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Spenser Bennett Sep 2016
Ain't no justice in money,
ain't no freedom in running,
painted streets with blood; stunning,
distracted populace with scumming,
hands up,
don't matter,
lead humming,
ain't no home left to be coming,
ain't no justice in money,
ain't no lives matter,
not to the people in charge of the chatter,
the talking head,
walking dead,
brain splattered,
All I hear is stifled laughter,

Oddities and odysseys,
life in the hottest seas,
that's what we gonna see,
not just you and me but our families, sisters, mothers, fathers,  sons, daughters,
cannot live if the sun blisters tomorrow and it runneth over.

I feel drunk but I know I'm sober,
no drinks for the son of man,
not til he older,
wiser,
speak a bit bolder,
kinder,
kind words,
to be issued to say that we miss you,
and I should kissed you; goodbye,
but now I got no time.

Always in new ties but old suits,
like trees barking for new roots,
and leaves darkened for Fall blues,
like hard news,
like black versus black versus white versus blues versus us versus you toos, ain't no mistaking the voiceless,
choiceless.

Most broke destroyed **** for misclaiming no justice,
we shouldn't hush this,
we need this to bust it,
or we end up busking,
do you understand what I'm busting?

Ain't no difference between us and kings,
so why we let them speak to us like just things,
a means to their ends but that means an end to us.

freedom don't ring,
ain't no freedom in running,
ain't no justice in money,
only justice in one thing,
and that's the spirit,
all consuming,
and trusting.

so let that spirit sing,
let it take you over,

Let the voice of the Lord and the father fill you until love runneth over.

Our mothers will be raised up,
praised up,
and through them we can face em,
find strength to save em,
and save us.
Nigel Finn Dec 2015
I can fall in love with your words,
Without ever meeting the person behind them.
I could be infatuated by what you have to say,
Without ever hearing a moments speech from your lips,
Feel touched without the need for physical embrace,
Because every emotion shared is a kind of kiss.

It's certainly not romantical (although it offers no barriers to such),
No, this is something far more real,
Transcending the animal need for the flesh to intertwine,
So much more than the roundabout hellos and goodbyes,
Beating even the are you OKs and I feel that way toos.

It's the simple "I am here. This is me."
So glorious in its simplicity that it could break a heart,
Or mend it, depending on the reciever,
Although I suppose the point is there is no reciever,
Like the triumphant cry of the lone mountaineer,
Or the screams of a mother who's lost her child,
Only far more composed in their release.

I sometimes feel like I'm reading words not meant for my eyes,
(And, in a sense, I suppose they're not).
They are far more beautiful than words that need to be read,
These are words that were meant to be written.

I find myself hating humanity to its very core,
Although each individual has traits I love endearingly-
Every last one- (even ****** created works of beauty),
But you, who have encapsulated a piece of divinity,
Within such common things as words - I love you more.
An open thank you note to every storyteller, past, present, and future, who has, and will have made me laugh, cry, get angry, calm down, and feel a whole plethora of emotions with the simplistic beauty of their words.
Michael W Noland Jan 2013
He screamed
From what he couldn't see
He screamed
Through the in betweens
And screamed
Of all the things
He never had

Never chanced
For more

Never stood
For more

Than he could afford

A man it is
A mantis
Atlantis in a war
Of sees
Sinking
Quietly
To piece
es

Predictable

Board

Fishing
For
The rewards
Of discord

His apple rotten
To the core

Crying
For
A *****
Amidst the horror
In the store
Of euphoria

In delirium

In the serum
That nearly killed him

Magnificent
Is the malignants
Of his presence
When rejected
From the projections
Of nervous lessons
lessening
The blemishes
Of the beautiful

Reluctant
And dutiful

He paints the faces
With razorblades
And shame
Carving plates
From skin
The sin
Is only in the flesh

Cut the cancer

Win the contest
Of contested
Blessings

Bleeding
From the lips
Of kids

Victim
To the blips
From beyond
The calling
Of calmly talking toos

Three cubes
To clueless

He knew this

As a dream
Within a dream
And construed it
Through another stream

Beaming
The misleading
Lights astray

He was dead
And seething
Perpetually
Grieving
But he likes
To play

I boxed him up
But
I will show you
Someday
Maybe sunday

Okay
TIM ANDREWS Sep 2019
It is too late to ask me why,
It is too late to say I lied,
It is too late for me to run,
It is too late to blame my mum.

It is too early to say goodbye,
It is too early for me to die,
It is too early in the day,
It is too early for me to say.

It is too hard to explain,
It is too hard to take the blame,
It is too hard for me to cry,
It is too hard for me to try.

It is too easy to run away,
It is too easy for you to stay,
It is too easy to point at me,
It is too easy for me to see.

It is too late,
It is too early,
It is too hard,
It is too easy.

Two toos are two not four,
Four toos are four not eight,
You see, it’s not easy,
It’s just too late.
2019
alex Oct 2017
can you imagine the airwaves
skeleton wires
ghosts that say hello
say goodbye
can you imagine the tree branches
spider legs
bees that buzz about
buzz inside
can you imagine the grief
you lose your muse
get blues
lose your i-love-you-toos
if they’re gone.
can you imagine what that would mean.
the words whispered
through telephone lines
can you imagine the airwaves
skeleton wires
ghosts that don’t say much
anymore
at all?
if you were a ghost, i know you'd haunt me. god, i wish you'd haunt me.
aura Jan 2019
picked up the phone after one too many years
after "i'll do it later," and never "now."

missed hellos, goodbyes, how are yous,
i love yous and me toos.

wished i got another chance to dial your tone
to tell you everything i always meant to.
call your mom.
Ken Pepiton Apr 2022
Upright, bipedal, con-fi, see, come saw
I saw thee under the mulberry tree,
when the wind stirred
the upper branchings
one who strives with truth in life's wild way,
rests - while watching, waiting for next
if I may, the past-tenseness of guiled, is guilt.
Hold no shame, having to do, and suffering so
painless, once used, patience always workd.
No guile, we waited for the point to go. Dotdotdot
-speak of that daemon and who should appear,
the daysman on duty, Mercutio's nearkin,
- was he one told to come and see?
a stranger in whom is no trick,
a confident man, selling his wares, for worth
to the buyer made ware by chance, lost in thought.

Something seems off when a person
knows with whom he agrees,
but I do not, ah, poorer in knowledge accrual, am I

So I, learn if I am as well agreeable,
does this trek into familiar detail seem allusive,
or useful, universal,
state of un-been-guiled, once too many times.
Bogus Science, and Ponzi Economics,
we climbed the dung hill, and found it comfy, warm.
- some sense from bovine ilk, Rumi-nated
- clover over rye, a pre-ference, cud-wise.
- The after taste, time to think,
- why do we use so many nursing cattle?
- What have we become, now that we can
- drink dead milk.
-back to the quest for a we for today-

Frankfurt determines that ******* is speech intended to persuade without regard for truth. The liar cares about the truth and attempts to hide it; the bullshitter doesn't care if what they say is true or false, but cares only whether the listener is persuaded.[1]

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_Bullshit>

Where I was reared, nobody tells you
of a tattoo
on their back,
beneath covering clothes.
- but now, the layer of cool, coming on
- after all psy-sci-psi sense converged
Some folks do, for some unspoken reason,
- see, I wish you could see raw me, the art.
- forcing me to keep this skin.
- Possesion first, first right to claim, I know.
- BTDT- an imp experiencing samsara for me.
now, where were we, like like likest…
A person is presenting purpose,
proposing we have lost our links
to recovered tattoos - meaning hidden
not on your face, intending to make you see
Salience, a leaping roe, perhaps, saying see me,
perhaps saying I can leap the hedge row,
or it seems
so so salient, as if coming to attention,
tuned to the whole, boom
- lackachuma-fuma
salience the word is said again, by the fellow
with the deeply meaningful ta-toos
- a silly syllable enabling- bling
to which my attention attracts, salience
catches my at- tension, hooks me,
pulls me in, gnosis whispers know me,
deceive your grip,
accept my hand co-mand-astory manual labor,
I snap my fingers, we
receive my salient happenstance

fool me once, sell me an invisible tattoo,

a tool used to mean something,
meaning- full fashion affectations,
- as when a law is fulfilled -
put it there, where ladies show their spots.

Imagine we know it means something
distracting to the winds in- twisting my senses
sh, shush
shushing soothing, as might a 4-H kid,
nurse a stolen calf, and learn the price of knowing.
Live and learn, grands in a country school.
Everywhere is quiet.
Family is in bed,
But I can't sleep.
1 in the morning
Alone with my thoughts.
Thats when the demons come.
I dont sit in the quiet anymore.
Sound is my solitude.
Music, videogames, movies, and Youtubers.
White noise and talking to my animals.
My life isn't living.
Its a routine that I do.
I have no emotion in any of my actions.
Needs, and have toos I do.
Desires have long since departed.
Thoughts are not to be thought
but pushed deep into my forgotten memories.
Thinking is too realise
And realization is to spiral down
Down into somewhere that is hard to come back from.
My life is
Hell on Earth.
If i die, my hell will be this world.
If i die, this world will be my karma.
If i die will i even realise it?
Mol Dec 2018
But not 'I love you.'
Any three, comforting, kind
yet cruel words other than 'I love you.'
because I love you has been tainted,
tainted with the distant cries of
in love with you.
Of the connotations
and the the lack of patience
that is;
'I'm in love with you'.
'Cause I love you was no longer casual, no longer friendly nor comfortable.
I love you was filled with
'why? why? why?'
and 'why nots?'
and kisses
shhh
not kisses -
not lips,
not touch,
not soft,
no whispers.
No 'I love yous,'
no 'I love you toos,'
just 'I'm here for yous'
and 'you're important to mes.'
And the painstakingly similar;
'I need you'
'I need you too.'
But not love,
never love.
Even in the midst
of a warm embrace,
or the brush of a hand upon a face -
no I love yous could be found in this place,
Not here.
Just confusion,
uncertainty, and fear
Bo Tansky Dec 2021
so to you too
always you too
too, too, too, too
too many twos
what about duets
and too toos
i stray
not like that brat
Slide one
how to get to you
never was a way
there was
of this i was sure
could i find
an open door
whats behind the green door
i get it
you didn't want to go for a ride
around the block
was all i asked
and whats behind
whats behind
behind that
i,m such a nut
tracing you back
to before
you were you
Dead Wood
be a friend to you
if only i could
***
haven't even gotten to slide two
and i'm *******
Slide Two
Tracing you back to me
Somehow I thought i could
you slammed every door in my face
what did i ever do to you
to deserve
this
how could you do this to me
Slide three
someday i'll be found
wandering aimlessly around
then i'll say
leave me alone
i'm going home
and don't want to be found
for my home is far away
and this is just a temporary stay
Slide Four
Qualyxian Quest May 2021
Grey day blues
Depression toos
      no shoes
Qualyxian Quest Feb 2020
San Juan islands
San Juan de la Cruz

My heart is in the highlands
If you snooze, you lose

First concert I ever saw
Huey Lewis and the News

Do you believe in Love?
You're makin' me believe it toos.

— The End —