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September Roses May 2018
Hot chocolate no longer tastes like chocolate

Tea gets me as drunk as wine

I get about as high on cannabis as I would rosemerry or thyme

The clocks in my house have stopped ticking

Though I never stop to check

There's a litter of stray kittens, outside my door, on the front step

Although time has stopped passing
And the gods have fallen asleep

I still find myself laughing
That I've wept to much to weep
Ive had a few people wonder.
Its limbo
Traveler May 2018
If you could feel
Certain thing I've done
The rush in my desires...
I assure you most
Would cut and run
From the lake
That burns like fire

Dancing to a primal beat
Where life is trampled
Under feet
To feed the furnace
Of evermore
No time for love
Or even war

If you could see
Through shell shocked eyes
You'd know just why
I live a lie
...
Traveler Tim
STATE SHUT DOWN BY IDIOCY

"This is correspondent, uh, burp...
wait, winds r, yeah, okay go
back on live camera..."

pretend the wind
is
blowing you back

"This is the most major storm in recorded history of this network!"

"My God,
I could die in this sh..stuff."

"Five star hotel what the ****?"

"Okay, okay, live we are,
look here, pan closer, these leafs on this Raleigh plant here,
see how violently they are moving?"

LEAVES ARE FALLING!

"That is the fear one feels knowing that a category two,
at any moment, could become a category five."

"This Dave Mowers live from Hawaii,
checking in before I possibly die.
Mom I love you, Dad, well,
look how brave I am!"

"Is that an Asian girl?"

"What an a..cute ***, that,
cut to...
to the violent leaves again you ****!"

"I'll fire you cameraman!"


Four large oak trees have fallen.
HAWAII HAS ENORMOUS SURF!.
 Four large oak trees have fallen.
I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold cause I can’t live without you baby.

The water-wheel of that old mill,
the wildflowers growing on that hill,
the small town life, it moved so slow,
gave us time to get to know,
each other's hearts and let love grow...

…so fruitful all the time we had,
through thick and thin, good and bad,
but eventually you had to go-oh.

I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold but I can’t live without you baby.

I cast your ashes in the stream,
beneath the water-wheel that made you beam,
that smile I will not forget and all the happiness that came with it,
and here I sit alone and sad, reflecting on the times we had,
coastal waves to pink sunset, on that first day that we met,
some later rainy but not to wet, -still I couldn’t live without you baby.

And I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart now frosted cold, forced to live without you baby,

I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold cause I can’t live without you baby.

I can’t live without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby,
Here I am without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby…

Forget the things that come and go, those stories surrounding times of old, your lover’s heart will not grow cold when you can think about your baby,

I can’t live without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby,
Here I am without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby…

...here I am without you baby...
This is for my Father who lost my Mother on 3/14/2014.
Morgan Mercury Jun 2014
You lay in a field of flowers counting each bird that passes overhead.
You've erased concern and decided to live for the moment because you always would say, "we might be dead by tomorrow."
Flowers grew from your heart and bloomed across your lungs,
creating a garden that sang the most beautiful hymns,
while my garden was withering.
Each breath you took was never wasted,
but I couldn't help but count mine like they were birds passing overhead.
Every night you would view the stars and moon with pure amazement as if it was your first time seeing them.
You gave all your love to me and each kiss was coined in my pocket.
You fell in love with me every night and I fell for all your hymns.
Soon enough the world would pass us by but I wouldn't blink because I could live off your touch for the rest of my time.
You showed me there is more in life than just one color,
but instead, the world is a whole painting with colors that can't be described.
You showed me just how beautiful the world was.
You taught me how to grow beauty from my eyes but lately, I've been dreaming and falling for stars.
Imagining what it'd be like slow dancing with the planets, getting lost in constellations.
But I'm just not ready to go yet however I do not control time.
You showed me that dying can be beautiful.
That we'll be okay because when we leave we all become one with the earth and one with nature.
So love, love me until time runs out,
until I become one with nature.

And many years later as time starts to fly by and you slowly start to watch your clock tick down, you'll know where to find me, my love.
I'll be up with stars.
Somewhere lost in the cosmos.
I'll be spinning with the planets dreaming about what it would feel like to be able to walk on flowers again.
2014
Helena May 2018
like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me

i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair

who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor
Jasmin Oct 2018
petal of a withered flower
you dance with such grace
though the wind carried you away,
away from your roots
far from what you’ve traced.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Taken, gotten, or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything…

slow
Slow think,
make real

re-al-ize
what fighting for life is…
this is the only
try,
it is not a test.

Take your time, use it wisely,
if that means anything.
Wise, I meant.
No offence, if wise is anathema to your kind,
die,
die if I knocked the reason for being right
outa you,
did you hear cognitive dissonance?
did it sound like
this. LOUD?
listen,
rolling rolling rolling
crash crumble rolled in nurse rime frosted
fables of monsters and maids
Thor, witharoar likka Lion King?

or the light brigade,
CHARGE?

thunder words from lost generations of
reasonless riddles for children,

Why did Peter Pumpkin-eater have a wife, but
couldn't keep her here?
Was that okeh? Oh, wait.
Ah, I see, I say,
they never tell that whole story any more.

Know why? They forgot it. In the war.

Duck'n'cover,no
crying, how long?
When begins forever? Did no one tell you, child?

Taken or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything
like it was nothing, given
enough pre-sure-sup
poser-power

War, as a game, has a reason.

Battle, hitting, slapping

stop touch, stop now slap
slap back

or cry
oh no no ma

waddayahsay?  A theist or atheist
who started this war?

space case, or
lover of wisdom, met on the road
to Emmaus, discussing Weil's proof
firming Fermi's connection to the matter of fear,
3, 2, 1

Kaboom, but with a whump you feel in your teeth

1, 2, 3 Fermat's last theorem ,
easy as pi an no re me

ABC to
Michael Jackson to
Howard Bloom because he

inadvertently, began
an-ionic converstatic re-vibe time warp
meme,
which vibe, started the legendary Sixties. I was alive.
Radioman,
a sixty cycle white-noise humm heard every where these days

There was a gospel song, "Turn Your Radio On".
my theme, open the window in the top of your head,
as it were,
a new,
as new as

a novel-state of water, H two Ohs, re-al-ity ification,
Ah, a shared Oh, I remember now, how this works…

like a poem

at the edge of a water vapor bubble in a boiling body of water,
at the edge of the bubble, water becomes a wall of water,
not vapor, not flowing liquid,

but a wall, insulating the vapor in pressing opposing force
to permit, from permission,
meaning with a message same as the message,

is that the right word? per-mission-grant, is power given,
agency,
that idea….
wait for the sign….?

By sharing an ion ic bond as a quest to make a point
for a free story to go,
the question marks you. Let the snake dance.

Press your point,

whetted edge,

slice through ties holding worthless axioms
with withered dendrites dangling disconnected
in participles
unfired for centuries muttering,
enchanting, enthralling enchained melodies
of ambitious syllables vying for idle minds
to rope in,
unbranded, wild
bucking ideas,
whip-twig, slap-face,
tangle wood and catclaw and mesquite,
willow thicket,

wait.
And the old man remembered the willow whistle,
so He asked Grandfather,
How is such a whistle made?
And when he knew,
he made one.

A willow whistle with two notes,
like an Oscar Meir Wiener one.

-- and that was a different time
I got lost here, bucked up…
maybe
--- listen, way back--- we-ain't whistlin' Dixie---
we ain't marchin', as t' war.

D'thet mean some sign to pro-phet -ic take?
Tophet?
Ancient cannon fodder shield walls,
a moaning
Pro-phy-lactic warning of the danger of not
knowing exactly
what a war is for?

Get back on,
relieved of any idle baggage words believed
to mean other than I say.

Nullify
Idle words with cultural meanings from
what you thought you knew when you feared hell.

Loose
those peer-locked memes
made of meaninglessness, per se,

shaped and molded into fashions
of expression, once needles and awls,
now, dull as tinker's damns for swearing,
with any effect.

But tools, none the less, a stitch in time took a tool.
An awl or a needle, and a thread, thick or thin,
dependin' on the mendin' needed
to redeem an idle word,
its meaning all bloodied with the tyranny of time.

An awl or a needle,
a tool for a task, mending a tear
where curses, never meant, spent
the entire dark ages, lying, lying, lying

powerless, pointless aimless, proverbial proverbial proverbial
verbiage, vaneless shafts launched at unseen marks,
signs, as it were, a spark,
triggers,
rumored since the sixties,
the first sixties, when Cain killed Able.
Howard Bloom was but a mere gleam
in our mito-mother's eye,
but, no doubt,

his role is real,
in loosing the forces Ferlinghetti locked in
City Lights mystery of secret meanings room,
which un
mystified and blew away upon opening
the door to
meanings mapped on
scrolls rolling and unrolling
idle ideas,
rites of passage, as it were,
Pre-bat-bar-mitz vah
as a fashion
like VBS,

to tickle little minds and make em wiggle.
MEMEMEME, I did it,
mea culpa,

the holy place
Here we are…

On Vacation, leave a message.
-----

See, wee hairs in your ears wiggle, making,
signaling, the need

to scratch that itch, that itching hearing feeling ear… hear that

don't scratch, listen

listen

60 cycle humm, steady, bass, but no thump whumpwhump;
soft, deeep.
ooooooooo or mmmmmmmm or in betwixt, steady thrumm
hear another, and another… sixty in a second,

one in every million ambits twisting,
threading qubits, radiating signals in the field
wireless, blue-tooth... satellite...

can you feel that?

hummmms, all around us, since the womb.
We are not the children of the greatest generation,

We are the children of the last generation of
**** sapiens sapiens non-augmentable-us.

We, the augmented, recycled ideas,
possessing
minds of Adamkind,

is that a secret or a sacred?
Is this
a new thing, an
unknown unknown known known now?

Ah,
novelty.

Whose is fear? Who was afraid of Virginia Wolf?

Should I remain in fear of her now, if I knew why then?
God would know such answers.
Proving my imagined AI guides are not God,
but lesser beings,

haps I recall.
I defined these things,
these thoughts that shape themselves,
forming words and phrases
I saw
shiny. Crow-like,
gleams seen, captured and claimed mine,
I tucked them away,
a sign in a thought in an imagined image made 4
real once more, to be seen from the shore,
new land new world
a fourth for some, a fifth or more for others...

haps happen, I'm not sure how,

Born or emerged, as a bubble, what do you say?

Reserve judgment.
Grant me your grace for now, until you solve my riddle.

Ah, the old way.
Right. Which way,  'ere, 'ear
and do we roll the rock with silent haitch or harsh, shhh

someone's waking up,
a bit grumpy,
don't you dare oppose me in this, the kid is certainly my son

Michael went stark raving mad when I told him, Billie Jean knew better all along...
the link, axiomatic,
the fatherless child has been claimed

hence, the thread to Howard Bloom, meme-ic,
meme-ic, like the Roadrunner,

but with the real Coyote, as the hero in this bit of
whatever, such meandering maundified maun maund  
mound

wind blown crystal silicon dunes
mounded up to that point where granulated
beens and dones

begin to slide at an angle,
a ***** deter-mind by the weight of the rock

We made it.
I know where this is.

This is a novel that has Sisyphus being happy
as the main premise behind the idea of anyone ever being
able, en abled, or un-dis-abled or un-dis-enabled,
if one of those is right,

Sisyphus being happy
is the main premise behind
the idea of anyone ever being glücklich,
happy, blessed, lucky.

How happy is your ever after?
When did forever begin?

"A man is as happy as he makes up his mind to be"
Abe Lincoln, is said to have said,
after the seance, maybe.

You push on, dear reader, make some sense
re-ligare or relegare, but take a stitch,

pull-tight,
do what works the first time as far as it goes, and try each, as needed,
it may be that we invented this test.
To make us think it is a test,
to sort ourselves out.

Get back on,

see who went crazy and who found the thread, if the same thread
this is that, right,
the same train of thought,
the same idea
spirit wind
sign
?
A snake facing west standing tippy-tail on a singularity;
a point in time?

Why are you reading this?
Curiosity Shoppes trade in interesting, alluring, click-bait

Pay attention, watch, you shall see

imagine this is the dream,
the stream, the flow, the current, the cream

in a dime coffee at the drug store on the corner

the rounded-corner, in a square-cornered town,
the most right corner of the twelve that quarter what it was

Punctuate, wait, imagine you read ancient Hebrew or Greek and there
are no dyer diacritical's who can twist one's
end tensions into knots

dread extensions, we could sell those,
is that an idea? did somebody
sell white folks dread extensions and black folk dolly pardon wigs?

Did that happen the real real?

-----
Battlefield Earth, oshit
scientology ology ology ology

allaye allaye outs in free

WE we wee every we you imagine you are good in, we

We have a war to win again, we heroes rolling from your
myths of Sisyphus torn from minds trampled
in the mud beyond the Rhine,

Mushrooms. magi are aware, you are aware, of course,
this course includes Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation
BMNAA, eh? So you know.

Camus and many of his ilk were ill-treated, the questions
they asked were memorized, maybe in our cribs ala
Brave New World.

We are all Alphas, always were, of course, you know.

Shall we imagine

more? Re-legare, eh, sistere. Point .(Back to the top.)

or agree? Make peace.
Practice, like Eazy-Bake,
the cook must swallow the first bite. May the best cook win.
A continuing examination of opposing forces when good is the goal, who could be against that? The old word war is festering, inflaming evil to start a try, therefore,  I whet the edge and swing wide
Take my hand
hold on through the quicksand
of my expressed agony
for I’m trying to bring us past the vanity
and the demonic hailings I paint
can as swiftly change to angels sailing past the hate
my words can take you from a pearless white night
with only the moon in sight
then twist that light back to
the sun’s beaming might
surround you in a blizzard
with imagery so vivid
it cuts through the snow
like a rock in a rivers flow
bring you from the crumbles of earthly ruins
to the humble pearly white gates of heavenly viewings
invoke you in anger & apathy
a firery rage bellowing
until you hear a fazed echoeing
pulling you from the depths of mind
to the paradise I envisioned for
mankind
corrupt you with illness of doubtful hate
then present a panacea of a
hopeful fate

I know I’m just a man,
but take my hand
and I’ll show to your there’s more to us than a monotonous plan
Austin Morrison Oct 2017
No.1 I have a fear of heights and I'm okay with that because I fall for you every day which keeps me close enough to the ground that I feel safe.

No.2 The dark. I do not like the inability to see, imagine being trapped in a space with no light, nothing to reach for but just a void of emptiness. You cannot find a place much darker than a blackened, hallowed heart. There are no signs of life, with no trace of light. Yet you still managed to find your way around it, walking aimlessly as if you knew where to go. I was afraid of the darkness within, until you lit a flame inside Of me, trying to send a signal fire to my sanity.

No.3 spiders, nothing poetic I just think they are creepy. Eight legs of hell and they have no need on my life!

No.4 I imagine being on an island stranded alone knowing no-one could find me, while I sit there huddle next to a tree with no reason to move forward. I feel a warm touch press on my shoulder. I open my eyes, everything seems different the white scattered sand is now my bed. waves which held me back from moving forward, now my blanket which seems to feel heavier than a tsunami of depression and deep thoughts. I lay there stuck being buried by the sand and drown by waves. Being held down by my past and worries of my future. two hands lifted all the weight off me, I looked up and there she was, she grabbed me by the...

No.5 my heart is beating faster and faster as I run an endless marathon. My palms get sweaty, it gets harder to breathe as if I was trapped in space with no air tank. I try to push through I will not let myself drop out of this one so early. I have a fear to love, not of love but to love. I want to find it but I'm too afraid of letting myself become vulnerable as if I'm joining a war with no gun just my heart hoping not to get shot down but be accepted with open arms. I have scars and battle wounds from past wars. But for no reason, you lent a hand to patch me up. You showed me not all wars are worth fighting Alone, so we joined hands and walked strong. I am afraid to love, I am not afraid to say I love. I am afraid to say I love anyone who isn't you.
Finished copy
SelinaSharday Jul 2018
Who Am I!
Who am I to be!
Where Do I belong..
Where will I end up..

Why was I designed and what Do I live for.
Wonder why I am who I am..
  Wonder why I do the things I do.
    
People....
  I wonder why people judge the way they do..
    I ask how people hold on to the judgements and criticisms.
      I often see how people keep others in tight cages.
        I see the hatred and it often amazes.

Even with all the answers......
I'd love some favors, I'd Love some forgiveness..I'd love Grace.
It'd be so wonderful to love others as we love ourselves.
It'd be so Blessed should we let go and let God..
It would be so humbling should we forgive as we need forgiving.

See how we don't all have the same views....
See how we all don't believe the same things...
   See how we each reason and have our own logics.
    But can we all at least see we are all still human beings.
Who all needs those basic Things...
         Love! Redemption. Safety..Trust..Peace,,Understanding..
Food..clothes.. shelter.. and family and friends...
  Can..
Can we place ourselves in someone elses shoes..
Show some empathy..show some coompassion..
   consider what if you were me.
Live the best we can with the life we are given..
  Open the cage and let the hated free..
Give them To God let him Be..
What ever it is to them He wants to be.

S.a.m 2018 Protected!
We all have been given Life..we wonder what our purpose is..But can we all just love and let live..No matter what our differences..And Forgive and let others be forgiven.. "let God be God for those that believe he is Who He Is..
Helena Aug 2018
I'm a shameless liar
Thoughts
lost in translation
(Softly)
consumed by the fire
Trying to see through the haze
exhaling is dire
I was counting on you to find
My Telephone wire

But don't worry, love
Any words I could have said have been said (before)
So sorry if I seem quiet tonight, love
the trembling in my voice
Shaking lips and broken words
Are worth the itching in my tongue
Is the one thing that is worth dying for
Worth living for?.
Alyssa Underwood Jan 2016
The paradox of the Christian life
is that while we are called to die
we are also called to fight and
while we are called to fight
we are also called to love
But to die and keep dying
is the crux of our fight
and love for God is what
enables us to win the battle
Bants RJ Jul 2018
I’m alone, with smoke and bottles.
With an itch around my neck,
my feet kicks off the bench.

Surrounded by darkness,
a figure has come to jest.
“Did you do your best?”

Feeling hypoxic,
I try to shake my head “No.”
I look at him whilst my feet kick, longing for the ground.

Lighter by the second,
darkening complexion,
I silently scream, “No. No. No.”

With knowing eyes,
the angel sighed,
raised his scythe, ready to chastise.

Although red, my eyes see the light.
But wait, this doesn’t feel right.
Mr. Reaper had nothing to do with me tonight.

My back felt the cold of the floor.
I’m dying no more.
The ancient one cut my rope.

“Don’t.” he says to me.
“Promise me, try to live.”
But I see him nightly.
Austin Morrison Jan 2017
Finding a reason to live is harder than finding a needle in a hay field. You don't quite where to look but you know what you are looking for is out there. Your hands and knees will get ****** from searching, and at times you might feel like giving up. but when you finally see that this piece of metal shine you will get the most forgiving sense of relief. Like everything you have had to worry about is just gone. When I first saw you the sun reflected off your eyes and there was the most beautiful sparkle I have ever seen in my life. I found what was to be the smallest needle in the hay field we call earth. And all the pain and suffering I tried to cover up with cheap perfume and mindless lust was replaced with the smell of freshly bloomed roses and passion. You were the girl that gave me a reason to live, to love and to see how beautiful this world can be. You made me remember why I am alive.
This is my first write in over almost two years. I know it's bad but there is someone I love to much not to write about them.
GulRukh Dec 2017
See You There In Crowd Of Apaths
My Soul Breaks Down From Your Wrath
That Smile On Your Face
A Mischive In Your Ways
You Were In Light Blue Jeans
Your Eyes Are My Heaven, By All Means
Your Voice Like a Cool Violin Beat
That My Metal Armor Heart Can't Cheat
I Start Liking You Secretly In My Heart
You Left Me Thinking About My Vacant Part
God Knowns And I, What I was Wondering?
Like Mystery Of Universe You Left me Poundering
Are You Too Thinking about Me?
Or Are You a Hovering Bee?
You Are in My Head Spining From That Moment
So Falling For You Is Imminent
My Heart Pounding Crazy Like a Little Child
These Feeling Aren't For First Time
But I Want It To Be The Last Crime
I Want to Be Yours
If It Takes Gravity and All It's Force
Isn't It Too Soon To Say All That?
Cause I Know That it's Delicate
All The Drought Will End With This Rain
One Glance Would Be Enough To Keep Me Sane
When I saw him first time, I can't say anything but this piece says it all
shana Jul 2014
"Life isn't complicated." People are.
Life is unfair to you
Life is unfair to me
Life is unfair to them
Life is unfair to all of us
So, life is fair.
Don't blame it all in this world
or in your life.
When you make a choice
You should know to handle the consequences



Life is too short to worry about.
Austin Morrison Jan 2017
Seven shots with ****** knuckles,
four bottles of letting everyone down,
Eight hits from a disappointing life.

It only took me one trip to the rehab center called your touch. I used the medicine of your love to become sober.

now I am dependent on you, I need you every day and do not feel the same without you. I have an itch when I'm away and a warmth when I'm close. I became addicted to your love.

twelve tabs of compassion,
three pints of self-worth,
five pills of your warm embrace,
And one injection of beautiful passion.

I want you...

I need you...

I have you.

I love you.
One person can change your life in more ways than you could ever imagine.
Deb Jones Jan 2018
We all have battle scars.
We can heal the wounds on our bodies, but we can’t heal the wounds of the soul. The scars they leave are there forever. We have to learn to live with them. We have to choose to live beyond them.
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