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Kyle Kulseth Jul 2014
Raise our bottles to the purple night
We'll bend these floorboards
          weighed down with our voices.
Shout the doors wide open
fling the windows up
                              erupt into the
streets we know
          then fade and dissipate--
embers, sparks and cinders,
each and every one of us.
A fireworks display--
a winter's day in negative.

          Let's cross these longneck bottles,
flashing foaming glass Excaliburs,
and pour our frothing voices
'cross these seething summer streets;
                                boiling over, burning out.

The snows are coming soon enough
to spread out half a year between
our memories and this night.
So let'*******our glass Excaliburs
and join our ragged voices to the night
               while records spin.
Rollie Rathburn Feb 2016
Through the coffee steam your eyes were so clear they almost broke me in half.
I took a long selfish look as I told the side of your head about my mother.
You holding your gaze on my windshield
watching the wet lights blur one mile at a time.
Through the curls of your hair I heard you whisper that you didn’t want to leave.
Didn’t want to add your shoe size
to the prints leading away from the kid who’d see the inside of a coffin
long before he ever saw his family again.

I pulled over to force your hand through my sternum, pierced
each finger with a ragged heart tendril
built in the image of winter trees seeded far from the water line.
In this way, information is filtered.
Even with a cup tied to another cup by taut string,
you still don’t get a clear sound.

I shook my head, thinking of reasons to say your name. A taste like dusty paperbacks
flecked in cane sugar.
You got the boring name because your parents birthed you full of splendor,
knew you would never need the extra flourish of a conversation starting nametag.
The kind of person who deserves someone that will die of malnourishment if your plane ever goes down.

You’ve gotten soft old man,
You are no conqueror.
Will never drown out the roar in her 5 a.m.  mind,
can do nothing to comfort the black eyes
and longneck bottles left wandering her past,
with your piecemeal shards of charm and wit.

Part of your winter still clings to my dashboard and frosts my knuckles
each time my eyes close driving home, dreaming about painting red flags green.
Even after I watched the last drag curl out of your lungs,
you never tasted like smoke,
so I filled my lacerations with your nicotine
to hide inside your numbness,
while our bare skin rolled across sheets
looking for new cold
knowing this is not true sacrifice,
but perhaps my final squander.
Helen Nov 2013
Big Mistake* can even barely describe how I let you goad me into coming back to your hovel and how you had to clear a path to your bedroom door all the while giving me such a goofy grin. Unfortunately (for me) your flat mate was passed out naked on the sofa with an empty long neck between their legs, snoring a sonata that would have made Frank Sinatra proud, I don't know how to describe the incredible feelings of vile that I experienced. Where do I begin?

I was so pleased to see the mattress on the floor in the corner of your bedroom that I just literally wet myself (don't mistake that for desire) and as you gently lowered me to the floor (honestly, who lives without bed frames) and I felt something crawl across my foot I fervently wished that we were higher. The drugs I took in the club are starting to wear off and I'm even more exacting sober (I wish I hadn't tucked into my handbag an extra pair of ******* and packed some antibacterial wash to take away what would be left over)

"Wait" I cried as your arms seemed to grow 3 extra hands and you tried so hard to get me even more naked than the day I was born. "Protection? Do you have it" and as you looked at me like I was an alien and an extra head I had just spawned, you went out the door on a prophylactic journey that I was sure (looking at your house mate) would last almost till the dawn.

I took the time to glance though your extensive collection of ******* that you didn't seem to feel that you needed to hide and took a chance of learning a thing or two, that you may like, and stacked them in a neat pile to the side. The sheets that floated on your love bed were just a little to crusty for my taste. I don't really want to lay on top of every other lover that you've had in the last year and quickly removed them with some haste (the mattress underneath was another matter) by then I'm starting to think that we should move to the couch and invite naked Mr Longneck to the party just so I don't have to lay down on something so crusty that at the slightest touch would probably shatter.

sigh I'm here now I say to myself 'Take a bow, you've certainly outdone yourself by raising the stakes so high that even a snake crawling on their belly couldn't miss' so I try to make the most of it and remove my shirt (leaving the bra... it's an imagination thing) and try to arrange myself seductively on my coat I laid on the mattress and await for the first heated kiss

You loom in the doorway with a smile that promises that the hunt was a success and lope towards me with a gait of a predator that is ready to eat a succulent meal that your not prepared to undress. One hand reaches out to skim the lace of my bra as your eyes scoot toward the organized pile of magazines in the corner and you spy Miss July on top from afar and in an instant in between a muted groan and a world that is rocked and only occupied by you alone, with just a ***** and one peep I'm left gobsmacked and your fast asleep!

Yes, I left a phone number,
No, it wasn't mine.
Please by all means, use it but try not to tie up LifeLine!
Jan 22
Captured in the psych ward 16


On the day of jeff paynter's psych review. Ron got up at 3 in the morning to try and figure out how he was going to do tips, he is always one to let the patient speak but all night he get texts explaining that he had violent outbursts which causes him to change his approach, no if he has anything to say that might help him be cured. Ron us in for that, but there is a lot of inappropriate language which can force the staff to postpone the review. So Ron searched the web especially YouTube and some great psychology websites and even read a bit of his old timer psychology papers and text books just to find some useful information, and Ron really wanted to help Jeff. Like he does for everyone and at 6 Ron had a shower and went to fran and dans and fran asked Ron how are you today and Ron said, I am doing great but I have this stupid psych test on a patient of mine and really this is looking weird, cause last night he had so many outbursts. I had to get up early to find out what the hell is wrong with him and Barry Allan said, well Ron
I think he has a lot of problems fitting into society and you need to make him understand that what he is doing is wrong, now, yeah it is hard for me to judge cause I hardly know him, but really you should try to get him to speak up about jest is really wrong with him and Ron said yeah mate yeah, jeff, yeah I know has something wrong him, but I am having a mighty hard time trying to point out what is wrong with him, like it could be schotzpgrenia or even bipolar or maybe multiple personalities but that is rare, all I can tell you guys that there is something wrong with him and after finishing his coffee and chinwag he went to the hospital and clocked in and as usual, the first thing he did was give out the morning medications to the HDU and then took their blood pressure and went in to talk to Bill to say that another member of staff will have to take you to TAFE today because I have to spend the day with Jeff, and bill said who will it be and Ron said well at the moment it looks like Tessa, but I will let you know when it happens and then Charlie came out to ask the nurses about leave to do a silent movie and jeff said. Why he **** should you get a job on a silent movie. You are so goofy and then Charlie do you know who I am and jeff said, no your not Charlie Chaplin, all you are is a insult to Charlie Chaplin fans and then jeff called him a big phoney and Charlie Chaplin threatened him with a I am going to bash you up, I am going to bash you up and suddenly Charlie and jeff were having a big punch up and Pete also became involved as well, Ron and a few nurses had to get into this fight and break it up and Ron took jeff away telling the nurse to make sure that bill gets to class at 10-30 and then took Jeff into his room and stayed there with him, to try and figure out jest is wrong and jeff said, you fucken doctors with your medical degrees don't know squat what I am dealing with and Ron said, ok I know I am getting paid for this. And to you I might look like I am helping you to pay the bills, but I am interested in what you have to say. And it stays in this room and Jeff then agreed to tell him the whole story of how a Catholic priest molested him as a child and that got him thinking that molesting kids was right. So then he went to shopping malls and chased every kid, making them very scared of me and then when I saw a kid waking with their parents showing their muscly white legs, I would go come here kid and if the kid came I would grab them and say I have you kidnapped you little rugrat, and then Ron asked, when you said I have you kidnapped, were you actually planning to actually kidnap this kid, or was that illness taking and jeff said, what the **** do you mean my illness, I ain't ill, I just take revenge on people who do harm to me Ron, it's called looking after yourself and Ron said yeah, but I am trylng to give a psych review cause there is something wrong with your brain, and with his hands in the air assuring that he just means he understands, you see to take our your anger on a poor innocent child
Is horrible just because it happened to you, now I know you are sick of the patients here like old blimie Charlie. But mate I can monitor you on medication and make you avoid jailtime and jeff said I don't know right, I don't know why I followed the kids around the mall, and I don't know why I grabbed one out in a public place, I just did it cause I did it and that is why I did it and Ron told Jeff, ok if you go to jail you could get bashed you see they bash people who do harm to kids in there, and if you do wrong things jeff, you have to realise that life stinks and it can be unfair but I am here to find out where are you going to go from here, you see if you stay here, we could get you leave to do courses at TAFE or rehabilitation courses so you don't reoffend, but you need to coopperate with me, I don't want to see you in jail for this. I am interested in letting you do a course, and yes we can help you get back on your feet, so how about I give you this paper and pen and you tell me what would you like to do and where you go from here, and tell us your future goals, be realistic though but don't be shy to say movie star, we can help you get through all this, but that will take time and Ron left Jeff in there and when it came to Jeff's psych review, well jeff was really organised, well he said yeah he believes in standing up for himself but doing it to a kid is wrong and he listed a whole lot of things but the main thing that Jeff wanted to do is learn a trade and he wanted an apprenticeship as a plumber, so Ron did some ringing around and found this plumber who is willing to have him, and he was professional and took him on two days a week, picking him up at the HDU and after having that organised Ron gave the nightly medication and then clocked off and went to the Chinese takeaway and sit in the park near the yarra river at 9-00 pm and Barry Allan came over with a longneck of beer and they spoke to each other and Ron said that he really has the knack for helping people find their feet as he told Barry everything about jeff except for his name, and
They were having great conversations as the yarra river continued to flow so peacefully in the back ground


Sent from my iPhone
Jay Jimenez Aug 2012
The smoke suffocates the mosquitoes
buzzing around me
toes in the grass
burning down trees
Hello goodbyes
as the fire crackels
bits of ash dance in the air
I put my longneck up to my lips
and listen to the air sweet sweet bliss
a friend cracks open another swissher
and I think to myself....
that girl over there I think ill kiss her
tonight.
Boris Cho Nov 10
Grief is not something one simply “gets over.” It’s a profound and transformative process that we learn to carry with us, reshaping it into wisdom and strength. Through my own experiences; surviving a traumatic childhood, navigating a toxic divorce, losing a best friend, and enduring health battles; I’ve come to realize that grief is best navigated with the support of others, not in isolation.

There are essential needs we must honor when mourning: acknowledging the reality of loss, embracing the pain, and leaning on others to help carry the weight. Grief is not an experience to be rushed or solved, but rather a process of reconciliation; a deep acceptance that transforms us. Pain doesn’t vanish, but with time and support, we learn to live alongside it. I’ve walked this path, understanding that grief becomes a part of us, woven into the fabric of who we are, reshaping our identity.

I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have a circle of friends and family whose love has carried me through the darkest moments. My older sister and twin brother, in particular, have been my constant companions in this journey. They were there during my childhood, when trauma was a silent presence. They stood by me through my divorce, when I questioned my worth as a husband and father. And they held me up through the grief of losing my best friend and the challenges of facing health issues that left me questioning my own mortality.

In my journey as a 41-year-old single father to my beautiful 9-year-old daughter, I’ve come to understand the deep depths of grief and the importance of embracing vulnerability. Grief is not merely an experience to endure but a courageous path toward healing and authenticity. It has taught me that acknowledging our pain allows us to connect more deeply with ourselves and others, paving the way for genuine mourning.

Through my experiences in grieving past relationships, I’ve learned that vulnerability is a strength rather than a weakness. Recently, during a theater outing, my daughter witnessed my tears while watching Wild Robot. On our walk home, she courageously asked me which parts of the movie had affected me the most. We paused on a bench, sharing our feelings and reflecting on the moments that sparked emotion within us. Together, we grieved for the old goose Longneck, honoring his courage and bravery for a few quiet moments.

This experience not only deepened our bond but also illustrated to her that expressing emotions is a natural and valuable part of life. In those moments, I realized that fostering an environment where feelings can be shared freely helps nurture resilience and empathy in her. By embracing our vulnerabilities, we honor our grief and create space for love, connection, and understanding, reminding ourselves that mourning is an integral part of our shared humanity. In navigating my own grief, I hope to guide her in finding the courage to authentically experience her emotions as she grows, assuring her that it’s okay to feel deeply and openly in a world that often encourages the opposite.

What I’ve learned is that grief, in its purest form, is a communal experience. The presence of those who care for us is essential. It’s in their company that I’ve found solace, in their compassion that I’ve discovered the strength to keep moving forward. The relationships that have endured through these hardships have been my lifeline, helping me process not only the pain of loss but also the profound sense of survival and rebirth that follows.

In my support group, I’ve found a space where vulnerability is met with understanding, where shared experiences foster healing. These connections have reminded me that we are not meant to bear the weight of our grief alone. My siblings’ generosity and my friends’ loyalty have allowed me to reshape my pain into something meaningful. Through them, I’ve found the courage to keep walking this path, not in spite of the losses I’ve faced, but because of the love that surrounds me.

Grief may be inevitable, but it is not insurmountable. With time, with patience, and with the unwavering support of those who care for us, we can reconcile our losses and create a new understanding of who we are. In the end, it’s the love we receive that helps us carry the grief; and in that love, we find the strength to continue.



It’s as if you’ve spent a lifetime in pursuit, tirelessly honing your craft, only to meet the moment you’ve long awaited; and falter. In that instant, the prize you held so tightly slips through your fingers, drifting out of reach, lost forever.

Every step, every sacrifice, has led you here, only for the dream you chased so relentlessly to dissolve before your eyes. The weight of expectation presses down, and the failure burns deep, rending your heart in waves, relentless in its ache.

But at the end, where defeat seemed inevitable, something unexpected awaits. There, beyond the finish line, stand the ones you love most; cheering, smiling, their eyes bright with pride. Their applause whispers a truth louder than your loss: that second place is but a number. In their eyes, you have always been, and will always be, their champion.

— Sincerely, Boris
Lil Gary Dec 2019
Real Fly. By Lil Gary
      She's ice cold longneck kinda Miller.
      She's the real deal kinda sealer.
      She's a every square inch of my body
        kinda feeler.
      She's a squirrels don't get any nuts    
          kinda stealer.

      She's a always looking up kinda kneeler.
      She's a 80's ****** Healing kinda Thriller.
      She's a roll on Mama till you get back
        home kinda wheeler.
      She's got pounds of that love kinda
          dealer.

      She's really dug in my heart kinda tiller.
      She's smiling at me with the
            flyswatter on the grind
            kinda miller.
      She's my **** down for me girl showing
            if pushed she's a Real Fly kinda
            killer...
Freestyle Story Poemsics

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