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mori walts Jun 2016
i am that
empty space provided
to people when
sitting, tense
and anxious
cant come to conclusions
this place is
dense
not stopping to wonder
reasons
a wicked past tense
keeps lingering on
despite the present

laying awake last evening
sleepless jittering
attacked by images
of sole responsibility
deep holograms
of reasoning
when groundlessness
distracts  
from getting your needs met        

ab/stra/cted
big/pic/ture
up/close/and
far/too/vi/vid
just/loose/threads
in/stan/ces
con/stant/drea/ming/di/stra/ctions:

"what are you doing?"
"im writing a poem"
"what are you doing?"
"im building a home"
"what are you doing?"
"im being alone"

(to make some sense some times is lucky)
(some way to survive is coming.)
probably from 2013. found 6/15/16
Kyle Kulseth Jun 2016
Bills are scheming with a lightweight check
               again.
Swear to God they must by
         best of friends.
And now I'm sitting solo on my couch
               again
with these 4 walls.
They've become parenthetic.

It's the same everywhere,
               I know.
Same for my friends.
'Cuz the loan checks that we're writing won't
          pay dividends.
We majored in Assumptions,
tossed our caps and
               then
we found new meanings
for what's copasetic.

Now it's easy...
too **** easy...
So easy...
It's too easy.

To wander these same neighborhoods
and stay in tiny, ****** apartments
when the loose ends of your 20s tangle
and you're tied to where you've always been.

And I'll never ask for
          FOR ANYONE'S HELP.
But I still can't take
          CARE OF MYSELF.
So I'll
          COOK MY DINNERS
     ON THESE BURNING BILLS
and laugh my way to the bank
so they can repossess my smile.

Days keep blurring through to nightlight gleams,
               I know
time is racing past but
      thoughts are slowed.
And I'll be sitting pretty on my couch
               alone
inside 4 walls
because habits are a home.

It's the same everywhere,
               I know.
Same for us all.
Late nights and lame jokes we're making
          push back walls.
We majored in Assumptions,
tossed our caps and
               all
we found were new ways
to be pathetic.

But it's easy...
just too easy...
So easy...
It's too easy.

To stay in soured relationships,
stay still in tiny, ****** apartments
when the low points of your paychecks dangle
while you're trying to climb as high as rent.

And we couldn't be in
          ANY WORSE HEALTH.
And we couldn't be less
          FAIR TO OURSELVES
but we'll keep on keeping
like it's copasetic

And we'll never ask for
          ANYONE'S HELP.
Though we still can't take
          CARE OF OURSELVES.
So we'll
          COOK PLATES OF CROW
          ON OUR BURNING BILLS
and laugh our way downtown
where we can reassess our smiles.
CE Thompson Aug 2014
the military came today
a brigade marching in line
and its too late for order while im laying in bed
watching them cross the ceiling in unison
black bodies following the cracks like deer paths
that should be used for dreaming about new horizons
but instead we’ve got the army charging in for battle
with microscopic villains who cling to the dust
hidden in the wall since before
we could give ants life with our peripheral thoughts
and mine are a screaming desire for parenthetic
phrases with sidetracks and bright colors
not the rigid two-by-two of little black boots
not bothering to explore the drywall universe before them
i'm starting a project called "Faces" where i write poetry about people and their experiences.  this one is for Maya.  if there are any poems you would like written about an experience you've been through, any at all, let me know

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