins, and it will always be there; it will be there when we’ve both graduated, when you move out west, when you kiss your family goodnight, when you sit in your backyard with tears in your eyes because you’ve lived a life you are proud of it will be there when i finally make it to new york city, when i kiss someone who isn’t you, when i find the answers you inspired me to search for, when i sit on my rooftop with tears on my cheeks because i’ve lived a life fuller than i could’ve ever imagined and you and i will live these lives apart, we’ll move on and forget what it felt like to wake up beside one another; we’ll find what we’re looking for elsewhere and we’ll understand why this all had to happen the way that it did but what we had will always exist somewhere, in rotting apples and old mail and unplayed mix CDs, in mosaics that line the city streets, in sirens and red and white flashing lights that shine through your window while you are asleep you and i were magic, we always will be.
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In swirling clouds of silver lace The disk of Luna lies concealed Across the Autumn skies they race Over this shadow realm surreal. On evening shadows now, I gaze A gentle wind swirls through the trees From depths of sleep, I watch half-dazed Thin branches stirring in the breeze. Lights flickering neath mystic skies Through gaps in trees, they shine within Entranced, my mind, I watch surprised This spectral beauty in the wind. In these dark shadows, spirits drift Translucent ghosts and dryads old From this meadow, I sense their gift Strange stories from the wood untold. Oh let me join thy sylvan fest Pale spirits of this Solstice night Before the Moon sets in the west We'll revel neath her misty light.
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
Spirits of the Night
After the DJ dimmed down the lights One look at you I can tell it's gonna be a long night I don't know if you can take it It's too big, I might break it Little waist tight dress Your body shakin Eyes Looking at me like your for the takin The way our bodies groove make our bodies move like love is for the makin Dancing like we naked dancin close like its sacred Reading your body language Screaming my name like i’m your favorite I make your body do things Making love until your ear rings Screaming out loud, speaking nonsense make you *** first until is past tense
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Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
Wild Grooving
summer nights fairy lights women rights skinny tights we ended up with lovers' fights plain as day you took away a sunshine ray left me with no words to say feelings fade a girl's parade to hold her head high and hide the mess you made
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
summer love
My love is vast. My love is strong. My love is driven by the thought of you noticing me one day. Although I am told that some love never blooms like flowers struggling during the bitter colds. I have nothing to offer you. All I have are my bones. They hold me up on days I feel like a bird with broken wings, but I will always love you with the lights on. I will care for your wounds until you're able to fly again. Until you can reach the moon. So play your guitar and sing your songs. I will admire you from afar as you carry on. Don't worry about me. I'm not trying to come off as a creep but I love your eyes, and how they look like dark coffee. I love the way you speak. Each word a melody. Every sentence a song. I'm caught on your hook. I could listen all day long. I'm lost in your music while you're lost in this madness. So don't worry my dear, the flowers will someday bloom. I shall save these words for you. I'll read them out to you, but only once during the blue moon. You're a sweetheart and a really brave bird. So walk with me to the edge of the earth and I will share you all my secrets, and you will share me yours. We'll tie them both to balloons and let them go. Lay with me down on this pearly dew-drop grass. We'll watch the clouds travel to and fro, just stay with me in this perfect spot. You don't have to go.
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Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
You're A Sweetheart and A Really Brave Bird
The Sun shines, the fog blinds, together they make, a rainbow in the sky. The Moon stares, into a lake, and wonders why, he's a big mistake. Why can't he be the Sun, and light up the day. Why can't he be the one, to make the bad go away. Why can't he be the light, that brightens everyones day. Instead he sits in the night, wishing the Sun would go away. The Moon glows, the stars show, a pattern of love, that lights the Earth below. To himself, the Sun confides, that he wishes, he controlled the tides. Why can't he be the Moon, and turn darkness into light. Why can't he be the one, to light up the great night. Why can't he have the grace, of being with the stars. Instead he sits up in space, wishing he could take his place. But what they both don't know is, they need each other. What they both don't know is, that they are brothers. We live in jealousy, envying each other. Please, just be thankful, and happy for others. The Sun needs the Moon, to keep the night lit bright. The Moon needs the Sun, to produce his shining light. The Sun needs the Moon, and the Moon needs the Sun. If they work together, they can be one. If they work together, they can be one. if they work together, they will be one. If we work together, we could be one. If we work together, we will be one.
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Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 2:51 PM UTC
The Moon and the Sun
Your lips tasted like the stars i never got to see because of the cities bright lights. And once our lips connected, Meteors fell down to earth, And the ground beneath us started crumbling. For it was the end of the beginning, And I couldn't have been more un-afraid.
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Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
Lips like the stars
For my cousin, Chris Goldrick Lacing my skates after walking two miles in girl-strictured delight Mom's stories of Sonja Henie-- No, not ever Lacing my skates with  snow-ball pompoms felt skirt and nylon tights Cute little hat with matching scarf My thighs and fingers already freezing icy burn from miles on foot to get there the lake where-- I must get out I must get OUT! Knowing what to expect from my body the quick-twitch of muscle Could always sense specific-- gravity of water     at 22 degrees Desiring to feel the motion between ice and steel Read speed's vibrations through my body The brain registers relation to weather's effect Tell of velocity possibility of fall Feel the slash of the blades beneath me Throw my weight sideways, sudden to hear that furious hiss An object in motion tending, dire to stay in motion Threatening to stay there always in its heights-- of speed away-- from the crowds of skaters swirling distant in the lights Seeking instead the farthest reaches of Porter Lake speed and speed and more to overcome inertia of what it is to become undone at the outer edges, of humanity A force centrifugal unto myself Avoiding Pregnant and slow with years and babes.... The best must be broken and tamed of what it takes to stay free catching the edges with every stride catching my toe in the quick 180 spray of frost to the sudden still Listen to the frigid chill and the heave of my breath tumbling into evidence Gliding Once Forever-- on, into darkness of woods on frozen water The wildness of it all So infatuated with flight so full of grace I forgot Sonja The moon rose from her seat in the treetops and applauded
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
Night Skating at Porter Lake
For my cousin, Chris Goldrick Lacing my skates after walking two miles in girl-strictured delight Mom's stories of Sonja Henie-- No, not ever Lacing my skates with  snow-ball pompoms felt skirt and nylon tights Cute little hat with matching scarf My thighs and fingers already freezing icy burn from miles on foot to get there the lake where-- I must get out I must get OUT! Knowing what to expect from my body the quick-twitch of muscle Could always sense specific-- gravity of water     at 22 degrees Desiring to feel the motion between ice and steel Read speed's vibrations through my body The brain registers relation to weather's effect Tell of velocity possibility of fall Feel the slash of the blades beneath me Throw my weight sideways, sudden to hear that furious hiss An object in motion tending, dire to stay in motion Threatening to stay there always in its heights-- of speed away-- from the crowds of skaters swirling distant in the lights Seeking instead the farthest reaches of Porter Lake speed and speed and more to overcome inertia of what it is to become undone at the outer edges, of humanity A force centrifugal unto myself Avoiding Pregnant and slow with years and babes.... The best must be broken and tamed of what it takes to stay free catching the edges with every stride catching my toe in the quick 180 spray of frost to the sudden still Listen to the frigid chill and the heave of my breath tumbling into evidence Gliding Once Forever-- on, into darkness of woods on frozen water The wildness of it all So infatuated with flight so full of grace I forgot Sonja The moon rose from her seat in the treetops and applauded
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In a world without technology, can you imagine how it would be? To not have any lights. We'll probably stay home at night. In a world without technology, we'll lose forms of connectivity. We'll not have wifi or 3G, distance will be as it should be. However, without technology, We won't have people far away, because we can only walk on foot. Most will live at home for good. Without technology, perhaps there'll be more sincerity, where more people would be seen, not looking at their phone screens. Instead they'll stop and listen, giving undivided attention, to the people by their side. Perhaps without technology, we would have to do things manually. Life may be tough physically. But with technology, is our life really that easy? Is the world really as it should be? Are people living in harmony? Or is there more strife? More people losing their lives? Or is there more pain, more people dying in vain? What about pollution? Isn't it part of our contribution? All the fuels and carbon, it'll soon bring us to extinction. Our earth today is now diseased, life on earth is not at peace. We can deny all this, And this is the utter irony, while it gives us mass connection, It reduces engagement, attention and perhaps even compassion. "Across the globe, millions reported dying", ends up being desensitizing. Technology's connectivity, leaves us more detached than we should be.
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
Technology
You have the most amazing smile I've ever seen I cannot believe I missed it for so long Your smile gives the stars their glimmer Your smile makes people stop in their tracks Your smile lights my world and melts my heart Your smile gets me through every day now When I close my eyes, I can see that amazing, beautiful and sometimes evil smile! I love you baby 48
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
Your Smile
i don't watch home movies hate them reason being because when i was young i was looking for a movie my mother had recorded for me and accidentally put one in the vcr that i'm not sure i was supposed to see i know the obvious response *"uh oh, **** sorry to disappoint they were only marked with dates   1991 on live television montel williams asks my father *"how can you just throw your child away like a piece of trash?"*    1994 i spend so much time in the emergency room that my parents stop penciling in growth marks on the frame of my bedroom door i always thought it was because they believed i would never grow out of this sickness sometimes i believe the reason that they never bought me a dream catcher was because they never thought i'd live long enough to see them come true    1996 i am eliminated from a spelling bee because i didn't know the 'dad' is silent in 'family'    2013 before i got into poetry i used to do standup none of my jokes were funny one of the other comics tells me my skits are dry sometimes sad he says *"why don't you joke about something like your family?"* so i say *"i never wore any sunblock because i didn't want anything to keep me from my father"* i say *"what do you call christmas without lights or heat?"* before he has a chance to answer i say *"1997. better yet why don't you make like a dad and leave"*    2014 every time we drive past the hospital my mother reminds me how much it cost to save my life like she'd rather have her money back she doesn't have to say that sometimes she wishes it was me who had died instead of my brother i can hear it in the way she says "love you" sometimes i imagine that if i were to die that she would pick out a casket for a child because she never loved the person i became yesterday i told my father how close i'd been to suicide lately and he said *"that's my boy, livin on the edge.."* and i can't remember if i laughed or cried
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Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
there are only dates
i don't watch home movies hate them reason being because when i was young i was looking for a movie my mother had recorded for me and accidentally put one in the vcr that i'm not sure i was supposed to see i know the obvious response *"uh oh, **** sorry to disappoint they were only marked with dates   1991 on live television montel williams asks my father *"how can you just throw your child away like a piece of trash?"*    1994 i spend so much time in the emergency room that my parents stop penciling in growth marks on the frame of my bedroom door i always thought it was because they believed i would never grow out of this sickness sometimes i believe the reason that they never bought me a dream catcher was because they never thought i'd live long enough to see them come true    1996 i am eliminated from a spelling bee because i didn't know the 'dad' is silent in 'family'    2013 before i got into poetry i used to do standup none of my jokes were funny one of the other comics tells me my skits are dry sometimes sad he says *"why don't you joke about something like your family?"* so i say *"i never wore any sunblock because i didn't want anything to keep me from my father"* i say *"what do you call christmas without lights or heat?"* before he has a chance to answer i say *"1997. better yet why don't you make like a dad and leave"*    2014 every time we drive past the hospital my mother reminds me how much it cost to save my life like she'd rather have her money back she doesn't have to say that sometimes she wishes it was me who had died instead of my brother i can hear it in the way she says "love you" sometimes i imagine that if i were to die that she would pick out a casket for a child because she never loved the person i became yesterday i told my father how close i'd been to suicide lately and he said *"that's my boy, livin on the edge.."* and i can't remember if i laughed or cried
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Leaves, sticks, and seeds make up this six foot stalk. Oh, how she blooms before the flashing lights! Leaving men and women with a stunned gawk. Oh, you cause the seeds of your kind at night, to dream of heights they won't reach; how sadly try the delusional. But in all kin, is imprinted least a scar on their psyches. Sacrificial offer in porcelain is ritually performed by some daily. If not for fame, glory, or money, then to mirror fashion people's ideal beauty. A cyclic mental disease that won't end. Shhh.. Here she comes! The first, but not the least. An appetizer for the famine feast!
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
Sonnet to The Stalk and Seeds
for leather accrues The miracle of the streets The scents & smogs & pollens of existence Shiny blackness so totally naked she was Totally un-hung-up We looked around lights now on Top see our fellow travellers ~~~ I am troubled Immeasurably By your eyes I am struck By the feather of your soft Reply The sound of glass Speaks quick Disdain And conceals What your eyes fight To explain ~~~ She looked so sad in sleep Like a friendly hand just out of reach A candle stranded on a beach While the sun sinks low an H-bomb in reverse ~~~ Everything human is leaving her face Soon she will disappear into the calm vegetable morass Stay! My Wild Love! ~~~ I get my best ideas when the telephone rings & rings. It’s no fun To feel like a fool-when your baby’s gone. A new ax to my head: Possession. I create my own sword of Damascus. I’ve done nothing w/time. A little tot prancing the boards playing w/Revolution. When out there the World awaits & abounds w/heavy gangs of murderers & real madmen. Hanging from windows as if to say: I’m bold- do you love me? Just for tonight. A One Night Stand. A dog howls & whines at the glass sliding door (why can’t I be in there?) A cat yowls. A car engine revs & races against the grain- dry rasping carbon protest. I put the book down- & begin my own book. Love for the fat girl. When will SHE get here? ~~~ In the gloom In the shady living room where we lived & died & laughed & cried & the pride of our relationship took hold that summer What a trip To hold your hand & tell the cops you’re not 16 no runaway The wino left a little in the old blue desert bottle Cattle skulls the cliche of rats who skim the trees in search of fat Hip children invade the grounds & sleep in the wet grass ’til the dogs rush out I’m going South!
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40.3k
The American Night
for leather accrues The miracle of the streets The scents & smogs & pollens of existence Shiny blackness so totally naked she was Totally un-hung-up We looked around lights now on Top see our fellow travellers ~~~ I am troubled Immeasurably By your eyes I am struck By the feather of your soft Reply The sound of glass Speaks quick Disdain And conceals What your eyes fight To explain ~~~ She looked so sad in sleep Like a friendly hand just out of reach A candle stranded on a beach While the sun sinks low an H-bomb in reverse ~~~ Everything human is leaving her face Soon she will disappear into the calm vegetable morass Stay! My Wild Love! ~~~ I get my best ideas when the telephone rings & rings. It’s no fun To feel like a fool-when your baby’s gone. A new ax to my head: Possession. I create my own sword of Damascus. I’ve done nothing w/time. A little tot prancing the boards playing w/Revolution. When out there the World awaits & abounds w/heavy gangs of murderers & real madmen. Hanging from windows as if to say: I’m bold- do you love me? Just for tonight. A One Night Stand. A dog howls & whines at the glass sliding door (why can’t I be in there?) A cat yowls. A car engine revs & races against the grain- dry rasping carbon protest. I put the book down- & begin my own book. Love for the fat girl. When will SHE get here? ~~~ In the gloom In the shady living room where we lived & died & laughed & cried & the pride of our relationship took hold that summer What a trip To hold your hand & tell the cops you’re not 16 no runaway The wino left a little in the old blue desert bottle Cattle skulls the cliche of rats who skim the trees in search of fat Hip children invade the grounds & sleep in the wet grass ’til the dogs rush out I’m going South!
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There's no place to suffer, no going away. It's dark in here all of my days. No smiling lights, no happy surprise. Only this disguise, of constant lies. I know they bother them, my sad eyes. They can't bear to see, they want me to hide. Just stay empty inside, so they won't feel down. Still one by one, they'll all turn around. They won't ever stay, or test their extent of pain. They only obey their impulse to stray far away. They'll desert me to ache in this dark hole they can’t take, where I get no relief not even in sleep. So I guess save yourself I’ll taint that light you keep. I'll burden your soul, til you can't take anymore. Then I'll drain you dry before I kiss you goodbye. And you'll never know when it's all done, I'll still be empty but you'll be gone.
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Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 6:36 AM UTC
Empty
Burning fuel but not to leave, boys circled town, came back to the station where they began. Gas exhaust drifted like spirits above asphalt, dissolving in the night. Girls stayed in the lot, waiting for men old enough to buy liquor, their names claiming the land- long after other names lay buried in the ground. They kept to the faces, legs folded on hoods, lip gloss catching the station lights, bracelets chiming, hair flips rehearsed, laughing at trucks circling back. They wanted to be chosen, and I tried to want that too- tried to be a girl among girls, waiting for the moment some hand would tug me out of the circle. But my eyes kept straying- across the street, to the rise that was not just dirt but a chest under earth, ribs shifting, a hum curling into my throat. Something skeletal in its patience, as if Baykok himself were sharpening arrows in the dark, waiting for breath to break. Built long before us by Ojibwe, still honored as sacred ground. The others smoked, struck sparks, sequins spilling from careless wrists, never thinking how easily flame might travel down, through us, into what we couldn’t see. I could hear bones shifting, a buried drumbeat, the land’s own warning. Every glance of the mound pulled me back into silence. It told me what the others didn’t want to know- that all this circling, waiting, was only the lid of a grave.
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Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 12:02 AM UTC
Tumulus
( i ) I lucked out on table 4 last night window seat baseboard heat with intimate passages from Ginsberg in his purest and most evident form Cover-all Carl was draped in his usual garb (turning pages of yesterday's news) animating, culturing, bantering on the fate of the Greek barber (in an accent of which I'm not so sure) His cronies looked on (with a twisted conviction) countering with their own tales of ingovernance and woe *did you know that Panasonic lost 5 billion last quarter?* The evening moved in time lapse... with painted winds, streaming lights and a host of high school girls running cold Maleah passed on her late shift (checking the pile and trough), patronized the boys and called it a night ( ii ) The bald man is back at it again bickering at the till (something about a cold free coffee or 99 cents or the coloured guy behind him who got it hot) a kind Filipino is trying to get it done (at 8 bucks per) losing her cool and shedding a quiet tear Wonder what the Purewals or Haitians or Cossacks would have to say about this grim public reminder, wonder what this sad f*ck will do tonight... without his bus pass or sling sack or broken Turkish stems
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Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC
Fate of the Greek Barber
My beloved, tonight it is more than perfect, the zephyr winds sing so sweetly your name and the crystal stars shine like your earrings. As the White Mountains glint gracefully, and the wind speaks over our fingers, upon our balcony, let’s dance, my beloved. Now over the thousand streams and star crystals in the air, You can see our prayers fill up the milky rivers in the sky. Below the lights of Christmas, before the blue rivers of stars, let’s dance like the shadows and the circles of the moonlight. Now dreams rise over like the wind and shine so easily But time falls quickly, and worries fall away so slowly. So let the rage of your fears dance around and under your legs. For the world is falling asleep, calling for the colors of their dreams. So let the tresses of your hair fall freely, And the wind of your perfume Soak up the flames of your heart. Spinning like the starlight, tasting every feeling, Let the steel blue sky and its stars fall all around you. Dance wildly, my beloved, let's dance like the songbird who sings, let’s dance forever, until we wash into the skyline of our dreams.
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Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
Let's Dance