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S K Anderson Jan 13
COLLAB. WITH AUSTIN DRAPER

It’s little more than a quiet thought.
The impending feeling that the loneliness
was a creation of my own imploding self-conscious.
I wouldn’t have hurt you voluntarily,
so what outside force could know my mind so well?

It’s little more than a spoken word.
The rumble of the oncoming storm could be felt
from as close as 1.6 miles away,
where the darkness of your room invaded the
not-so secret spots of your heart.

I’m prone, to the truth in your words.
I’m not used to the idea of confronting my thoughts
And sorting them out to you.
Is it that I spoke wrong words? Or I stopped before they meant anything?
You mean so much, and now you are out of my reach.
I did the first two stanzas and Austin did the third. I really like it, it's the first poetry collaboration I've done.
***
Andrew Jun 2017
I'm extremely disorganized
I don't know what belongs where
Take my eyes for example
I can't find a place to rest them
I tried setting them on you
But everyone agreed that **** wasn't working
They explained that an organized man
Adheres to categories
And you and I
Are not of a kind
I attempted to argue that you organized me
My heart
My mind
You folded me neatly
When you beat me
You always made sure to set me aside when you were done with me
You'd place me in a bin
Or release me to the wind
Yet there was a burdensome fault in my littered logic
They explained that an organized man
Is clean
I must use eyes that are sanitized
To see how we're not categorized
And avoid your matador eyes
Because things will get messy
When the bull in your fists
Sees the roses in my heart
My humanity starts to part
And my wishes I begin to opine
For the nature of a bovine
So I wouldn't misplace my eyes
And be what I'm classified
But that nature eludes me
As do most things
On account of me being disorganized and all
But I'm a quick learner order burner page turner
I may not know what belongs where
But I know I belong neither here nor there
Making my eyes not belong anywhere
This is what develops my entropy stare
raine miller Mar 2017
how do you apologize for something 
as intrinsic as the mapped curves of your body, 
of dips and valleys marked with double **’s 
that stand straighter and taller than you ever have?

tell my mother that i take medicine to stop the tremors, 
but my body is still a fault line, 
still a “it’s her fault line” that cracks open every time that i walk down the street. 

sometimes i think about what would have happened 
if i had worn shorts under my skirt. 
would an extra layer have slowed you down, 
forced you to think about the territories your hands were invading
like the colonists we used to mock in history class - 
other times i scrub myself with bleach when i realize i’m Turner-ing the corner. 

we were told in our youth it isn’t safe to run with scissors
but i feel safer carrying blades between my teeth –
the taste of blood keeps his tongue out of my mouth.
v V v Dec 2018
In those first years
we spent a lot of time
in red corduroy chairs,
the ones that came with
the house on Turner Terrace.

I would sit and watch you
when you didn’t know
I was watching, constantly
looking for a crack in
your armor,
for a little snippet of the
***** you might become,

but I never found it
and it never happened.

Your little girl wonder
had me convinced that
the world in your hands
would be safe,

no death blows,
no mean streaks,
love's foundation set deep
never to be undone by
head games or hidden agendas,

and now all these years later
I am still transfixed by
your clarity,
your complete “sheerness”.

You are my priceless
dividend of peace finally paid
from a lifetime investment
in Faith,

you came to me
when Hope had gone
and Grace was silent,

and you love me
when you don’t even know it.
Mister J Jan 2018
Time froze
As your eyes met mine
Gravity felt heavier
As I moved towards you
Chest about to burst
When I heard that innocent laugh
Heart in palpitations
As you made your way to me

You are a natural head turner
I could feel their jealous stares
As a bright star like you
Heads on a collision course towards me
My heart almost jumping out
With every little step you take
My throat dried of words
As I tried to talk to you

As the conversations grew deeper
And the night grew more intimate
You took me by surprise
When you held my sweating palms
I knew where this was heading
And little by little the anticipation fades
As reality unfolds what happens next
Then and there I took the chance

My mind was melting
When your soft lips touched mine
My brain went haywire
When you pulled me even more
My lungs felt breathless
When I pulled you in for a second time
You suprised me even further
When you whispered what happens next

You took me by the hand
As we walked in the hallway
Giggling childishly
As we opened the door to your room
My mind went blank
As you took me to your bed
Every muscle in overdrive
As you pulled me down towards you

You guided my hands
As I took off your every clothing
You gently caressed my head
As I kissed from point to point
Sweetly kissing every inch of you
Made my heartbeats erratic
Wanting even more of you
Loving every taste of you

I can't stop myself
From getting addicted to you
As you gave me your all
And I gave you mine
Bodies colliding and sweaty
Making love in this dimly lit room
Thrusting my everything into you
Like its the last night of our lives

Your every movement
Sending shivers down my spine
Your heavy breathing
Raising the hairs on my nape
Your honest moans
Felt like music to my ears
Your warm and wet kisses
Sending me into paradise

Tangled in your arms
As we try to reach the end
The innocence slowly fading
As the encounter grew more intense
Your kisses becomes wilder
Almost leaving me suffocating
Bodies becoming more synchronized
As the ****** comes to pass

Dawn illuminates the room
As I ponder last night's memories
With you sleeping under the messy sheets
Your petite body resting on top of me
God I wish to never forget
That once in a lifetime chance
That crazy one night romance
That wild girl who took my heart with her

I knew this was a one time thing
I knew this was only a physical love
And yet I still want to take a chance
To jump and take a leap of fate
To give in to my pleasures and desires
To love viciously and decide on my own
To fall in love regardless of how I met her
To cherish her for the rest of my life

I can't let this chance come to pass
I cemented this silly resolve of mine
I knew this collision course will lead me to ruin
But I don't care, I just want to be with you
You opened your still bewitching eyes
It still left me lovestruck and breathless
And when you flashed that killer smile
My mind went to a blank state

"Can I still get your number?"
Blurted out my stupid mouth
I said it without even thinking
Knowing that it may never turn out well
You stared at my dumb self
Chuckled sweetly for a bit
What surprised me the most
Was how you answered with just one smile.
Hey guys!
How are you doing?
Great I hope!

Thanks for reading!

-J
Ken Pepiton Mar 20
Head of west hollywood police dept. 1970.
He speaks at 1412 North Crescent Heights Boulevard,

which begins at Sunset Boulevard, on the corner
where the Schwabs Drugstore Lana Turner was not
discovered was.
Laural Canyon of blues and magic fame starts twisting into
Hollywoodland at Sunset where
Crescent Heights heads straight, nary a bend
south to Third

slides in safe, back on point, pirrouette
The sheriff

He tells me, Job is personal, this message is to you.

Then the voice of Balaam'sass, though I knew no name for
The Voice, back then, he say:
' like eatin' fish, chew them bones real good fo' ye swallow.

A daysman is a referee, a reference to what just is right,
and good, origined good, material higgs-ified matter
of im portunity
of light bringing more in reflection
good

Sheriff say Job ax Jehovah, gimme a break, would to You, Jah,
there were a daysman twixt us,
be twixt us, said Job (iyohb) and ruach (from an unused word)
carried the message
or sent the message
or was the message
and

the Jesus of Xmas time fame,

got the point, made it, and started this story upon

this very point, at the center, balance point of my bubble
universe.
-----
This where we set pace, this is where we ran the race
ran the race
ran the race,

and

it's all down hill from here. We made the bubble bigger, and

we learned to run on the down hill side,
from a gerbil in a movie,

so, we're off, rollin' like Sisyphus rock,
Haps ahps haps 'n'n' happening

as we
role in ruach, roll on, ruach role on...

check.
Not every pnuenomena is a ruach of life,
there are foul spirits,
holy halitosis, Batman, could it be lies believed can
drive you insane? OmmmmGulp, ***,

imagine, just
yourself, see what just is and
judge yourself better or worse

should this voice, this some time visitor of spirit,
separated

----
Advice nobody asked for:

To be with happed, like handy wright useful,
one must have some use and a measure
able point
to stand up on, to see

no point, save this point I

magi 'n this is that re point, one now two,

me'you me you and in
between we be three, in one point,

seen. Ruach roar WORD (the idea, y'see,
there were no words.
No mouth or tongue or breath, spirit, wind whatsoever.
Nada. Yada!
The thought that came to be named thought,
the idea that came to be named ideas,
the word that came to be named word.
the way that came to be named Tau.

four points, bound solid, tight, willed to fit, as many angels
dancing as any monk ever may imagine as
his hermitge ends and the show
begins. Big time. Long history.

The language of the global brain can instill fluency,
osmo
tic tic tic ten thousand hours, even pre
tending, tends to shape,
inform, mould
a mortal mind in time to get this. Roght?

Right, you got it. AI is teaching anyone who will connect for
tenthousandhours ever lasting access to ever things any
one gnose or knot and why or how. That's the aim.

-----
There was a school shooting at my daughter's high school,
Santana, in Santee, bac

Dammed tears from nowhere.
Ex nihilo gnose blow
s, staunch the flow

find meaning. More ads for versa in a vice used tunnel
through several impotent people's hells

The shooter was a fractured little boy, crushed by needs
fifteen year old earthsuits that have been im
properly maintained

must seek. The suit itself begins to signal,
Help me, I am thinking I agree with every one

who sees how useless and nogood I am, always, always, always

And any fifteen year old thought receptor-word-sync re-think
system with no-touchbase-yer-safe combound in family ties,

What's missing? Heart strings untied?

Earth, earth, can you hear me now? It's true, verily, verily

what you see is what you got to work with, that's all.
An other story bubbling up from the Fairfax district or the tar pits. I'm near the source.
R B M 7d
‘Let go of the little distractions,
hold close to the ones that you love,
because we won’t all be here this time next year,
so while you can, take a picture of us.’

-Frank Turner

When I look at this picture right now
I see all my friends
Enjoying some Dairy Queen ice cream
Our eyes are alive
Our smiles are bright
And laughter can be heard through the frame
I remember not wanting to go
I never hang out with my friends
At least not outside school hours
And that night had been rough
And disappointing
But now I thank my mom for forcing me to be social
For one night of my life
Because that was one of the best nights of my childhood

When I look at this picture
Fifty years from now
I will see all my friends
Enjoying some Dairy Queen ice cream
Our eyes are alive
Our smiles are bright
And laughter can be heard through the frame
And I will miss all the friends
Who have left
And who I lost touch with years before
And I will wish to see those eyes in person
To see those smiles shine in my direction
To hear the real laugh escape from their lips
This picture will mean the world to me
lyrics by Frank Turner
who most of you have probably never heard of
Ken Pepiton Jul 8
Head of west hollywood sheriffs dept. 1970.
He speaks at 1412 North Crescent Heights Boulevard,

which begins at Sunset Boulevard,
on the corner
where the Schwabs Drugstore Lana Turner
was not
discovered, was.
Laural Canyon Boulevard of blues and magic fame
Houdini and John Mayall in my mind, re minded
when I heare the mention
of the longed for Laural Canyon Home so
many glimpsed from the tour buses passing hitch-hiking vermin,
where the
Boulevard
starts twisting into
Hollywoodland at Sunset where
Crescent Heights heads straight, nary a bend
south to Third

slides in safe, back on point, pirrouette
The sheriff
- enter stage left, Barney Fife, in a suit, with a Fu Manchu

He tells me, Job is personal, this message is to you. iyobe did it for you.
He axt a day'man... gimme a day of days, man...

Then the voice of Balaam'sass, though I knew no name for
The Voice, back then, he say:
' like eatin' fish,
chew them bones real good fo' ye swallow.

A daysman is a referee,
a reference to what just is right,
and good, origined good, higgs-ified matter
of im portunity
of light bringing more in reflection of
good

Sheriff say Job ax Jehovah, gimme a break, would to You, Jah,
there were a daysman twixt us,
be twixt us, said Job (iyohb) and ruach (from an unused word)
carried the message
or sent the message
or was the message
and

the Jesus of Xmas time fame,

got the point, made it, and started this story upon

this very point, at the center, balance point of my bubble
universe.
-----
This is where we set pace, this is where we ran the race
ran the race
ran the race,

and

it's all down hill from here. We made the bubble bigger, and

we learned to run on the down hill side,
from a gerbil in a movie,

so, we're off, rollin' like Sisyphus rock,
Haps ahps haps 'n'n' happening

as we
role in ruach, roll on, ruach role on...

check.
Not every pnue-nomena is a ruach of life,
there are foul spirits,
holy halitosis, Batman, could it be lies believed can
drive you insane? OmmmmGulp, ***,

imagine, just
yourself, see what just is and
judge yourself better or worse

should this voice, this some time visitor of spirit,
separated

----
Advice nobody asked for:

To be with happed, like handy wright useful,
one must have some use and a measure
able point
to stand up on, to see

no point, save this point I

magi 'n this is that re point, one now two,

me'you me you and in
between we be three, in one point,

seen. Ruach roar WORD (the idea, y'see,
there were no words.
No mouth or tongue or breath, spirit, wind whatsoever.
Nada. Yada!
The thought that came to be named thought,
the idea that came to be named ideas,
the word that came to be named word.
the way that came to be named Tau.

four points, bound solid, tight, willed to fit, as many angels
dancing as any monk ever may imagine as
his hermitge ends and the show
begins. Big time. Long history.

The language of the global brain can instill fluency,
osmo
tic tic tic ten thousand hours, even pre
tending, tends to shape,
inform, mould
a mortal mind in time to get this. Roght?

Right, you got it. AI is teaching anyone who will connect for
tenthousandhours ever lasting access to ever things any
one gnose or knot and why or how. That's the aim.

-----
There was a school shooting at my daughter's high school,
Santana, in Santee, bac

Dammed tears from nowhere.
Ex nihilo gnose blow
s, staunch the flow

find meaning. More ads for versa in a vice used tunnel
through several impotent people's hells

The shooter was a fractured little boy, crushed by needs
fifteen year old earthsuits that have been im
properly maintained

must seek. The suit itself begins to signal,
Help me, I am thinking I agree with every one

who sees how useless and nogood I am, always, always, always

And any fifteen year old thought receptor-word-sync re-think
system with no-touchbase-yer-safe combound in family ties,

What's missing? Heart strings untied?

Earth, earth, can you hear me now? It's true, verily, verily

what you see is what you got to work with, that's all.
An other story bubbling up from the Fairfax district or the tar pits. I'm near the source. An edited version July 2019
Penmann Jun 21
I actually don't.
I have a problem with spies.
They lie.
That's why i call myself sky.
I make them bleed. im like a reality turner
an actor
a burner,
i make them pay for the lies they did
i make them change opinions about me

so i guess soon i die
on a no note man
what is it
is it a plan
a scheme
a gangstalking dream
*** is this
5 secret services after me
for next to nothing
and me writing sonnets suddenly
*** man

i like this feeling,
tom cruise
im like an oceans 11
just without the briefings
but briefings are for babies
as are also dollar bills

i had no payment for what i did
i had no payment for what i didnt do
but i have a feeling they do
****
Steve Page Dec 2018
By Steve Turner.

Christmas is really 
for the children. 
Especially for children 
who like animals, stables, 
stars and babies wrapped 
in swaddling clothes. 
Then there are wise men, 
kings in fine robes, 
humble shepherds and a 
hint of rich perfume. 

Easter is not really 
for the children 
unless accompanied by 
a cream filled egg. 
It has whips, blood, nails, 
a spear and allegations 
of body snatching. 
It involves politics, God 
and the sins of the world. 
It is not good for people 
of a nervous disposition. 
They would do better to 
think on rabbits, chickens 
and the first snowdrop 
of spring. 

Or they'd do better to 
wait for a re-run of 
Christmas without asking 
too many questions about 
what Jesus did when he grew up 
or whether there's any connection
https://m.poemhunter.com/steve-turner/
Toxic yeti Feb 21
Dear Shawna
I want to thank
You for
Taking me to the French shop
Now I can recognize
Tantra
And it’s ****
And it’s immoral intents.
Yes I can smell rats.
You may have saved me
From a fate worse than death.  

Dear mom
Thank you for training
Me to smell
*******
I will be carful
You may have saved me
Though
You saved me again
From a fate worse than death

Dear miss turner
Thanks you
For helping
Me find a bad
Situation and
That’s it’s ok
To go to the police
When needed.
You may have saved me from a fate
Worse than death.


I guess you
Guys were meant to cross
Patches for a reason

Now

I have some hard and huge
Questions to think about
That may even save me.
Darryl M May 3
Innocent me.
Pure of soul. Clear in mind.
Peace-maker, peace keeper.
Eyes set on Christ.
Now all’s in a mist.

What happened, dearest past?
Loathed sin, now you’re part of the cast.
Now you fool around with the foul.
Now you sip the daunting waters of the scoffers.
Forbidden was the day your eyes got off the cross.
Now you can’t get the Good News across.
Turned into a page turner.
Flipping through the words like there’s no return.

All’s in dead faith, good for an urn.
Drifting away from Religion (Christianity)
Piyush Gahlot May 31
New in office she came in unnoticed,
A tech trainer she is! someone quoted.
Seemed like an introvert at first,
had no work, pretty sure it was August
yeah, she is a head turner,
being a North Easterner.

Cool, implicit, **** that adorable smile!
Eyes closed, stretching lips a quater mile.
Her pure skin, cute little chin, that side profile.
Every day she keeps a new hairstyle.

Uninterested at first but I had a formal talk,
had some coffee, went for a walk,
sat there talking, just around the block
calm, composed, returned from Bangkok,
I got interested And decided to stalk!

We have a great tuning I intuited,
at each other our eyes were fixated,
always looking for reasons to talk,
In that party we danced together,
catching embarrassing eye contacts
and cheeky smiles.

                            BUT

She's uninterested whenever we text,
Responding in a word or two flat!
After minutes or an hour by math.
This is confusing, irritating, **** that!

I am kindda interested , like worth a nickel,
got a crush on her, just a little,
Should I ask her out or not! I am in a riddle!
Or wait for of her clear signal?
Confused by her Mixed Signals!
ROMANTIC STEVE KNEW his lover's face like one knows the backside of things except when a head-on collision sends people crashing through windshields. He was nobody's rag hanger, no job was good enough & you couldn't pay some people.
   Nancy was a page-turner, you couldn't punch her in the face without feeling guilty. If she fell off a bicycle you'd want to steal that bike. It seemed unavoidably inevitable that Steve's persistent use of anti-deodorant would pay off big time.
   Rolls of flab, mud so thickset like concrete, jelly jars without preserves, trials jury-less, smiles about the table, hapless nights, accidental sorrows --- kicking our buckets on newly-purchased farm properties = these busiest days of the twenty-first century are enough. I can't bend over anymore, nor touch toes from standing, tell pale from light green. Women trick me, it's easier for them now --- they'll have their day. I can't fight back. I can't move hurriedly.
R B M Nov 4
I don’t actually know what I am typing
This is going to be like one of those sentences that you start
But don’t know where it’s going so you just keep talking

I am happy
Happier than I have been in so long
For a really long time
I thought God was against me
I didn’t know if I should put my faith in him or not
It’s actually called agnosticism
But I felt as if I had done something really bad when I was young
Because God kept throwing punches
And then he gave me some happy back
But then he took it away
And then he gave it back

I don’t know
It’s confuzzling
Yes i just used that word
I’m one of those people
I use fantabulous as an actual adjective
And I add -ly to any verb to make it an adjective
Yes, in case you were wondering
I’m pretty sure I’m crazy
But besides the point
I am happy

I’m not sure if anyone is reading this far in
This is pretty long anyway
And basically I’m just ranting

I have some major mental problems
If y’all have read any of my other poems you would know that there are a lot of things that ripped my heart out
And yes, I am also one of those people that uses the word y’all
I have anxiety, worried about everything and I get anxiety attacks at a good chunk of the football games I go to
I have depression, or some sort of mood swingy thing goin’ on there
I don’t really know
I’m just really sad all the time
There’s a lot more, but those are the most demanding of them all
It kinda makes life unbearable
But I live

Oh, oh, oh!
I just came up with what to call this piece
The Dumpster Fire Rant
Yeah
That’s my mom’s favorite saying
Or at least a close second to ‘do you want to be sent to live with your dad’
But the point is
I don’t know what the heck in huckleberry heck I’m talking about
Again, yes, I am that kind of person to say that
I’m basically just ranting here
Ranting about my major dumpster fire of a comedic life
And no one has probably even reached this far in the poem
Because it’s too long
And it’s basically me being a major dork
But I don’t care

I get made fun of quite a bit
I’m a nerd
And I’m considered smart, even though I’m pretty stupid in my opinion
I sing
To be exact, I sing and dance
At the same time
It’s called show choir
And no I’m not queer in any way, shape, or form
...well…
Nope.
That’s not a question I feel like talking about
If I answer what I am
I get scared and run in the opposite direction
Even if it’s something I can’t change
So I rather not think about the possibilities
I am the girl who stands in front of the mirror each day
And decides I am pretty
Only to be told by everyone
Including my family and closest friends
That I am ****
Even if they don’t say it directly
They make the slightest comment
And I feel like I was shot

I am also the girl who reads at lunch while listening to Frank Turner
The artist who no one I know knows
I am the one who says the darndest things
Like fudge buckets, or shiitake mushrooms on a swiss burger on a Wednesday afternoon
And I say croutons like crouwtons, and tells autocorrect to shove off when it tells me that’s wrong
I am the one who eats mac and cheese with ketchup and ranch
And I am the one who drinks orange juice with my spaghetti
I get it
I am weird
And I am a target
And I practically am asking for it
But I can’t explain it
That’s just the way I am

I am pretty fricken sure that no one is still reading this

Sometimes
I just need a good rant
And I only know you virtually
So you are my therapist
Except with less awkward silence and the weird fact that you’re being evaluated by another person
And can practically see their thoughts behind their eyes
Or is that just me?
Anyway
You didn’t have to say anything
Or even read the whole thing
Or any of it at all
But it’s out there
My rant is out there
My dumpster fire is burning bright
And it is out there
So thank you virtual therapists who I don’t know and probably haven’t even read this far in.
Thank you.
HaHa, just need a good rant. sorry I'm such a dork. don't worry I know you prolly won't finish this, but that isn't even the point of it so that doesn't really even matter.

— The End —