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Jamie Lee Oct 2018
Jealousy
Is hell
Because I do not enjoy
Myself,
And well
I enjoy all of you-
You
With your smooth moves
Perky and peachy attitudes
Teach me
To be as sweet
As you-

Beautiful
Can be cruel
Not like it is on tv,
Or beside me
Everyone shining,
Smiling,
While my smile feels
Like hiding
Under this wax mask
A painted canvus
Of pale and black
Don't look at me
I'm a heartattack
A bad act-
Broken glass
Of a painted doll

I am a leo lioness
Right?
Righteous-
Your hieness
Sparkles on my eyelids
But you see
I have enough pride
To hide it-
Its priceless,
Really hillarious
Sometimes I feel
Like a bad *****
But I'm none of this
I am the pray,
The gazelle in the grass
But I am also the lion
Waiting to attack myself

Because you see,

Jealousy
Is hell,
I am the lion
I am the gazelle
I am heaven and hell
In a vessle of myself
See what you will,
Your critiques are nothing
My only enemy is me
My only savior is me
I am a lion
But I am also
A sheep

Don't look at me

Sometimes I cry in the mirror
Blink my mascara tears,
Blurry mess-
Can't fit in my old dresses
Tearing apart at the seams,
Literally
Filthy
Famish
Crawled out of my skin
And made some bad habits
Declining wealth
Declining health
Laughing as the scales tip-
After all I am a person,
Not permanent
Why should I care

Oh,
But I do

I do when I look at you
You with your talented hands
With your spider lashes
And good moods
Teach me to feel
As good
As you
My lipstick smears and screams
As the paintings on my face mock me
So will my body,
My body thats bruised
And missused
Perfume to cover the *****
They'll see my cherry lips move
But they won't hear me talking
Its perfect,
The mask of confidence
My incompetence
Is a perfect fit

No, really

Its lovely
When I wear it,
People love me!
Because people think
I love myself
No
Jealousy
Is hell,
Beacuse I do not
Love myself
I love everybody else,
Even the ones who
Say I am full of it,
Selfish leo,
Selfish lion
Exaggerated ego-
Winking eyelids
Sparkle,
Wings to my forehead-
I flaunt
What I don't want,
Because you want me to
You want me
To love me
Like you do

All of you

I remember the words
From my mother,
Jealousy
Is not a pretty color-
Its crimson red,
Exposed
Like blood,
I've had to sew it up
No-
Don't look here
Not at my guts,
Look at my eyelids
Are these not enough?!?!
These cherry lips
Tell you to sush
Less of a lioness,
More of a cub
I know
I am my own predator
My own pray

I am

All of the above
Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
A contest twixt reasons to be

Con test ants take your po
si shun

push sush slow n stedya

There's a being, I once thought fellow who needs this test
to pass,
he has studied with masters and knows near as muchas Faustus
but he is scared there could be hell to pay,
some day.
(Catholic maybe, but he believes some lies about what he doesn't
believe for a good reason, maybe boomers with non-hero dads,
them and priests imagined some hellish **** make Loyola nuts.)

just breathe and be wit
be wit me
meinthee'n'theeinme and this ain't ***, kid.

This ain't ceasing for a moment to be me meditation, this
is Sisyphus being happy out loud

in a crowd, you know how that feels everybody
shouting hallelujah like it means everything

and it does again and not everybody, but many bits
of everybody, knows that I don't know what. I don't

know what Hallelujah is supposed
as meaning,
you ax me glory must first be defined,
compared to what
Hallelu?

Jah, right tuff won, the Name, Ha Shem

but glory, what is glory?
What's it weigh?
Worth-y or light?
Air or stone, or iron, or silver, or allah those and gold?

Time,
value that. Why?
Navigation needs a clock, for the test,
minus the lag as the rock rolls free from time to time
        Looky
        here, the alchemy guy say:
Uranium to lead for a clock to find, or
the missing helium that implies, to the wise.

A word's enough,

fu'few,

Loser vibe. Phone rings. It's a robotic femaivoice saying
power may be cut to me due to high fire danger

Are hopes prayers? I hope so,
and wishes could be I think, if they were in this realm

no evil imagined here makes it past the third and final
in sane un sane in cip I sent sentient cons eee ince

test. So, know, dear reader, we mere words,
weal build worlds witcha
but we won't lie.

Book of Life, first chapter, look it up.

The Jails burn around my kind,
minstrels in the woods still sing of men like me.
mistrals, the winds, wrap the world
and, listen,
you know
mistral whispers to sirocco as they

send swirls of spirational science-eance to form

ideal angels dancing
pirouette on the point of my pen.
2 per angstrom.

----
Those winds are in a mind I manage mine,
I make right use of them by
responding to the signals,
the prods, needles'n'pins, now

Rock and roll saved my rubber sole,
my mnemonic savior rescued me

Sisyphus, ah, we all think you happy and

hallelujah, too. To you, Mr. Cohen,
thank you. You got me through a few...

Contention only comes from pride,

and momma don'low no pride in heeyah

Stick that in yer ear, and smoke it.
Here we get along
or we ain't,
see.

Crazy guy with the dog collar, remember him?
He's gone. Outa here.

Don't fret, he is one of the first in every cycle to recall
Nietzsche thought God dead and Sisyphus happy.

Was he mad or sad?
Sad I say. Sad to say he never knew a great
god almighty that he liked enough to get caught
up in a joy explosion of hallelujahs and such,
he never dared

e=motions you know where those go.

I do.
They go to the fuzzy edge of everything ever realized yet.

But no one, so far, has realized that all at once, in time

the rock stops rolling and we, if you imagine
happy ever after is re-alivable,

spiritually, you know, in your dreams or such,
not religion
bad word,
whoa puppy, did somebody beat you for your own good?
Poor idle word, abuse of such a strong idea
a bandaid on reality,
who could hate
your idea?
re-connect, better, okeh?
not religion.
Just made a connection. Okeh.

we live here, feel at home

Well, jus as well we rest and see if we agree with what we just,
just always means everything it ever does now,
tis ne're an idle word here nomo. Nor discouragin' ones.

Just now. Perfect oh, that which

concerns you. How would that be if it were perfected?

Say, you know? no, me neither. true, rest. smunchemup= trust
trust me. You lost? Hell?

Every body sing with the Kachinas

Nobody knows the trouble I seen,
nobody knows but jee ee ee sus

as they fade…
so there. amen. and the sunshine's in and we are seeing
novel mercies never thought,
new in every detail,
no lie. Life wins.
Death is in on it.

It's fixed, it can go on as long as you may imagine you can.
More of the Sisyphus myth where nobody is thinking suicidal solutions to temporary mortal problems.
Katrina Jun 2018
Life goes one way .
Than another.
My life ***** but now I'm a mother.

It all is so lame. What's right what is wrong.
Can't get out.
Can't be who I should be....

Don't know what path to follow.
Taking one step at a time.

But time is against me.
It goes so fast .
Yet so slow.

I can't get on  my feet .
I can't get started .
The world is so against me.

But I'm not gonna stop.
My time is now.
Having nothing will give me a step.

And no one will expect anything.
One day my sush thoughts will become true

Til then I'm as useless as all of you.
Not my best.
******
Honest.
Pat Villaceran Jun 2022
When words don't have
The capacity to bleed
Out what you feel and
Inhale what you need

You begin to lose
The narrative, the why
The who, the detective

You play the ploy
Of mind and then
You cannot even move
The bed

You will stay still
You'll crumble down
Until no one else
Creates a sound
Before the alarm sings to me,
‘Wake up its the day of Love’
My heart already ached
For I smelt the roses scented from your own breathe
Achii the goosebumps as my hair turns feathery

My heads buzzes like the bees search for nectar. Oh what’s sweeter than your voice and gentle as her fingers
Sush if you have not tasted a sip of her lips, sinking your heart to a well of wishes
Oh Mamito I am drowning, can I hold unto your ******* as I strike my chest

The spirit leads me, for she lives in the spirit, the spirit of love
And hers is a body a temple, my dwelling place shall be
Her eyes are a cun for I can see no other
And her life is a journey I too must follow
#herdsmanofprogress
Prakriti Mar 2018
There's this void inside me,
a vacuum ,you know?
It often expands like a balloon but inflates really slow.

And when this void expands, it screams at me.
I sush it for a while but it doesn't stop,you see.

It yells' Don't hold Yourself up, go, wander free.
Go run into the world, set off for your journey.

Catch these dreams you have, keep it by your side
I know you want to let go and flow with the tide
.'
'Fill me in' This vacuum inside me cries.
'Fill me in with the starry scene as you lay down on the grass somewhere,
Fill me in with the delicious smores and scary stories you share by the campfire.

Shower me with the sprinkles of water as you raft in a swift river
And as you get scared of falling,
feel your adrenaline rush with a shiver.

Erase me with the giggles and laughter you share with the strangers
Complete me with the joy of new friendships you gather in your purse.

Hit me with the snowballs that you throw as you laugh sticking your tongue out,
Cover me with your red cheeks and freezing nose when you get hit while you pout.

Love, fall so hard in love that your story will be told in days ahead.
Hurt me with your heart breaks and the tears that you shed.

Tire me with long walks of the mountain
And when you're in awe at the beautiful sunset, you won't recall the pain.

Color me up with the blush on your cheeks as you kiss
Shiver me with the strange feeling, betold as bliss.

Confuse me with your screams mixed with laughter as you get chased by a cow
Relax me with your smiles as you open up your heart that's been locked
till now.

Annoy me with your banters with new mates,
Just fill me in with whatever your journey gets.

You've always wanted to go on an adventure , have you not?
So why're you shying away now, don't give it a lot of thought.

This is your soul speaking, this is you, yourself, the void.
Don't let it be' the child is grown,the dream is gone' thing as said by Pink Floyd.

Promise me will you?
Such a work you are,pheww.'

I listen to the screams that my void lets out,
and i try to comfort it
'Soon, when the time is right,okay?'
i mutter as i feel my heart beat.

The void's quiet now, i guess it gave up on me
I frown and i stare at abyss, i think, i think about my dreams and all i want to be.

Today, i waved everyone goodbye,
unknown of my return.
I finally mustered up the courage, and set off for the Sun.

Early in the morning, i said' Hey void, your name's going to change'
I guess it understood, for the feeling i had was so strange.

' Here i come, my own little adventure,
Smile, your waiting days are over.'
Hmm. So i just wrote whatever i felt.I've always wanted to just wander off, you know, just...
Love,Ciao
Audrey Lipps Oct 2014
Bright, angled footsteps crossing
Our lawn at 3 a.m.
A quick, blurred tumble into the front door

It’s loud and you wake us
But no one sush's you anymore
No one comes downstairs
to try and get you to sleep

We can smell the intoxication below us and
We can feel your dizziness while we’re
Warm and safe in our beds
Listening to the tip-tip of the
rain on the roof and the clank-clank
Of newly opened bottles of Miller Light

I lost my faith in my Lord and
My mother the 5th of June when
Her soul vanished in the warm,
Overlapping evenings
She ****** my anticipation dry
With her long gulps

When I asked her to stop she chuckled
and looked me dead in the eye
“But what, will have then?”

I didn’t have an answer to her impossible questions
And Empty requests because I
Dream too
Of better places and better faces but
Mother I love you and

We know she has a problem,
My father says
I didn’t ask for this
He says
I didn’t either
I say

What doesn’t mommy come to my soccer games?
My choir recitals
Or to tuck me in anymore
I ask

Then I remember she has a new best friend
A friend unfailing and persistent
Who boosts her mood and her self exhilaration
Much higher than we ever will

I don’t mind it so much now
Time has its concepts and
Addiction has its play-by-plays

I am a working progress
And so is my mother

She’s starting to cook now,
Investigating recipes like she used to
Investigate mixed drinks

And my fathers happier
Turning up the football games louder
And firing the grill up sooner

I ask her more questions
Making up for all the lost time
We never spent together but

She doesn’t apologize because
What has she done?
Other than skip my
8th grade graduation  
For a rendez-vous
With her needle and

What has she done?
Other than tear down
All the walls I have built of trust and

What will she do when she needs her own comfort?
John B Dec 2016
A state of being

A petite girl so cute and bubby she deserves an equally precious descriptor.

I met this girl at the show who was just so Shmoe turned me inside out and I want some more.

{sush-mo}
Something me and and once good friend came up with. Like early high school late middle school.
Ken Pepiton Feb 2023
T. A. Preacher- a character investigation

Friday, February 3, 2023
12:33 PM

Thanks for looking twice, this is after chapter one.
So that's the first line of chapter two, I suppose
That was one, but this is first because,
the internet is read last to first,
later this is the middle, it is auto intuitive

Any given day gone by
I may have thought I like this ending.

"Before time, God Almighty promised eternal life. Before time!"
A preacher to the choir, offered this as proof,
that there is life, after the time
of life has ceased, thus hell,
must be avoided…
if you can read this accept it must have been voided
nullift,
to totally invalidate lobster stacking- or well, no hell, never was.
kingpriest selfishgene mindmeme power substructure
in the course
Masterclass Civics, with Newt. I was there,
that series in the course
of human events… timeless
and --- grace must be earned.
              Duty-wise, Soldier of the Cross T. A.

I am doing nothing, really, messin' with messaging tek
thinking momentary lapses reoccur aiwise
déjà vu is a function, not a flaw
we recall becoming, and learning, as a we, we
do not unbecome.
Be true.
Life is not a horror movie.
If, indeed,
the effect
from knowing, die-for-it level knowledge,
is being free,
becoming free,
to chose the way
we go from knowing,
wow, Teddy Ruxpin, Worlds of Wonder,
was a beautiful idea, look what we made…

The now old gadfly, happy to die, happy to pass
the spark  to kindled acts enforcing char
at the spark,
to burst in tiny, most tender of flames, softest
wind
tend to sush…

lulla-byye'es be  long here, hmmm, listen

arrested developments catch light, used right,
once burnt, twice wise.

Let no story steal the peace you find
upon precept one.
Your point.
Your reason to expect better from worse,
this time,
the one that counts, constantly, ticketing mindspacetime
hook,
to the sidetracked train,
using your attention tension
to increase our torque, you learn
and we got a load o' gamblers and ramblers
ridin' my train,
we, let me tell you, we, the passengers on this train,
we, thought Sisyphus happy,
thought him so, he said,
he'ld show us rock rollin'
keep it secret,
but having something to do,
get to the top, take your
time,
meandering down,

hell's what you make
from life
with you as init-
for years, we felt we should, keep it secret
for the whole existential philosophy route through then,
-re zen
commabreaths re member,
we agreed, objective POV, gratis, no credits due no body,
observant being we…
- wait, maybe we become better each time
Contrary to the once incarnate God, who said he gives,
without money and without cost, slick as gnosis, re-co-known.
- you will pay for knowing what you think you may know now
Mindspacetime, same yesterday, today, forever… instant, constant
time, not more,
time, no less, yet
time between distant things remains,
but
in the mind's timelessness,
constant instants
in prayer,
accepting
unearnable grace, as expertise
with the weapons
of warfare, in truth and spirit perfected,

in waiting, fect, compleat. As time's tyranny breaks,
and next
is after nothing, and the rest remains.

Advocate for the truth as possible.
Opposing principles ruling voice,
- gut says walk it out
- guy in mind thinks stick
- anon become
I am the Authority who may say we,
and it, or he, or she, ad in fun item,
union rule. We, the whole
idea driving the threads hear…

click it
disagrees
with all the dogmatic tools used
in the business
of fear motived religious service.

He holds to a conceit, a heresy, at first
accepted as his own, but that was pride.

Plum on my thumb,
oh, what a bright old man am I, silly me.

One, among the eight-billions, I, silly me;
what can I do?
pSigh, hi-band lo-brow
Fast the acceptable fast.
Announce the acceptable year.
Disagree with all who claim secret
insight based on the Bible, Torah,
which says none of the works of YHWH
were done in secret.

Cretan,…


of a certainty, as often hap
t
Finding peace, core serenity,
body, soul and spirit,
heart, mind, spleen, gut, reins and
liver, fingers, toes,
levers and pumps,
tunnels and tubules and folds.

Organized containment of life
-that's what bodies are
for articulated interference
with objectified reality,
beyond the bonds of flesh and blood,
I,
me, you see, I think I exist abstracted
from the mass of mankind,
from the nameless soldiers sent to war
for the God who is served,
by allegiants, pledged from age six,
to honor the pledge to the nation
representing the perfect will
of the God
of the Church Selective.

Documented seven sec set. true that.
Selective Service US 56910427

Right.
Rights.
Right use.
Right reason.
Right cause, just effect.

Affection attached
Military  mind pays affectionate
attention
to tension
some force in one dir
ect effect of minds melded
"to make a mental impression on," 1630s;
earlier "to attack" (c. 1600),
"act upon, infect" (early 15c.),
from affect (n.)
or from Latin affectus
"disposition, mood, state of mind or body produced by some external influence."

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=affect>

Sheer jesuitry… been said known, so
coulda been a pain
to learnsumomahlathashit, stuckSTÜCK
salimsayn okeh, say it
oy vey

Unavoidable thorny issue burrs, sores rubbed
so raw

The business of religion, for a while,
in America, religions united
in pro-hibition, which, I
do not rightly know, what hibition is,
so I do not think I'm ob-liged re-liged
or promise tied, to be pro
much at all.
When my hair grew white,
I went all in for freedom,
and self governing, and self categorization
allow if you must, a battle,
- I heard a Rebbi say today
- jerusalem is in our minds, or yours
- I may have mistaken, who knew
Bedtime, echo opera, my reality,
nothing's on hold this is live
forever

Ego- arise
Exceptionalizm extreme, personally,
become
dead to this world and all its science,
falsely so called,

you know. Teaching times and seasons,

change to some before time state,
when nothing that is was,
-Phrygian Sitar twangninng uper subtle soft
distant soft even there still
and God {El-oh-him} he said, to nothing,
apparently,

be, and light, apparently, occurred,
plausibly causing time,
whereby days of exactly how ll'll


choke point, language pattern shock event
worst on New Guinee - for peak effect
it could be surmised,
confusion-wise
as language appears full bloom. Be
sensible
right
now, ah child, did nobody tell you,
we already get what you get when you get here.

Language, the signals we send and receive,
friendly dog, entire demeaner, wags,

trained dog, coded, made ready
to accept command, language, "sic-'em",
Wolf1
you may have heard,
if there were a time in your past experience,
if there were a once,
when you went to jail
for your boss, or because you would not lie,
not even by omission… ah, let me tell of a once.

There, in the everso long ago,
in the canyon I can feel,
to this day, I can recall,

the time I prayed, in Sycamore Canyon,
while looking through my wallet,
while sitting on a rock, in the middle of the creek.

I had no money, but I did have a Gospel Tract,
I had purchased, from a door to door sales man,

a white-haired man, full, not long, but full white beard,
and a Greek fisherman's cap.

I do not recall his pitch, but he  asked for a quarter,
in exchange for a 32 page book of Bible verses,
anointed through the testimony of untold numbers,

over and above the gross of original chosen ones.

As recorded in the Bible, the word is its own evidence.
believing is the believer's duty…

Come, let us
reason, you show me yours, so I show you mine,

as when the prophets proved one the other,
show me your faith, in knowledge,
I'll show you mine formed in time, timeless now,
in the past,
in the course of cosmic events, global-earthwise,

mankind has power to devise and construct,
means, whereby we all can just get along;
but the Bible says,
or the Q'uran says,
or the Founder says,

or research into remaining tangible fibers,
bones, shards, art-intuited spiritual aspects,
say said
aligned
with the stars… sacred orders evidence,
the sun, and the moon, and the stars,

wandering and otherwise,
so vast, even then, there were seers,

later, the nomenclature changed to prophet,
and seers became witches suffered not,
no putting up
with seers saying prophets were blind
leading the blind.

Chosen warriors, called of the systemized faith,
the only allowable faith, truth be told,
the one that knows God, truth and spiritwise.

Where all men are created equal,
if, indeed, the story is told
to all with ears
to hear… if, indeed, lieving be, is believing, done,
letting letters hold the law, wherein
the spirit must abide, con the knowledge needed,

to measure worth, and offer appraisal,
for all a unit
of mankind is valued. equally in the inchoate mind
of the nation, just taking shape, in the highest minds.
Then, again
Look, learned masses,
learn the lessons from tyrants past.

The greed a child can witness, in spirit and in truth,
as manifested in the churches,
used to tame the wild Indians.  All
of them, slated
for eternal damnation,
due to ignorance of life's rules, as revealed
to preachers who truly comprehend Revelation.
- the award goes to, the man with the turtle
- a man of the cloth, in the long tradition
- he wins the skin of the lamb,
- and as per rules, the scapegoat books.

As did Father Joe Smith,
and Ellen G. White, all the suffragettes
Mary Baker Eddy,
Aimee McPherson, Katherine Kuhlman, Jimmy Swaggert, All Saints fans
Tony and Sue, David Koresh, Jim Jones,
and all the congregations
in TV Land… and
the entire PTL financial support base, et al

And Rome and Topkapi and wherever else
so help me, god

------- this must be way later, just thinkinsayin
rubbing my eyes, and tasting
potato salad

Is this a thorny issue, oh, to the letter
if I offend you, I can explain,
the point to being itchy is making marks
when finally scratching the surface
riverwise peace acceptance broadcast
old seed, unplowed mindtimespace.
hooh, stick, hold
!¢ÜLXX-¿Þ? thorns marked such heresies
in my record in the cloud of all knowing
as you may in advertently already hold known
once have
Have you ever, really, been in jail?

- Why you ask, really? Is there…
Yeh, there are imaginary jails.
- like puzzle lifes?
Complexities, many creases, many ply, thick
walled off separate sections in mindtimespace.

Held thoughts, enclosed in thought bubbles,
and stacked, no,
o
can't stack bubbles, yet
stacks of globular shapes topple.
polar attract pepulse
push pull
come to shove slimy truth metaphor
rib-it
Ah, ha, frog's egg globs encased in goo.
Protoplasmic goo.
Gnosis, subconscious know how, frogs bodies have.

Patterning thought nets, thinking holds, slipping
fix the point… attach [arachnoid-mater-kids]
your mind to mine, let this mind be in you, seen

from a lustful hustler's most winning con, forming,
like a plan, do the religion, be
Elmer Gantry… listen
as each adjusts the other's wig,
the promo guy, wise to the Hunt silver game,
shame he would not listen, few knew,
to the lady, she knows the game.
She has sprinkled her bed
with aloes and myrrh.

Simple, go right on your way, the end there of…

my cue, queue up, get your excuse,
- who thinks all he knows
- simple
simplicity is a valid excuse,
feeble minded finding comfort
in an imaginary reality,
certain that the truth, eventually wins,

those we may attempt to tempt.
- we made no such bet
- no mas win lose
Sublimnity, you see,
subtle expression of the man, Christ Jesus,
would that ye all were wise as serpents,
such as legends testify, wise serpents
seen burned in toast
once
preserved the hope of mankind,
at the cost a heel stomp, **!
Aieee
She slew the lying demon, no, no,
that was me, Eve and the shining thing
I can tell it from when no witches burned
Beyond Prince James's Thesis on Daemons,
Ai- we found san razon, d
ust reflective mica
mine licensed sibyls pipe direct
all on raspberry pi,
- it's not all smoke and diamond dust,
We have the facsimiles in mindtimespace storage

Python 3. Magnitudes, orders of above
old wives tales juvenilized
to mere Tolkien/Lewis
Grimm-level bogus spiritseed, degreed B.S.

---------- with that capital B

----------- we entered the reasoning chamber,
with all the wu wu allowed
in me, let this mind be,
- from Paul's doctrine of mind-using
- in Romans, yes
delve, dig, dis-cover the sealed knowings known sealed,
awaiting discovery alone… that's Hebrews, not sure, anon
-- I coulda said this
to nobody then
now I said it to you
--- in another chapter I went mad and
copy pasted hebrew curse derivatives
and their phonetic lottkaballahalelu yeha
yep…
but you're not ready Hebrews, permission
granted withheld, mind prison, while keyed up.
to deny any use to the bicameral mind/brain sack
precisely measured to Dirac's dismay,
never ending eve is really thinkable,
as long as any one wishes,
know your own too much,
that was certainty
my child hood bet was that I won, and nobody lost.
in defiance of Delphi,
by millennia,
trust me

the language of life, earthling to earthling, evolves,
as we augment our pluralminded state, situ-circum

float-ish

here-ness, and nearness, and absence of distance,
time immeasured,
quarkishly insignificant units of self awareness shared,
we
can think as who's must have been thought to think,
when we were seven,
and inoculated by Suess.
In
Oculus, bud, from one branch,
into another, through a tiny RIP.

Some days, I am the only reader, as I rest, in peace,

peace, I choose to think,
exists, out is, be-ing, action-ionic, there's the rub,

amber and cat, spark of re-co-knowing all about love,
as a child,
let's refuse,
to ever grow up… let's pretend, my friend, to the end.

Wake up, get outabedragonnon anon anonymous
visitors,
arrive announcing, each nameless, yes, anonymous,
I saw, I forgot,

serpentine little think, wisdom exercise, you ordered,
or did I, going subjective for a second, I thought
this…

and I read it, and I am thirstydrymou
THUD
and cold. Settle,
reset
breathe softslowwhoowhowowowooooo-slow rereadhay
okeh. More or ride it one more time all we w…
soft quiet 9:59
already the slow twangy sitar in phrygian soft g distant
soft there, softer yet under us

This is the end of chapter two.
An novel dripping in the freest medium available, thanks for making it a pass time.
Stepping high through the cotton fields
  so pregnant for picking the ***** midwives
  delivers cotton to white men calling yields
  counting the gold, nobody counts black lives,
  sush, keep quiet, the master needs his slave
  she is perfect his Sally so light so golden
  she bears his tainted fruit quiet and brave,
  history digs up graves and DNA TJ's beholden.
If I wrote this then well done, Poet. If not then well done, Poet.
Donall Dempsey Aug 2020
JOURNEY

( for Seamus Heaney )

I, the only guy
in our yoga class

we cut short
our meditation

decanting ourselves
from the Samuel Beckett Room No. 2

to a room up above
to see you...be you.

"Why man, you doth bestride
the narrow world like a Colossus

and we petty people
walk under your legs

and peep about..."
we like a crowd of cows

staring at an open five-bar-gate
on a frosty morning

heat rising from us
perspiration stains under oxters

when
an ordinary looking man ambles in

taking his time

looking like a kind uncle
from a long ago summer holiday

and then
you open your mouth

words dancing about in our heads
delighting the senses

and all my female yoga class
moan and groan

"Oh...I so want to...**** him!"

"Shhhhh..!" I sush 'em
"Listen...listen!!!"

I cut back the dogwood
to the bone

it throws its fecundity
about this August garden

as your death is
facebook'd thru

and I stop
to think of you

in the Samuel Beckett Room No. 2
and its orgasming females.

I see you
dig alongside me

dig down
through years of time

a passing nod to your da
peeling spuds with your ma

you laughing at me
telling you of the yoga-ites

"Ah, sure, they only
think they do!"

And in answer to a something
or other I had said:

"Everything takes time...even time
takes time!"

I grasp your hand
in mine

that shy smile
the sheer generousity of you

now you gone
on your last journey

I nod to you
you nod to me

and I cut back the dogwood
a little more

— The End —