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"paranoids" poems
It matters not what lies behind Or what may lie ahead, When waking dreams and evil things Reside in each man's head. They rattle chains and haunt our brains, They feast upon our fears; Consuming joy and hope and trust, And all that we've held dear. We hear their cries and stoke the fires, Descend with them to Hell; We share their shame, but not in blame, Then fight amongst ourselves; 'Tis rare one sees That which he flees Is but a timeless mirror. From brilliant men, to hapless hearts, To wicked, wretched souls... They are no more, nor less, than we; But fractions of one whole. Though he may lack in this or that While others seem to reign; With better looks, or smarts in books, More power, wealth or fame; We mustn't bend to arrogance, Nor envy, just the same... For he who dims his brothers light Still hath no brighter a flame; Instead he lessens all our sight And squanders his own gains. Have faith in ALL that's here below Was ordered, first, above. And suffers much, the eldest man, Outliving all he's loved; While rich men live, as paranoids, And poor men toil in pain. The simple man, a laughing stock, And genius feels insane. While beauty's forged the darkest hearts, As shallow, they became. And lives of ease have yielded sloth And left good bodies lame. So none can measure, nor divide, The worth of Moon and Sun.... Like bird and beast, As Earth to Sea, Dependent on the One. The seasons change, As well they should, And ne'er can we forget.... We're nigh but little cosmic spokes Whom churn the Infinite. And so these planets and their stars Keep wheeling 'round the sky, The watchmen keeping track of time, Our souls all keeping ties.
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Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
God, Indivisible
It matters not what lies behind Or what may lie ahead, When waking dreams and evil things Reside in each man's head. They rattle chains and haunt our brains, They feast upon our fears; Consuming joy and hope and trust, And all that we've held dear. We hear their cries and stoke the fires, Descend with them to Hell; We share their shame, but not in blame, Then fight amongst ourselves; 'Tis rare one sees That which he flees Is but a timeless mirror. From brilliant men, to hapless hearts, To wicked, wretched souls... They are no more, nor less, than we; But fractions of one whole. Though he may lack in this or that While others seem to reign; With better looks, or smarts in books, More power, wealth or fame; We mustn't bend to arrogance, Nor envy, just the same... For he who dims his brothers light Still hath no brighter a flame; Instead he lessens all our sight And squanders his own gains. Have faith in ALL that's here below Was ordered, first, above. And suffers much, the eldest man, Outliving all he's loved; While rich men live, as paranoids, And poor men toil in pain. The simple man, a laughing stock, And genius feels insane. While beauty's forged the darkest hearts, As shallow, they became. And lives of ease have yielded sloth And left good bodies lame. So none can measure, nor divide, The worth of Moon and Sun.... Like bird and beast, As Earth to Sea, Dependent on the One. The seasons change, As well they should, And ne'er can we forget.... We're nigh but little cosmic spokes Whom churn the Infinite. And so these planets and their stars Keep wheeling 'round the sky, The watchmen keeping track of time, Our souls all keeping ties.
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55
I feel better out of love. Clingy as I am, It's something I never made use of. Love drags us down, Paranoids us, Like a loner in a ghost town. Yes, it makes my legs shake, As if I were standing on low Ground during an Earthquake. Perfection at my finger tips, They always leave, And I just bite my lips. "It is better to have loved and lost, Than never to have loved at all," They say, eyes glossed. That would be true if you were gone, But my mind, lost in its own way, can't move on. To be in love With a figment Is something I cant get rid of. This is why I feel better out of love, Clingy as I am, It's something I never made use of.
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Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC
Out of Love
Jimmy's pad was a rockin' place. Like small mountain ranges, mounds of pinkish-flake covered the mirror. His triple beam balanced baggies twenty-four seven, while his harem of ****** went from door to door, snorting huge lines & ******* massive ***** of the wide-eyed, strung-out paranoids. These vampires always seemed on the run, jonesing, looking out of the windows 'till four am, sick for more of the blow.
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Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Coke House (Shades of Babylon)
[war footing] a parrot sawed in half by peace or quiet ~ [ballerina] dog whistle, nothing’s church-bell: my mother, handcuffed still worships wasp ~ [mothers, acoustic] we are maybe inside an Ohio factory childless and ready for a refresher on orphan etiquette- word is there came a cow from the nothingness that drank nowhere’s father and sleep is death’s babysitter ~ [darker farms] food saved from a house fire – the cult following of nostalgic paranoids – a star, this deer as it prays for moth ~ [annihilatives] the first murdered woman was not killed by her sister. stop me if you’ve not heard ~ ~ also, {name calling} is my newest self-published poetry collection it is available on Lulu book preview on site is book entire free PDF is available. also, free hardy copy available for review.  both upon request. poems, from it, are below: ~ ~ [entries for listen] mirror to window we’re moving away ~ [entries for fixation] the name of this scar is they couldn’t hide the canoe mom says there’s an oven at the bottom of every lake that I was born asleep surrounded by toe touchers is art world-building for the geeks of grief have you crucified starfish ~ [entries for children] remember, it is dark and memory is god painting with the blood of those he would create
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Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 11:30 PM UTC
{name calling. keeps.}