"stepford" poems
stepford wife, smile bright
cook, clean, fix, listen, shine
a trophy, prize, conquest
overused, underloved, broken, dies
unassembled puzzle, incomplete
pieces an unclear fit, break
silent muzzled, scattered, quit
exhausted, out is in a box
for puzzles, games, like little talk
brought to shelved bars, stay
viewed only, never touched
succumb, suffocate, decay
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
She's the women
You imagined
Stepford wife
She sit's with Hands clasped tightly
Courtney Loves drunken sister
Resonates within
Her wilted box keeps disintegrating
Her barricades
Useless
Soaking filth from the ground
She would cry
Tears dry
Salt is only producing
She's a mist uncontrolled
Wild growing daisy
Sitting in a ticky tack
Garden
She sees freedom
Fake
Placed in the deserts hot sun
Thirsty
Last drink
Now haunts
Suited up in her dress
She carries on
Fragmented
Dissapointing denial
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC
The warm soft coral petals on the face,
sheltering the delicate eye tissue underneath,
no longer flutter open,
to see
the many signed divorce papers on the mahogany desk in the home office,
the Bon Jovi tickets in the right hand pocket of the J.Crew pants,
the facebook profile of the attractive girl online whom were predestined to one of those tickets,
the letter of resignation hidden in the black briefcase,
the guitar that was pulled out of the garage hanging in his office,
the numbers of old bandmates on the coffee table,
the disappointed faces of the family and friends, and
the lengths taken in the pursuit of happiness.
And yet, he lies there knowing that, he misses
the sky,
the sun,
the stars,
the moon,
the variegated leaves in the fall and spring,
the wheel in the front lawn tied by a rope to an sturdy branch,
the cerulean colored house that was painted by cheap labor,
the fat cat lounging in the parkinglot of his workplace,
the boss that threatened due to an inferior complex,
the punk the daughter was infatuated with, with the waned colored skin and dyed blond greasy hair,
the plain-Jane daughter and her defiance of his authority,
the stepford wife and her arguments about misplaced toothbrushes and
the co-worker and his chiseled face with an inquisitive smirk of all knowingness.
And he realizes that now.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:30 AM UTC
i sat on my roof and screamed,
i'm gonna revolutionize this
god **** world if it kills me
and my neighbors all turned
and stared, interrupted from
mowing their lawns, washing
their cars, teaching their sons
to play catch, and daughters
to go fetch their morning papers
they quickly turned away at
the realization that it was just that
crazy neighbor girl who hasn't
done **** with her four year
degree, but create a fortress
in which she hides day after day
they smell that stanky marijuana
pluming out of her window
and watch her stumble home, drunk,
listening to her sing along to the music
that the devil has surely put on this
earth to corrupt good catholics,
like the one she once was
and they shake their heads and
hold tight to their son's shoulders
and even tighter to their daughter's
hands, because maybe, just maybe
if they hold on tight enough they'll
always be dumb enough to withstand
because the masses are the winners
and this is the spoiler,
we're being taken over by cookie cutting
stepford wannabe *************
and they're gonna ruin the world
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
Hello there! Our favorite "friend"!
How are you today?
We have a niche that's just for YOU
Won't you come and play?
We'll do our little "nectar dance"!
We'll draw you in, and then,
We'll rearrange your mindset
And spit you out again.
*Welcome to The Hive, sister!
We'll tell you how to act.
We'll tempt you with our honey
It's sweet, and that's a fact.
Yes! Welcome to The Hive, brother
Come into our tree!
We'll program you to think like US
So what if you're not FREE?
Welcome to The Hive, my friend,
To your 6-sided cell
We welcome you to OUR beliefs
Welcome to the meld...*
So you like your Saviour?
Fine! All well and good.
But you MUST throw out
*The Word of God*
Is that understood?
You want to have your reading?
By all means! A MUST!
But make sure that we see it
And it's approved by US.
(CHORUS)
We have the answers here, good folk!
We've been there! We've been bound!
But now there is a way out! YES!
Come see what we have FOUND!
Oh? You hear a WAILING?
Take no notice of the sound...
It's going to get *louder cuz
WE'RE GOING UNDERGROUND...
(CHORUS)
We welcome you to Stepford
At the tolling of the bell
We welcome you to MIND CONTROL
WE WELCOME YOU TO HELL*.
Catherine Jarvis
SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/27/2017
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
Ken and Barbie drive around
in their matchbox cars in my small town
its bright yellow with a stripe you'll see
how hard they try, and wanna be
admired by everyone /including me
stepford wives, and soccer moms
stepford husbands mowing lawns
with perfect twins that keep them in
competition to hide their sins
their tongues spew knives from their lips
about a neighbor that's not so hip...
they're so busy judging everyone
they don't notice flowers in the sun
words, or art -- or people like me
that don't fit in the picture they see
I stand alone in my small town
while Ken, and Barbie drive around.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
---$---$---
Hi there! Want to be my friend?
I'm a very popular girl!
Welcome to my dream!
Welcome to my world!
First of all we'll have to change
Your clothing and your hair.
I'll put on your makeup.
Right now you're just so... bare!
Now... you'll need to
say some things...
I'll prompt you. Just recieve.
Cuz right now your conversation
Is silly and naive.
Those friends of yours?
They're LOSERS.
They are not OK.
Just think and talk like one of us...
... we're happy as can be!
You have another problem.
That POETRY lacks class.
Just take all that writing
and throw it in the trash.
See! Now that you are not yourself
Now that you're unkind
Now that you're my
Queen Bee drone
and you don't have a MIND...
You are My Creation!
Oh, c'mon... don't be blue...
We welcome you to Stepford...
... where you're no longer YOU.
SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/22/2013
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
I didn't make it through the movie "On the Road"
It didn't translate well to film, or maybe it's me
worry grips me and I cut my clonozapan carefully into fourths
and take one fourth and smash my finger into the dust and lick it off
I value it more than their benzodrine
The moment I awaken, the fear grips me, and then what?
One pill is consumed every few hours in the morning and early afternoon
leaving the next, for the panic of the evening
how will it end. I don't want to go back. I am told not to think of it anymore
there is nothing more to be learned and it is only like rubbing my wrist
against a razor, trying to get through those tendons to reveal the pulsing red
their faces, my bosses, with their pasted on smiles, Stepford wives every one of them
the male, the female and everything in between
focus on the students, they will lose a good teacher soon
I am sad for that, yes and buried down in some black hole of my consciousness I know it is true. I am that good teacher for
the girl who must move again this year, like last year and walks home
to the poor neighborhod where she lives and hears gunshots every night
My intervention and pleading for her teacher
to please reach out to her, because she is failing, and is afraid of you
even if you don't believe in gunshots or her cousin shot and dieing in front of her
and yes having mercy is one of my strengths, as my pancreatic cat rests on his catnip toy
and I care about those kids
not the stupid school
and even if I've put myself on the line, I am no phony Stepford wife
and if their reality, those kids reality is ugly and we know about it, we must help
even if it makes my bosses uncomfortable and squirm in their eggshell world of middle
class comfort. I don't care anymore.
The kids are what matter, helping them with whatever time is left.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
You hope that university will answer all of life’s questions, but nope.
I don’t know, I.
There was a guy who’d been hanging around outside our residence lately. Too consistently. At first, I thought he was someone’s friend but he’s always alone. He wasn’t doing anything or bothering my roommates, but that asymmetry set off my alarms.
He looked at me once (which I suppose isn’t a crime), I think, it was quick - a blink of sharp curiosity. I mentioned it to Charles who took his picture. The next morning he said the guy’s a legit student who has no criminal record, so maybe I’m all wrong.
Every girl’s encountered a creep or two before. They’re seemingly everywhere, as if mandated by law, like auto insurance. Most girls develop a sixth sense, a creep-dar. Nowadays, creeps have a new name, “incel” ("involuntary celibate") and they’re a recognized, online subculture. Next, they’ll have a coat of arms proclaiming, “We Would if We Could.” It’s as if awkwardness, a normal human foible, has been distilled into something dangerous.
Although the campus looks like a garden or a perfectly manicured ‘stepford’ park, we joke that it’s really a locked-down, patrolled, surveilled compound, with guards, cameras and card-key access to everything. Which, I suppose, is all to the good.
Our creeper wasn’t there Friday, and he wasn’t there today, so maybe he was nothing.
I don’t know, 2.
I was in Sunny’s room. We were going shopping in a few. There was a little pink book on her bed - a diary!! I’d never seen it before and it was open, about three-quarters of the way. She too-casually moved to scoop it up, like the neglected book of a sorcerer.
My GOSSIP-dar Alerted like a class bell. “Hmm” I hummed, head-tilted, then I laughingly lunged for the book.
Sunny’s eyes went wide for 3-billionths of a second and she snapped it up with the speed of a striking cobra, “That’s MINE” she said, rigid with seriousness.
“What’s going ON?!” I asked, but she shoved it into her night table.
Another mystery!
‘Sleeping dogs,’ I thought to myself.
Apr 10, 2023
Apr 10, 2023 at 2:38 PM UTC
Lush neatly manicured lawns
Fence pickets in white, ornate light posts in bronze
Luxury cars and such perfect houses
Mask the evil that rouses
Behind the Stepford smiles
Flow rivers of fear and pain
Horrors, **** and violence
In their suburban domain
“In marriage there’s no such thing as ****
“I make the money, if I want *** I’ll take it!”
“I’ll end your life if you try to escape.”
“I’ll cut off your money, you’ll never make it.”
“I’ve explained to your family you’re crazy as hell.”
“You have no friends left, no one to tell.”
“It’s always your fault you make me hit you.”
“Now tell the **** doctor you just tripped on a shoe.”
“Get yourself tested I brought home the clap.”
“You’re lucky to have me, I’m the real catch.”
“Keep eyeballing me, you’ll get a fresh slap.”
“Stop crying your eyes out, it’s just a rough patch.”
“I love you so much, why can’t you see?”
“This creature is something you force me to be!”
“NOW STOP YOUR WHINING AND MAKE A NEW DRINK!”
“ELSE IT’S YOUR HEAD, NOT MY GLASS, THAT SHATTERS THE SINK!”
“YOU’VE DONE IT AGAIN, AND YOU WON’T GET AWAY.”
“YOUR NIGHTMARE IS HERE, AND HE’S GOING TO STAY.”
...
“Lock the door? I’ll kick it in!”
“Fight back? I call that a win.”
“The struggle is what turns me on!”
…
The terror carries through to next dawn.
Behind the Stepford smiles
Flow rivers of fear and pain
Horrors, **** and violence
In their suburban domain
Sprinklers water the grasses
The sobering monsters cover their *****
They put on a grin and dress in fine suits
Greet peers with **** salutes
Off to work he goes to make cash
The kids trudge glumly off to school
The night before? Just a bad dream
She’s buying clothes, spending's her fuel.
Lush neatly manicured lawns
Fence pickets in white, ornate light posts in bronze
Luxury cars and such perfect houses
Mask the evil that rouses
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 10:09 PM UTC
To everyone born to this world with nothing
No social code, allowed to risk it all with no bluffing
While others get bored being handed their every desire
I spent my childhood days building dirt empires
Dreaming of the molds I was not cut out of
When I'd sit down with fellow folks talking of my aspirations
Most just laughed, brushed me off like I had no chance
So I fueled my fire with life's frustrations
My life works may never something tangible
But if you read every chapter of me, your hands would overflow
This world doesn't seem to understand my twisting mind
But at least I never looked at my dining room,
Thinking it's a great place to hang a clothes line
I'm taking jabs at my past but never dwell in that hollow home
Past these child eyes how much of me do you really know
If you were me, if you had to be, disrespectfully some say they'd **** themselves
Take that negativity and raise myself onto a higher shelf
I find my best inspiration in music and staring out at stars
one of my favorite pieces I ever wrote was just about passing cars
I'm scared that people are being cookie cut all the same
In a Stepford manner more messed up than Gerald's game
They hand you charts and define you in a statistic
Like they already threw you the ball but you missed it
I'm here to breath life into a deflated man's scene
Don't let these demons destroy your darkest dreams
Spark a light onto who you want to be
In a sea of fish, be the one swimming up stream
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 5:22 PM UTC
Playing with vengeful knives
Clone me another of the Stepford wives
Here is where you're at
Never turn your head back
You like sixes and sevens but you've never heard of fives
Come back and look forward in anger
Drive yourself sane, graceful like Jesus in a manger
Cover your footprints in the snow
Deny the sunlight because you never know
The next one could be the game changer
One-two, two-three-one
Stop acting like you're never having fun
Your charade is blown wide open
Like the suicide bomber with the missing pin
Wipe yourself up and clean every last ****** crumb
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 2:57 PM UTC
am i
physically attractive
empathetic
nurturing
intelligent
honest
ambition
hardworking
financial independent
loyal
dependable
competent
strong
tough
polite
and respectful
no
because i’m not a stepford wife
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Stepford_Wives_(1975_film)
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 10:57 PM UTC
What's in a god **** day?
Ten days ago, I was in the
backseat of
a 2008 Chrysler Minivan.
One hundred days ago,
I was stumbling and
climbing in
Burlington,
reborn.
What's in a god **** day?
What's in a god **** day?
Three hundred and sixty-five days ago, I was trapped,
homeless and loveless,
in a private, Stepford-studded
sort of way.
What's in a god **** day?
You tell me--
but I've learned that while my streets may change,
the concrete is always the same.
One thousand days ago,
I passed the baton to Richie Sullivan,
thus turning my wild,
private reality
on its dainty little head.
Five thousand days ago, I learned that
Gregory was going to New Zealand
for three hundred and sixty-five days,
give or take a few. But
what's in a god **** day?
What's in a god **** day?
Yesterday I spoke with Janina,
today I did the same,
and tomorrow I will speak with her as well.
Yesterday I did not speak with Conor McCall
or Brian Gagnon
or Julia Ginsburg
though I knew them all once.
I will not speak with them today,
or tomorrow, either.
What's in a god **** day?
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:40 AM UTC
Ever thought you had friends you'd know until you die?
I did.
I wish with all my heart that a clock could be rewound,
revisit old mistakes, erase them and rewrite.
Life isn't like that.
Life is a ***** in heat scratching away at mental scabs.
"Friends are the family we choose ourselves"
********
It's a fridge magnet quote for a reason.
~
Fickle, feckless,
Replaceable
Idiotic individuals
Endlessly
Needing a
**** hard
Slap.
* Stepford friends*.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 10:03 AM UTC
White- Eyed Alive-
do or die
piece of the pie
and the American life-
Preprogrammed responses
they all seem to do it-
a previously animated existence
we replicate
but we don't really do it-
The Stepford Wife
and Mr. Right
neither holds an interest for me-
I fit no mold
with no people of my own-
The Wanderer
Vagrant
I Am Alone
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
"Nothing is sacred" you said, ask away....
Favourite band, colour, song, film, book, poet, author,the list went on
Favourite food, soda, cocktail, ****** position, animal, vegetable, fruit, smell, season, singer, songwriter, tv show..
This endless list of inane questions, hiding the one stuck in my throat like bitter bile.
"What do you see in him?"
Thats the big money question, the answer eludes me whenever I see you together.
Maybe your dappled green sees beauty where my clear blue sees too much ego.
Maybe your heart sings when he kisses your forehead, while my lips ache for the chance.
He doesn't see you, not really, not the you that howls with laughter, head back, snorting with each inhale.
Not the you that pulls weird faces when I take serious calls.
Not the you that I wish was mine...
Only mine.
He makes you different...
Quiet, subdued, Stepford wife.
A good girl. A closed book.
Ignoring his eyes while they wander,
as you avoid the love so obviously in mine.
"Ask me anything" tripped off your tongue
While your expression and the way you shifted said
"Just don't ask me that"
Nothing is sacred.
Except you.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
He wrote of the scars he gave her
Despite the fact that they have never met
He never spoke of the scars he left on me,
Still saying that it was my fault.
The night he drunkenly kissed me and then called me her name
He never talks about that night
Just laughs it off
He drank over losing her,
He cried over her,
As he played their song on loop.
But me,
I am his dispensable second prize pony
Do you think if he knew how bad it was, he would hold me closer?
If he knew about laying on the bathroom floor,
So angry that I could not speak
So bitter that my blood turned to venom
So broken that I was not a being anymore
I could not even escape it in my sleep.
Waking up in tears
Like a soldier dreaming of the battlefield
The battlefield was inside me
My enemy,
The shadows that resembled him
There were no bombs
Just whispers that wrapped around my neck
"You.
Are.
Nothing."
He left me alone.
As I laid on that arctic bathroom floor,
He was planning a life with her
I was the suicidal skeleton in his closet
He left me alone..
At the lowest point of me
Among dreams of flights off of roofs without an umbrella
He left me alone...
Now he says that he loves me
And wants me to smile as if nothing ever happened
His second stepford wife
A little piece of me is still on that bathroom floor
Looking up at me
Like a gruesome funhouse mirror
But he doesn't see them
He doesn't want to
I want to scream,
"Look
at
them!"
Mere acknowledgement like penicillin
Antibiotics eating the gangrenous, festering wounds he left
Maybe if I looked like her,
Spoke like her
He would see
But alas, I will only ever be me...
Do you think if he knew how bad it was, he would hold me closer?
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC
____Going back
and forth >>
The dark
pool jaw shark
Darth____(War)teared
Her drink feared
The moon split
Two people
Crook/Brook-Streams
Spilled water-soul
words
the Grecian river
Thorn Rose
birds
Will I return?
Devil dug
Deep- thought
Millionaire swamps
2B streamed
Suddenly
Forestal sweetness
FLipping homes
Hopscotch jump
Flipper Gumps
Mister brook the
measles
Water spots
How her foot met
Sunny-side
Eggbeaters
Morning 2 B Sure?
Turning-star
Cornered-shore
A sure pleaser
Cheater's foot
The river of
no return
(Monroe)
She is so perpetual
returning
in his
fantasy
everything
Misery
loves cooks
Baked tan
brooks
company
Poetical downright
mystical rivers
Joan of Ark
All bricks to blow her
home down dark
He's the Adonis
Superlative
most bodeful
The bridge over
***** war of
her laundry
In Cahoots,
Tired torrential rain
Tranquil water
Streaming air
Glorious shape
Her brook
But he is
never by
her shore
Not even once
to stare or look
Water Wands
of faires
So many
***** men
Drinking the
Holiest
water
Mrs, clean
Cult life
Stepford Wifes
Her cheeks like petals
Estee Lauder eyes of
Blue velvet
Lady Brook the banks
of the channel;
No contamination
water
Channeling
Like finest truffles
By the water riffle
So Shallow
Abdominal water
Hurricane shakey
Speaking
words
of wisdom wishing well
Streams overloved
Still, Diana Wales
running reliving
Lucky charms
they're married
Orange segments
Water the juiciest
Be calm
Nick the Knickpoints
Mister and Mrs. beds
The high tide
of turbulence
Poems are
all a stream
Our oasis
Deer Creek
came to
Love her more
than he
could ever seek
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
You like to pretend you have the
"perfect stepford family"
But you don't
And it's all your fault
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
The New Future roar +
Gimme Gimme
Better salaries 2018
Hard years or light years
Galaxies
Hey 19*,20?,21$,
22 my birth number
September Saphire blue
What's true the roar-ins
The movies the cold cuts
Getting hot
Boar head bites
The crybaby nights
Roaring Twenties Flights"
It's time for the modern
"I Dare" to be on the edge
Just Dodge
Men at war draft ins
Pennies for their thoughts
Dr. Who am I drugs new
laugh-ins
She's the boredom
Monday- millenium
"Gatsby Gorilla"
Tuesday Tarrantula deadend
It been a long weekend_____
Money is the killer
Ransom not a fandom
The Samson and Delilah
"Gilmore Ladies" Halleluah
Stocked up on mercedes
Flapper dancers flipped
a coin
They marched in computer
lion
Whats in your pocket
Now Hewlett Packard
Hackers and fast and furious
snackers
(The Thirties) centuries gowns
Kitchen the wife cooks
Turkey tough food 4 the soul
Davie Bowie ground control
Bowing down "Beek Jerky"
The golf player the hole
in goofers those penny loafers
Coffee and cars comedians
"Seinfeld" is money gold
Jiffy peanut butter
Sandwiches spread with love
I love you "Mother" Miss Kleinfeld
I am getting married
Those emmy awards looking worried
What's edible Mr Hannibal
with attachmnents Mrs cannibals
The love can (B) incredible
Cornish Hens
Another day like Zen
Those Stepford wives perfect ten
Eyes of Fifty shades of poodle skirts
New Jersey housewives movie cut
Greek goddess of Ulysses lit
Greek yogurt creamy lips possess
New future what to address
Wordy so quirky time gets
spooky
Look alive get perky
The future for me is right now
Jersey strong "New Jersey"
All Excell moon solar system
The future I got the rhythm
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
He's trying to **** you
slay you
cut you down to the frayed you
wants you to be you but just not the real you
but the fake you with the plastered smile
chew up your soul and spit it out
swallow the key to your self esteem's door
take away your home
walk his walk
the walk of shame but you'll always be the one to blame
talk his talk, silver tongue
think the way he do
don't feel
don't have emotion
stepford wifey, plastic barbie
do as i say or you're ******* royally
You can't be you
Be broken with no hope of being put back together
And by the way only God can save you
And if things don't go his way look out
you'll be under his attack
under his thumb
numb
In fear,
so accept defeat on your knees
He goes for your heart and your soul
In a fight he goes for the throat
He's seeking to destroy any and all self worth
How anyone dare defy him
you're always the crazy one
no one could ever love you more
No one is better
He'll cut you down
with his narcissistic, sadistic ways
and go for your throat with words that cut
like a double edged sword
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 11:08 PM UTC
From birth, through younger years
You think adults are the best
They know it all, don’t question them
Even ones in stringy vests
But then through wide awakenings
From innocent teen eyes
Your conditioned way of thinking
Is shifting all the time
Morrison’s doors of perception
To Orwell’s “Nineteen Eighty Four”
Digesting Brown’s “Da Vinci Code”
What’s behind Dad’s study door?
I always thought there’s something
Something missing from Mum’s smile
Sincerity, yes that is it
Her sparkle’s light-yeared out for miles
I caught my College Tutor out
Her face was filled with dread
As I asked her complex questions
She rambled and went red
It’s not the work you contribute
That catapults you through
It’s who you know, not what you know
That gets you through round two
It’s realising the rich get rich
Capitalising on the poor
Mocha choco frappucinos
To Primani discount stores
It’s sweaty public transport
Followed by a gruelling shift
Evils from your sadist manager
For laughing at his quiff
Offered a promotion
Yes, they’ve recognised my worth
Then the disappointment fills the air
When they ask me to move turf
From Manchester to Liverpool
A fair distance I would say
But with two small kids and secretly
Another on the way
It’s either this or loss of job
This once was steady job
They’re packing up and moving out
To make room for some snobs
They’re all blagging it, they are
No one gets their dream come true
Kaleidoscope shapes are twisting
Now the truth is shining through
A positive is being aware
We’re all muddling through this life
From observation to motivation
I won’t become a stepford wife
I’ll make the best of this you see
I’ll make my family proud
I’ll bulldoze through eternity
Leaving my trail through the clouds
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
Help. If that is a question,
and quests are journeys from here to there and back,
again.
If and. A state of hesi oddness,
yes,
we exist in spite or spirit of
our creator, eh?
The craftsman's due.
Muzzle not the ox that treads the corn.
Pay the piper, if ye dance, ye know ye did.
No need to lie and say you know better,
you became more like yourself as you aged,
who made you be you?
Who do you think you are?
Aha, Pinocchio, Punch 'n' Judy… no, no Stepford
wife, but a reason for the wish, clown collector meet my
Curio store clown,
Kohari,
Can we handle a different true?
Kohari, looks you in the eye, a god message,
come up the ladder,
tell me no lie, or I
shall laugh out loud in your face, you don't know
squat, dung, **** brings stars to your ai
respectible eyes,
but this is the medium, the way, so to say, we came to
help
get past actual standing under knowns,
and begin walking into the rest
that remains to be known,
by those who see by faith invisible things form
into substantiated realms of sensation,
sense, common,
is felt known
--- safe here, asif
no miles to go,
this were home, and sleeping, now,
is safe.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 6:12 PM UTC