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Andrew Parker Jul 2018
Bones for Breakfast
July 2014

Bones are like peanut brittle.
Gnawed on til toothless,
by us old mangy mutts.
Tastes sweet tender as a drop 'o dew,
Feels soft in a bride's whisper, "I do."
But speaks crunchy crackles of Tic-Tac language,
instead of ******* out bad breath breathe shards in.

Although bones may break,
become buried under archaeologists' noses,
slip through crevices cracked and crumbled.
They were once anything but brittle,
covered only by skin yet to be bruised,
backs yet to be battered,
blood yet to be spilled,
faces yet to witness the history yet to be written.

I do not believe we are supposed to eat bones,
but we break them down into shreds of paper-back tidbits,
consumable by children during the snack time called 'history class.'
Our teachers are creating cannibals,
consuming culture on textbook platters,
but pay no mind while wearing bone bibs,
they leave out the thickest cuts of meat and just eat the ribs.

History is a living thing, dressed to deceive those who blindly believe.
I remember reading George Washington's claim to fame,
"I did not chop down that cherry tree."
But Mr. President, what about your enemies?
Because every revolution needs people to die for the revolutionaries.
Ain't that a sweet piece of cherry lie pie?

I learned Genghis Khan sure got it on with many women,
but didn't read about Alexander the Great's great ***,
much of it involving a same-gendered mate.
Wait, was that a mixture of patriarchy and hetero-normativity?
Words that weren't worth the pennies to print?
Who hired these fact checkers for the publishing industries?
I'll give you a hint,
Learn who has the most to gain from condemning intellectual content and corrupting it with a corrosive lack of social conscience.
As textbook reps tell professors, "Buy our books with cute new features."  But since when was that what made good teachers?
And so, these chapters get served to us on poo poo platters,
passed off to be refreshing as fresh mint pours in for corporations like Pearson Education.

I surveyed the lay of the land in Egypt,
purveying the literature of pharaohs.
Pyramids meant to portray a portrait of powerful people,
not a foolish riddle.
"Who built them," we ask.
But not of curiosity for whose backs broke building.
Its whose bones mummified beneath are made into mythological creatures along with Sphinx features.

I was taught the Holocaust was a unique horror story,
along with the catch phrase "never again."
Yet those 600 pages neglected to educate about the "re-education campaign" against the Cambodians.
Where was I to learn of the Rwanda civilization's tensions and exterminations?
Perhaps those pages were buried in the mass graves and dirt ditches, deserted and desecrated like the indigenous individuals we now call Native Americans.

Tell me more about art again.
It conveys a message about the historical humans experience,
but I think that message got lost sometime in the Renaissance Period.
When men had beards and wore colorful clothing,
but now that is either unprofessional or deemed gay as a bad thing.
When women were depicted full-bodied as that meant social status,
but now they are painted in photo shop with air brushes and slimmed slick.
We've created a glorious new empire of gastrointestinal bypass Groupons, and have either **** out or surgically removed all the bones we swallowed to get here... So, who's ready for lunch?
“One of the effects of living with electronic information is that we live habitually in a state of information overload.”                                                      
                                                                                      Marshall McLuhan
So, let’s review:
Man is a thinking animal.
Stanley Kubrick took us to space to get us to think.
Marshall McLuhan:  “There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.”
Hemetucky: what was I thinking?
The Rapture for the 1%:   The Language of the World and The Language of Enthusiasm explains why Sir Richard  Branson’s ****** Galactic will only be taking the richest among us to space.
Ian (Limey Futurologist) Pearson:  “Binary is already the dominant language on Planet Earth with today’s machines having more conversations in 24 hours than the whole of humankind since the birth of Eve.”
Larry Flynt:  “**** is the answer to everything.”
Goofy:  “Yeah, I ****** Minnie. I shagged her rotten, baby!”  
Winston Smith:  “Do it to Julia!”
McNugget Buddies:   “Parts is parts.”                                          
Stunod: “Donuts-a -spella backwards issa stunod.” Think about it.
Tony Soprano.  “You ****** stunod, it's a joke.” (Stunod:  in southern dialect Italian means stupid, or a stupid person) http://(www.urbandictionary.com) define.php?term = stunod  / buy stunod mugs & shirts
Marshall McLuhan:    “Jokes are grievances.”
Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino:  “Antonio Gramsci thought that Stalin and Bolshevism could save him and Italy from Fascism:  stunod.”
The Cloud:  My acceptance of the Cloud into my life and my changeling cyborg self is by no means a capitulation to the surfing life.
Paulo Coehlo:  “The God you seek; that someone who awaits you is you.”
Howard Beale:  “That’s the God *******.”
God:   “Because you’re on television, stunod!”
The Elders of Zion:  Nu?
Meir Kahane:  “Let us not suffer from a national amnesia that causes us to forget who and what we are. No trait is more justified than revenge in the right time and place. I know that American and Israeli elections must be limited only to those who understand that the Arabs are the deadly enemy of the Jewish state, who would bring on us a slow Auschwitz - not with gas, but with knives and hatchets. Vote for Newt!”

**** Jagger:    “Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out” (40th Anniversary Edition, Rolling Stones)
Keith Richards +Fijian palm tree = Stunod.  
Marshall McLuhan:   “The more the data banks record about each of us, the less we exist.”    
Howard Beale: “If there's anybody out there that can look around this demented slaughterhouse of a world we live in and tell me that man is a noble creature, believe me: That man is not only full of *******, that man is  stunod.”
The Nam, Part I:   a demented slaughterhouse within a microcosm and grains of beach sand inside micro-Cosmo Kramer’s shorts. When I was in the Kingdom of The Nam I was always under the influence of some drug, mostly my own pure adrenaline when scared shitless--a frequent condition for me—not only my own piquant adrenal juice but other stuff like ****, hash, Thai stick, *****, amphetamines, H-Horse ******, quaaludes, horse tranquilizers and Russian *****. The drugs were always a welcome and needed friend, a respite from the horrors of war in Southeast Asia. To meditate & levitate, to transmigrate & navigate, to negotiate & regurgitate myself, I needed a head start if I was going to SLIDE through what would be called a wormhole today, making a three-dimensional movement between different parallel universes, a conquest of time and space. Cue our favorite narrator:
Rod Serling:  “You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension--a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone.”
WWII, Part I:  A slider now, I SLIDE to my father’s war—the War in Europe in the years before V.E. Day, May 8, 1945. Suddenly I’m flipped right out of the jungle to Germania, to Deutschland in the winter of 1945. I am a P.O.W. of the Germans, sent out into the economy as slave labor. It’s February in Dresden, Germany, the Baroque capital of the German state of Saxony, the city called lovingly by her (****!) many lovers: “The Florence of the Elbe.” It was a long time ago, during the war and I Survived to Tell the Tale. I am a wet floppy Kilgore Trout; I’ve flopped right out of the Twilight Zone into what appears to be an underground meat locker in Dresden. There are animal carcasses hanging from the ceiling and the building is known as Slaughterhouse Number 5. I am a lucky ******* because even though I don’t know it yet, I’m in the safest place in the entire city. Cue the Bombing of Dresden, a strategic military bombing by the British Royal Air Force (RAF) and the United States Army Air Force (USAAF).  In four raids, 1,300 heavy bombers dropped more than 3,900 tons of high-explosive bombs and incendiary devices on Dresden. The resulting firestorm destroyed 15 square miles (39 square kilometers) of the city centre and killed many thousands, according to **** figures-- largely discredited by the victors who not only get the spoils but get to spin the history any which way but loose. Casualty figures were 200,000 and death toll estimates went as high as 500,000. Or maybe just 25,000 total, if you believe the ******* Anglo-American valkyries who unleashed the wrath of Khan’s Smoking Joe’s Barbecue Ribs and Hotlinks. Win a war, get a medal and a seat in Congress, maybe the White House; lose a war, get indicted. You’re going to Nuremberg, pilgrim, or the ******* Hague.
Kurt Vonnegut: “World War II was over and I was standing in the middle of Times Square with a Purple Heart on and a purple hard-on.”
Colonel Kurtz:  “We fight for the land that's under our feet, the gold that's in our hands, women that worship the power in our *****.  I summon fire from the sky. Do you know what it is to be a white man who can summon fire from the sky? ...What it means? You can live and die for these things, not silly ideals that are always betrayed  . . . I swallowed a bug. Who are you, captain?”
Willard:   “Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste. I've been around for a long long year, stolen many man's soul and faith. Stuck around St. Petersburg when I saw it was a time for a change. Killed the Tsar and his ministers, Anastasia screamed in vain. I rode a tank, held a gen'rals rank when the blitzkrieg raged and the bodies stank. Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.”  
WWII, Part II:  The bombing of Dresden had to have been some kind of a violation of some International Code or Geneva Convention. But, of course, the bombers, the Victors, ran the Nuremberg show trials. The bombees didn’t get a chance to say much, didn’t want to make a fuss, seeing how generous the Army of Occupation was with their coal, gasoline, clothing and food handouts. But I was there when it was safe to climb out of the meat locker, and immediately got put to work on the après les bombes clean-up. I was there doing the ***** work, a corpse miner, tasked with collecting the fried grasshopper remains of so many unlucky Krauts who were simply burned alive, like heretics at the Inquisition. So it goes.
William Tecumseh Sherman: “War is Hell, Babaloo!”
Colonel Kilgore: “You can either surf, or you can fight!”
Sam Bottoms: “I dropped a tab of acid at the Do-Long Bridge, so I think I’ll surf for awhile: ‘I see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.’ Reading Blake: for years it was the only way I could block out the war, that and losing myself in a bunch of undercover assignments. Yeah, it was William Blake, I-Spy and lots more acid; that how I dealt with PTSD.”
The Nam, Part II, LT DAN:  “Good job, trooper; those ******* drugs got you coming and going, sliding so fast you’ve missed latrine duty 3 times this month. Now go get 5 gallons of diesel fuel and gasoline, mix it together and torch that ******* feces, soldier.”
** Chi Minh:  “This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around.”
***** Friedman:   “The Democrats and Republicans are the same guy admiring himself in the mirror.”

Muhammad Hosni El Sayed Mubarak:   “Vote for Pedro.”
Drew Gilpin Faust, Harvard:    “Fight Fiercely!”
Marshall McLuhan:    “I wouldn’t have seen it if I hadn’t believed it.”
The Author:   I am a disaffected angry old man, formerly a disaffected angry young man; a Hopi-Italian Jew with Chinese offspring, namely my left-brained son, a mathematical genius but having a tough time dealing with idiots, the many truly stunod people in the world.  Then there’s my Rose, my sweet King Lear-jet daughter, like her half-brother, not yet finished paying for my sins. My offspring are haunted, visited upon daily by their father’s  ghosts, ghosts created, ghosts hovering over me, from wars hot and cold and peace lukewarm and cloudy, like the uranium ground contamination on the mesa, visited upon mothers and infants  and children who seek only a glass of cool water from the spring not to be glow worms in the dark, leukocytes made insane by something in the water. My sins, a father’s sins; things I did to curry favor, to ingratiate and advance myself with the 1%, things I did to get ahead in life, to get what I thought my father and others in the ancestral slipstream had failed to get, twice to the Rabbi for a get (Hebrew: גט‎, plural gittin גיטין), to get the edge my kids need now, the edge I never had, and life reduced to an exercise in ultimate combat, little more than a cage fight, man against man and God against all. The things I did for money and position shame me now. And shame is a large  source of my anger.  I will remain angry. I will hang on to my anger at God and myself and all who have been disappointed in me, by me, especially the cavalcade of short-term caretakers, women used, abused, left behind and forgotten. Why am I me? Sometimes I think that’s the way I’m programmed. But it’s okay, like Gaga: “I'm beautiful in my way 'Cause God makes no mistakes I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way' Cause God makes no mistakes, I'm on the right track, baby, I was born this way and will I continue to surf the Cloud: even though God is dead and I don’t believe you, or me, or them.
Basic: remember Basic?

10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30   GOTO 10
10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30  GOTO 10
10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30 A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 30
30  GOTO 10 Ad infinitum
elijah Dec 2014
Let us run,
Let us hide,
Let us fade,
Along with the tide.
Within the sea,
She silently breathed,
The heavens were waiting,
Along with me.

Miss you she said
-looking up at the sky-
She turned her back,
And waved goodbye.
Submerged by the water,
Slowly she sinks
-Timeless and lifeless-
No seconds to think.

Slowly she drifts,
At peace at last.
Looking back at her life,
It sure was a blast.
What happened to her?
What went so wrong?
What caused her to go..
After so long?

The time has now ended,
Along with her pain.
She can now rest,
Can't be harmed again.

E.M Pearson
elijah Dec 2014
She stared at her thighs,
Tears streaming her face,
Wanting to hide,
In an isolated place.

Fatter and fatter,
They grew and grew,
Before her eyes,
Yet nobody knew.

The pain she felt,
As she watched her reflection,
Searching around her,
Wanting protection.

Her heart starts to bleed,
And her bones start to wither,
Her skin loses colour,
She continues to shiver.

The person inside her,
Causing these thoughts,
Distort her reality,
And need to be caught.

She has an illness,
A serious one too,
So please don't ignore it,
Cause next could be you.

So let's raise awareness,
Of these devils inside,
Let's hunt them down,
Leaving nowhere to hide.

Reach out your hand,
Come on, speak out,
We will beat this together,
Lets scream and shout--

To victory at last!
Its been a long time coming,
So many lost lives,
But we're no longer running.

E.M Pearson
Not one of my best poems... I'm very aware of that. This poem was written for the purpose of awareness as oppose to an expression of emotion. Too many people suffer from mental illness and too many of these cases get ignored. Its time to take a stand.

*PLEASE NOTE* The first few stanzas of this poem may be triggering to vulnerable readers.
elijah Dec 2014
There comes a time
In everyday,
Where sense of reality
Withers away,

In hours or seconds-
Days or years,
Your soul will awaken,
Along with your tears.

Red as the roses
And weeping like willows,
The windows start crying
While your lungs start to billow.

But when this time comes,
And you cant get away,
Please stick around
For at least one more day.

I know things are hard,
But they will be okay,
Please let down your guard,
We will make it someday.

E.M Pearson
I have a new big brother
He's dressed in tory blue
He's not just my big brother
I think he's your bro too!
He sits up in his tower
Pulling strings across the land
But when a string of his should break
It's not his *** that gets canned
I found out my incumbent
Goes to Africa every year
In fact I'm told he stays there
For as long as he stays here
I don't really believe it
But you know it must be true
My Big Brother called to tell me
I'm surprised that he got through
Six months away is what we're told
Glen Pearson spent away
But tales like this sound more like they
Were told by Stockwell Day
So late at night, my phone did ring
To tell me how to vote
They told me how the Liberals
Were up the creek without a boat
I know that I'm supposed to go
To the church across the street
That's where the poll is and I know
It's where our local voters meet
But when my bro called down to me
And said, "You don't go there"
This time you vote in Ingersoll
There is no line up there
My big brother said we were wrong
His party would not stoop
To do phone calls to folks like us
That was a bunch of ****
Why would he lie, he is the King
I've read his license plate
He's my brother, one I'm told
That holds on to my fate
His party gave out tax rewards
To companies for jobs
They took all of the money
And they closed the shop down....slobs
It's funny how one person can
Phone ridings, not one missed
But I can't get their calls to stop
And I'm on the no call list
Robo calling is  what it is
A heinous crime at best
Nixon used it in the States
Although he never did confess
Comparing my Big Brother now
To Tricky Dicky Nixon
Well, I've got to say
Those PC's sure know just the way to  fix one.
To hang one man out for this task
It surely can't be true
I wonder if he'll change his mind
And his suit of Tory Blue
I ask around and all I hear
is I voted NDP
So, how in hell, explain to me
they'e a majority
I know that my Big Brother
Would not do such a thing
Excuse me for a moment
But my phone's about to ring!
Rough ***,
thin skin,
still breathing.

-Lauren Pearson
We wrote a bunch of these in class. This is the one I decided I liked the most.
Our reality is always
changing.
Turning, wobbling.
Falling apart,
and back together again.

I expect nothing from life.

The problem with
beliefs.
The problem with
expectations.

They lead to disappointment.

To live without ideas
of how life comes and goes,
is to be wise.

Ride with life.
All its steep hills
and double loops.
Embrace whatever happens.
Bury it in your arms
and realize that this...
this is the part of
life that terrifies people.

Because beliefs...they're ignorant.
Expectations...they're irrelevant.
Let go of all the weights holding
you. Free yourself to a life of
traveling. Experience your emotions,
your pain, your happiness.
Let yourself be taken into the
chaotic, peaceful, violent, loving, lying, helping, wonderfully ironic,
state we call being alive.

I am Lauren Pearson,
and I am not a believer.
I have opened my eyes,
and I am enlightened.
Thought it would an interesting take on the popular 'I Believe' trend.
I'll probably write an actual one soon. Enjoy my lovelies.
Mike Bergeron Dec 2012
Like,    
Just   the  way  I  make    away.    
I know    time    maybe    left    air    
For    my    face.   I   feel    my    eyes,    hair.  
Really    got    right    today,
Cuz    old    Night    means    good    love.    
I    told    myself    inside,    
I     guess   the     mind   is   ****,    
I    think    life   is  this    house,    
I    want    water.    
Smoke   makes    that    little    *******    ****    feel    like    skin.    
I    Say   I   saw…    they're    light.    
Home    looks    roomy,    
Head    hits    bed.    
There's   a    window    that    falls,    
Tried    a   street    man   that     couldn't    walk.  
My    blood   is    red.  
I    need   a   real    past,
My   hands   are    cold    sweat.    
Isn't    hell   watching    people,    years?    
Brain    feeling    American.  
Apartment    doesn't   feel   gone,
Hands    trying   to    be    dead,    
Getting    rain.    
Stop    waiting,  
Wind.    
Black   in    place,    
She's   always    happening!    
Let's   see   sense,    
Better    forget   the   dark    morning.
Heart,    feet    are    open.    
Sure,
Passing    fat   looked     ******,  
But   walking   guys  
Hear    wet    dust.    
In    came    sleep…    
Remember   laughter?    
Arm,    hope,    
Newly    broken.    
Burning    hard,    
Standing    on    the    floor   with     the     rest.    
Going    knows    gold.    
Heat    sounds       escaping,  
Sit    outside     instead.    
Car    going    ‘thump’,  
Best    world    forever.
Alive,    
God    comes    white.    
Asleep,    start   asking.    
Thoughts,    believing    in    far.
Beautiful,    moving,    
Turns    kept    the   road    long.    
Falling    father,    dirt   on   a   red     neck,  
Dropping    flames.
Eating    pressure.    
You'll   lose     things,    
Dreams    break.  
Set,    lost,    close    cut.    
Oh,    no     matter,    
It     has    been    brought.    
Making   songs    leave     the   mouth,
Sights    of    a    child     shrouded    in    blue    lights.    
City,    ok?    
Windows,    
Kids    are    expected,
A     pulled    stomach,    
Point   was    took.    
Pearson    sent   his   parents    to     the    big    ground.
Wall    of     energy,  
Cloud    of     glass.    
You've  (  ).    
Won't (  ).  
We're (  ).    
School    makes    the    soul   smile,  
Green    ones    full   of    glee.  
Hot    body,    lips    breathing,
Taking,
Using,    
Playing    lives.    
Stand.    
Lay.    
Lie    girl,    
Different      things     can    happen,    
Small    teeth    fall.    
Nothing     happened.    
The    river   has     seen   its    worth    in    leaves,    
The    sun   is    fine.
Drive.    
Fingers    carefully     fly.    
Heavy    riding     heard,    I     knew    the     figure.    
Probably    picked    an    older     man.    
Walking    near   the    door,    a    dog     howls.    
Chest    plan:    free   space.
Yea,   a    plastic    throat,    
Spent    ears,    
Children    drunk,    screaming.    
Stove    ---sightline----    cool     to     the    touch.    
A     cigarette   is     replaced.    
The      roof    fills,    
We'll    say     it      wouldn't,
But    it   spills.  
Kettle     is     shut.    
The    crowd    lies.    
I    get    in     my    cheeks    that    dream    taste,  
Wake  with    it    forgotten.    
I      held    a     human…    wait…..    
Just     rotting    money.    
Truth.    
The    sea    uses    sunlight;  
Think    of   that   fact.    
Coming,    living   sick,    
Wishing     the    weight    of    boys   grew    high.    
Pretty    pass    growing    mold,    
Pull     it,    
Then    explain.    
The    sidewalk    has    grown,   I’m     talking    blocks.  
Looking    hurt,  
In    a    memory    corner,    
I     wonder     why   I     painted    filled    *******.    
Follow    me,    shirt    brother,  
Rise    from      ripped   yellow    faces.    
We’re     all    scared.    
Eventually    the   men    say    spring,    
The    snow    turns    grey,    glowing.    
Sounds    paid    for,    blame    runs     deep.  
I    bought    an    adjusted    flying    weather    cat.
The    stretcher    is     *****,
Uncomfortable.    
Thoughts    do    magic     with      clouds,    
Just    a    paint    job.    
Kiss,    hold,   for    hours.    
My     desire    torn,    the     pieces    hide.    
Run.    
Drink.    
Fear  
Death.    
Die    in     the    year    you’re      supposed      to.    
Wrong    garbage,     cabrón.    
Reading,   I    realize    I’m    quite    sane.    
But     beauty   is    slowly    ending.    
The    town    watched    us    holding    our    work.    
One     burned    word:    FUTURE.    
Kind   paths,    catching    ears,    displays.    
Glowing,    
Burning,    
Paying    attention.    
The    reality:    I    miss    *******,    crossed    noses,    
Sand,    fruit,  
Wearing    smiles   I    barely    felt.    
Case    for     infinity:   double    humanity    lives.    
A     woman,    with    bones    rippling,    
A    rock    lot,    
A    circle    grave.    
View   it    filling.    
My    baby    looks    tired.      
Tie   her    too    soon,    watch    the    grass    laid    dry.    
Colored    boxes    rolling    uphill,    
Police   under     brown   cover.    
I    adjust   to   the     necessary    gaze,    
Shoes    are     half   in    the   &nbs
elijah Oct 2015
The vastness of the Earth.
The depth of the Sea.
The sparkle of the stars,
Are what led you to me.

Your deep blue eyes,
Your glistening smile,
The fluttery feelings
Been distant a while.

Protectively Shielding,
I put up my guard,
You pull me in closely
and see that Im scarred.

You kiss my cheek gently,
Fears floated a way,
Reaching out for my hand;
'I am here to stay.'

E.M Pearson
Maddy Oct 2016
Two minds bond together
A mutual feeling of oneness
Time stands still
Life and joy
The moment lives forever
Fingers running over velvet skin
Sweet scent of your body
Gentle movements in rhythm with our bonding
My heart sings with pure pleasure
The moment lives forever
Breathing and lost in time
Arousal wetness flows freely
Entering is ecstatic joy
Sighs of mutual pleasure
The moment lives forever

- Pearson-
THOUGHTS
Days consumed with images and memories of you...
hugs,smiles,
jokes,laughs,
stares, sweet kisses so thoughts continue.
Looking towards the constellations deep contemplations
of whether or not we are destined to be controls my entity.
Distracted by the funky melondies of untalented singers disrupt my yearning heartbeat.
At times the feeling of flight overpowers me
but there's something about you that leads to the constant cancellations of my many trips.
See shorty doo *** rolling oowops...
you intrigued my mind, captured my soul and now your so close to holding my heart that it seems unreal.
I don't fall easily!
You're piercing my heart without my consent.
You shot me in the back and I became limp to all my Desires
all the while I was looking at you,eye to eye,
Yes this was the entire time.
Confusing right,
frustratingly enough its pretty complex this surprise attack.
I have yet to start the healing process but what's even worse is Im not absolutely sure if I want to experience that,
Or if your even ready yet!

Guess Not...
You said you'll take a Raincheck

Just Speak
Ta'resa Pearson
Audra Brown Feb 2012
Can you take me to the stars above?
Bring me down some stardust?
Kiss me like the world's gonna end
Hold me like a hurricane's coming.

Because I lean on you when I'm too weak
And I need you more than you need me
And if I honestly had to tell the truth
I could never explain how much I need you

And if darkness covers this soul of mine
I hope your light continues to shine
Because beautiful lights are the best gift
God can give,
And your light's better than the dark where I live

So promise me your best, but don't give me all
Save some for yourself in case we begin to fall
God makes beautiful things to last
And if that's true, you're here for times long past
The times I'll roam this earth
Beauty remains where others lack worth


“Star’s Dust” Analysis
When writing “Star’s Dust”, I was trying to capture the moment when you realize exactly how much a person means to you. The feeling that a certain person can give you more, just by being in your life, than any other person in the world is irreplaceable to me and I wanted to capture that feeling. I wrote this poem when I was thinking of someone I could not imagine losing because that person is so important in the foundations of my life. Every time I see that person’s smile, Rusten’s smile, it’s like they just brought me a little bit of star dust.
The usage of star dust is an allusion to Peter and the Star Catchers by Barry and Pearson, a story I read in middle school that is an interesting telling of the well known fairytale, Peter Pan. In the story, when a shooting star hits earth, a group of people is responsible for finding the star and collecting its dust because the dust gives the ability to fly when touched. So the allusion to star dust is my way of saying that Rusten’s smile makes me feel like I’m flying.
The first stanza is mostly focused on wanting him to stay with me. The world ending and “hurricanes coming” are both events where you cling to the person you love with no intention of ever letting go. They are both events where every second you’re still alive is precious and you have to make the most of those few precious seconds. I wanted to make it very clear that I don’t want to waste one second of my life with him not there.
The second stanza is a confession of fear. My worst fear is that I’m going to end up alone. The speaker of the poem voices this fear by explaining how she relies on that person and states her belief that she needs him more than he needs her so it would be easier for him to leave her.
The third stanza is a bit of my past coming in to play. For the majority of my junior year I was a very dark, cynical person because of some things that changed my view on the world. Looking back, I realize it was very hard for him to cope with me being so negative and full of darkness and gloom. So the third stanza is really dedicated to telling him that I don’t want his happiness to be lessened everytime I’m unhappy because his happiness is a light that kept me trying when I really wanted to give up.
Lastly, the fourth stanza was a kind of resolve in my mind. I realize that we are human, that we will both mistakes and that somewhere along the way, we might lose each other. The speaker says, “So promise me your best, but don't give me all/ Save some for yourself in case we begin to fall” because I believed it very important that he know that neither of us, despite how happy we might be together, should invest our entire selves into each other. Because we are human and we might not always have each other, I think it a mistake to base everything we are off of each other.
The last four lines are a bit of my self deprecating attitude because I think he is so much better than I am. The main purpose of the last lines was to convey that emotion. The last line, “Beauty remains where others lack worth” is a truth I’ve seen in life. After a destructive wildfire, the trees, grass and flowers can still come back. That’s how life is too. Bad things come but they don’t last because the beauty in life always wins. I’ve always thought Rusten was better than me, so I decided a long time ago that in the end, he will end up in a much happier place than me because it’s what he deserves.
what is love
is it kissing each other
is it hugging
no love is when you care for someone and
will never let them go but it is also kissing hugging
but you need to care to be loved
if you dont cares for the pearson who loves you
they will break your heart and neber agin will they love you
please tell me what i have to write to get hearts and tell your friends come and look at my poems follow me i dont care i love potery it is my life leave comments on what you want me to write about
Pearson Bolt Feb 2017
a phone call
from area code 772.
Jensen Beach, FL.
a retreat beside the waves.
a refuge built
so far away
to keep you safe
and help you
recuperate.

i slide my thumb across the screen,
busting the chains of my purgatory.
you pause briefly,
right before you say, "Hello, Pearson."
your inflection hangs
on my name,
as if to hold me
in your mouth.
i linger in your lungs
like the smoke
from your favorite
cigarettes.
when you breathe
me out, i hear the sigh
of relief, signaling how much
you'd hoped i'd pick up.

you say, "so,
tell me something new."
a detail i neglected to include
in one of the daily letters
i'd sent to you. absently,
i search for a subject.
anything. but all
that comes to mind
is, "god, you've no idea
how much i've missed you.
it's so good to hear you speak."

five minutes. that's all.
i wish i'd had more time.
i would've used my tongue
to gently ply
your contours
and tantalize your mind.
i once built a home
inside your psyche.
a dragon usurped my throne,
but only temporarily.
i returned with an army
of those who'd die
to liberate you.
so permit me to feed
your creativity,
enabling your addiction
to my free-verse.

don't mind me
as i continually use
my poetry to clean
up the place.
i'll weave you a tapestry
of multicolor. you've kicked
the habit, but you still fancy
the way my lyrics get
your knees knocking,
your body quaking.
you couldn't quit me
even if you wanted to.

so, i'll remain
in the secret places
of your brain, building bridges
across rivers of synaptic gaps
until, one day,
you'll find me spray-painting graffiti
in your dopamine cathedral.
you'll ask, "after all this time?"

and i'll say, "always."
i'll plant new seeds
until i run out of letters
to string together. with each
polyrhythmic twirl,
a dexterous melody
will exacerbate your ecstasy,
each stanza a slick finger
slipping beneath
your skin, leaving you
calling out my name again.
Jessica Griego May 2010
To give something from the heart
Expecting love and gratitude
Is like trying to give a heart
To a heartless pearson
Or to give love to someone
Who spits upon it..
- From my inner me
Joe Sep 2017
Once an Augustinian abbey
Yet open all year round
Vaulted ceilings
Lofty light space
Elegant arches
Until Henry
Poured hot water
On the sugared stones
A short lived tantrum
A small church springs
Into a Cathedral
G. E Street
New nave
Gothic revival
J. L Pearson
Twin towers at the west end
******'s bombs could only
Smash a few windows
An abstract image of the holy spirit
Adele Mar 2019
you fly with your wings
navigating in the air
with the control of your hands
wearing the four stripes

waving in the air, telling the world
that the time has come
and you are ready to soar up high

The wheels touched Charles de Gaulle
and found yourself in the night of Porto,
sipping red wine just beside the coast
that covers the face of a man from the fog of yesterday’s memory

The flight from Toronto and the girl who gave a beam from the Pearson’s gate, disappeared

you walked the cobbled street that lead you back to your hotel room, opening the balcony

you just couldn’t stop looking at the setting sun, and the birds that goes along the melody of a piano you played on the background.

— The End —