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Brad Lambert Oct 2013
(I)

Whose coat is this? Sure as hell isn't my coat. I ain't got no coat with this parka ****, it's *******. I ain't no furry flamin' ******. I ain't no ****** chochy Molly-May-Ze-**** chokin' down chickens and nasalin' a'sniffin' snortin' nasty-*** choch; that ain't me. That ain't me. Look at this coat– I'm like an Eskimo *****. I'm like a butch-**** bull-**** crotch-lappin' a'swimmin' laps in that guy's swimmin' pool. Who's that guy? Who owns that guy? 'Ey, anyone here the owner of this guy– guy ain't got no owner? Whose coat is this? It's nice, real nice. Bet she said, "Does it come from France? Where do I buy one?" I want to buy one, I think I need to buy **** more. I sure as hell need to buy one of these. "And I need one these too and one of them too and I need a petticoat and a tipper-tapper and a whimpratic garfielder and one of them new bartlemores, I need more of them bartlemores. I need more, more, more, more, more, more..." That ain't enough. ****'s from France. ****'s from Paris, that's romantic. You think I'm romantic? I eat hearts for dinner, I chew down nails like nuts for my midnight snack. I smoke cigarettes and spit on concrete slabs, you think that's ****? I'll show you ****. I'll show you Paris, New York City, Rome, romance you in Rome. I'll get real ******' Roman. I'll take you to the desert and make love to you. That's how a free man does a woman, and I'm a real free man. Who's ownin' this guy? It ain't you, it ain't me. I don't own you, you don't own me. I'm a free man:

I said,
"Fire and wood, fire and wood, fire and wood. It is late, it is late, it is far, far too late."

I set
fire to wood, fire to wood; feel that fire fired fresh from that firewood.

I dug the pit,
he gathered the wood,
she started the fire.

She really does make that fire start.

O' how she makes that fire burn,
O' how the wood's wrapped in white hots,
O' how they smoke their smokestacked pipes,
O' tobacco teeming teenagers, tormented by and through youth,
O' adolescence, trending topics, and forget-me-not flowers,
O' old age, Floridan coffins, and coughing  cancers,
O' writers in the mountains writing to be,
O' painters and **** bodies in studies by the sea,
O' thinkers in their mindset, mindsetting the table for dinner,
O' tables set to bursting,
O' wallets so thick,
O' community,
O' society, our social games,
O' hope,
O' peace,
O' that I may be at peace,
O' that I may be content and pray only for peace,
O' how about them true believers,
O' how about that love at first sight,
O' sandstone. My sandstone. That guy sittin' on sandstone.

That's my guy. That's my guy. I own this ****.

Is a man breathing on a mirror the sum of his breaths?
Breaths foggin' a'mistin' my view,
my view of a body and that face,
you're a body.
You're a workin' day's bell,
you're my chill in an Icelandic draft,
you're my spare in a Middle Eastern draft,
you're my pawn in chest-to-chest chess.

You've got this. You've got this. You own this ****.

And it is ****, too. I'd be set, real ******' set, with someone like you. I'll make you a woman, check this parka ****. Coat's mine. I'm a classy igloo runner, runnin' a'ragin' a'czebelskiin' meriteratin', I'll be reiteratin' your points. Check the time, it's late! It's late! ***** was in the grassy knoll turnin' trap tunes on her turntable. Would you listen to that? She sounds late to me, does she sound late to you? I like the music; I like the music. What happened to Woodstock? Where's my watergate, Nixon? Where's my generation, Ginsberg? Where's the meaning? This music's too loud! We're so profound! O' profundity!

Tell me something I didn't know, I'm craving' the new.
Give me the new while I spit on the old,
while I spit on this fine art finely art'd by and for fine artists–
******' fine artists. ******* fine artists.

(You can realize radical-realist realism but you can't be real with me?)

O' fine art!
What fine art!
Which fine artists are dead?



(II)

Looks like they're dead.

Looks like them ******* choked out all them ghettos, choked out all them rednecks, chokin' a'stranglin' by-God-oh-God straddlin' the breeders. I sure did like them babes– babes with their laughin' a'lackin' o' cynicism. They don't know the word "****."

I sure am forgetful–
I forgot that smoke doesn't dissipate,
I forgot how to smell autumn leaves,
I forgot to check the heart against the fingertips,
I forgot why my fingertips went numb,
I forgot to cue in the meaning when the sentence was complete,
I forget to complete my sentences,
I forget who you were wanting when you said, "I want you."

I got as much depth as an in-depth discussion, high hats and electropercussion have got me going. I'm goin' downtown, uptown bourgeois tricked me out, johns and yellow Hummers laid me down and cussed me out. That's not a discussion. That's not my scent scenting my towel, this breath reeks of wintry air– my fingertips went numb.

"I want you."

"Oh would you look at that moon?
Take a look at that moon.
Look at that moon with the ******' mountains.
I love that moon.
That's my moon."

I love darin' a'dusty dareelin' derailin' your dreams, whose dreams are these? They ain't my dreams– ain't no dream derailin' a'nileerad radiatiatin' some hint of joy or Jamison Scotch Liqueur. Drink that ****. That's my ****, I own that ****.
I'm sittin' on this stoop like I own this ****, like this **** owns me; I owed me. I don't own me, you owe me:

Pay up man, feet off the stoop.
Pay up man, be real with me.
Pay up man, you ever thought of a man as a man?
Pay up man, give it in.
Pay up man, give in.
Pay up man, I need you to do me a solid. Do me solid from crown-to-toe, we're toe-to-toe let's do-si-do bro-to-** I'm ready go, **, jo, ko, lo, get low… Now I'm ramblin'. You say, "Ramble in to the stoop and tell me a story."

What's a stoop– who's a stoop? That **** ain't stoop– you ain't stoop. You're stupid. You're a joke, check out the joke. Hey ladies, you seen this joke– joke ain't been seen by them ladies? I'm a joke. We ain't laughin' with you, they're laughin' at you.

O' hilarity!
Such hilarity!
What hilarious histories have passed?



(III)*

"I said I loved him once. I only loved him once."
(
And how long once has been...)

I sure did like them hand-holdins,
them star-gazin' moments,
them moon phasin' nighttime nuances,
them fingertip feelin' a'findin',
them sessions o'meshin' limber legs unto steadfast *****,
heads cocked like guns toward the sky,
beyond the horizon
but well
below the belt.

Them star-gazing moments seeing stars seemin' small, I love how they gleam- gleamin' a'glarin' comparin' shine to shine, shimmerin' a glimmer shone stumblin' her way home from the bar. She's drunk. She's brilliant, brilliance of whit and wantin' a'wanderlustin' gypsy nomads- that ***** gyp'd me, no mad man would take a cerebral slam to the face lest them moving pictures are involved. Read a ******' book, it'll last longer. Kiss me on the collar bones, clavicles shone shining with slick saliva pining for my affections. You're clammerin' to feel me, clammin' up (Just feel me.) I want to run my hands through long hair and peg the nausea nervosa to the wall. The writing's on the wall:

The sun bent over so the moon could rise, chanting,
"Goodbye and good riddance,
I never wanted to shine down
on them seas o' tranquilities anyhow."*

O' what a day. What a day.

And the wind ruffles leaves and it ruffles feathers on birds eating worms in brown soil.

What a day. What a day.

And the men under the bridge gather in traitorous conversation of governments overthrown and border dissolution and poetry with meters bent out of tune.

What a day. What a day.

And the billboards are dry for all the consumers to consume, use, and review.

What a day. What a day.

And hearts break messiest when you're not looking.

What a day. What a day.

And the ego and the id and the redwood trees are talking. They're sitting **** in the marshes, bathing in the bogwater while fondling foreign fine wines and whisperin' a'veerin' conversations towards topics kept well out of hand, out of the game, nontobe racin' in races, rampant radical racists betting bets on bent, bald Bolshevik racists wagging Marxist manifestos in the bourgeois' faces, yes. Make it be. Nontobe sanity as the captain creases his pleats, pleasin' her creases and the dewdrops of sweat trailing down the small of her back– down the ridge of her spine forming solitary springs of saline saltwater in the small of her back. Aye-aye, guy's pleasin' a'makin' choices a'steerin'– government's a'veerin' a hard left into the ice.

'Berg! 'Berg!
Danger in the icy 'berg!
None too soon a 'berg!
Bound to bump a 'berg!
O' inevitably unnerving 'berg!
Authoritative 'berg!
Totalitarian 'berg!
Surveillance of *** and the sexes 'berg!
O' fatalist fetishist 'berg!
Benevolent big brother 'berg!
Homosocial socialization 'berg!
Romanticized Roman 'berg!
O' virginal mother 'berg!
City on a hill on a 'berg!
Subtly socialist 'berg!
Nongovernmental 'berg!
O' illustrious libertine 'berg!
Freedom of the people 'berg!
Water privatization 'berg!
Alcohol idolization 'berg!
O' corrupt and courageous 'berg!
Church and a stately 'berg!
Pray to your ceiling fan 'berg!
Biblically borne 'berg!
O' godly and gorgeous 'berg!
Ferocious freedom fighters launching lackluster demonstrations far too post-demonstration feeling liberty and love, la vie en rouge, revolving revolutionist ranting on revolution tangible as
an ice cold 'berg.

'Berg! 'Berg!
O' the 'berg, the ****** iceberg–
You'll be the death of me.
Patrick Ensslin Oct 2013
smoke comes up like a hammer
bing bam slams a man
twists his nose
turns, e looks for his friends
in the other room, but theyr far now
farther than the knife big
man machete got eyes like
dog in woods, got teeth like
dog in woods
he aint shittin nobody now
no he aint
clever ***** none here
whisperin whisperin
comin closer and
i nos i aint got the time so
big lunge i giv him
a big un
but a big
dog needs a
bigger lunge
so i grabsme figger
and takes off wif no sound
but a big
dog got a bigger nose
sniff farther, dig
deeper, and a rat in the sewer
gets chewed, gets mangled
gets is wittl teethums pulled out
FUCKEM FUCKEM FUCKEM
getde teeth getde credit cards
RIPEM RIPEM RIPEM
hoo amex this ****’s got it
FUCKEM FUCKEM FUCKEM
rough, little yuppie ****
RIPEM RIPEM RIPEM
you think that *** is any good?
FUCKRIPS FUCKRIPS FUCKRIPS
Brad Lambert Feb 2014
Bar me off, Useless! Cryin' a'sighin'– over cliffs, over.
She caught me a'whisperin' at the docks! Far, yea, far;
And when did compersion to the western wayside go?
Feeling let down. Staircase is a'goin' for a day or two!

Distance between two points. Farther, father, fathoming depths.
Low, now! Lower bent! –you, so far bent, did ask him so.
"Chief Joseph– St. Joseph– Won't he have word with me?
Nonsensical, man. Understand! If only for a day or two."

Yea, some men never call. Some callers a'callin' do.
Blue collared jazz blues– You saving it for the morning?
Where the sea meets the land. Find him by the cowrie reef–
I say that's unnecessary. Stand by me for a day or two!

And them stories be so far bent,
all a'tellin' them so:

He fell out! What a falling out!
Talked about for years to come!
And hear they come 'round the bend–
Lessening distance between points. I see horizon.
O' horizon! Yonder horizon! And the sun all arisin' be!

Huddlin'– All huddled like. Beneath the comet's tail she caught me.
Found me all a'whisperin' at the docks...        and            I             say:

*"Seaside, O' Seaside! Beneath them netherskies you wait. Yea, if a fool's never foolish are his thought's so foolish, see– I never felt so transfixed. Them waters got a depth to them– Therein lies weight. I talk to still paintings– none be a'talkin' back to me! Minds racing backwards. Would you listen to that still? Silence, she finds me in unnerving non-natural states. Psychosis takes a seat. They say them waters at the western wayside foam! A real, true foam! Froth and cough into your sleeve, white foam! Kiss me on the lips and tell me secrets for a day– Frenzy! Riot on! Whitewaters, subtle sexes, and a midnight matinee. I say what a night– What a comet's shone today!"
Let me know what ya think.. &&&
Amaru Jul 2010
This is how it's goin' be!
drama unfolds
only when *****'s
ain't where they posed to be!
mindin' they own!
doin' they thang!
whisperin' like
*****'s,
bout anotha *****'s intentions.
how they goin' get rich
off anotha *****'s inventions.
anotha *****'s invention... what?

Beware!

of a cousin named distant
or a father named, missin'
I'ma *******
that's determined
to bring this
to your attention.

listen!

and maybe you will know
how to play yo position!

distance!

yo' self from the negative
just be
relentless.

maybe...

I should love me
for what I'm worth?
or maybe
the television
or the news
has to show
a ***** first!

maybe...

I hate livin
because the struggles to great
but
what I choose
affects the little ones
that
I help create... I help create!

I ventured out on my own
too young
as a kid.
****** up
and landed on my ***!

gotdamn!

again?

couldn't stand my mama!
she tried to
box me in.
not realizin'
mama
was tryin' to raise

two... black... men!
Based on my life. Spoken in its truest form. Parental discretion is advised!
Jeremy Mackey Feb 2012
My lips are still blisterin,
From all that whisperin, that
Made me kinda sick, so I
Search for my chapstick, but
Find in it’s stead,
A pen, orn’ry and red,
That chooses to be used,
And true to my cue, I
Seclude and intrude
On each and every muse-
-ic, -ing, -ment, of my peers.
And its clear I have seared
Every page I have seen
And heard of my herd,
Pulled apart at the seems
Teeming with teams
And half-assessed dreams, that I dreamt
But have since beheaded like queens.
Yet who is the jester? The joker? The fool?
It’s me from your world, your country, your school.
It’s me who coos uncool, and caws too rawly
And so rarely, Even I’m a bit scared of me
No! No fear or fervor is necessary, tremors and
Heartstrings tremble headlines on the Daily.
Oooh, calm, soothe, my tongue, my soul, my lips,
I’ll cool them off but remember all this, or else you
May be blistering, and searching, for my lost chapstick,
But be lacking in trust, ‘cause I used it all up,
Quite a long time before you even lusted that luck.
JL Dec 2011
The cops got called at one a.m
An she's sitting on the front step
Smokin a cigarette wearing sunglasses
Hello officer he's inside
In the bedroom sleepin
Let me see what's under them sunglasses
A ******* eye and her lip is bleedin pretty good
The cops run in stomping over and on Christmas presents
The kids are cryin Daddy, daddy!
Mommy what's goin on
Their comin to talk to daddy about him bein mad
Dad is a fighter though and takes the first cop
Right in the throat with a balled up fist
The second cop got him good with his nightstick
Straight to the gut
Daddy is layin there while the good beat him on the ribs
In chains they drag him out to the car
Cussin and yellin up a **** storm
Momma sittin there cryin her eyes out yellin
Baby I love you im sorry
I love you I'm sorry

Time is gone by
Things have called down
While the pigs are takin statements an ****
Right there in the trailer park I see that girl
Some construction workers daughter from west Virginia throws her glasses on the ground
And asks to talk to her lover
He cryin in the backseat
Locked up
she broke my heart when she cradled his bleeding head to her *******
Whisperin I love you baby
With all my heart
She kissed him on the lips
A good long kiss
A movie kiss
Tommorow is Christmas baby I'm gonna bail you out
No you won't baby
We got our rent to pay
There ain't never a passionate kiss in this trailer park
That don't end with both of em tastin blood
Christmas eve in Tennessee means broken teeth and ******
And cops givin out a whippin

i lay on my back thinkin' at the stars
why i had to fight that many a wars
i watch the birds as they are flyin' by
always have wished bein' able to fly

i stay at pace wonderin' at the sky
why does the ego urge to satisfy
i hear those leaves whisperin' in the wind
all the amount on the trees i have sinned

i may be restin' as if behind bars
the dreams i have had but those nightmares why
i feel cold as the pressure overwhelms
it is i this world into depths has binned

for now my place is here beneath these elms
this grave now to be my only of realms

*
..love always...



عرفان بن يوسف © AH 09/05/1437

'a (pentameter) Sonnet'
Flower Scent Nov 2010
Feel Me,an emotion deep inside your heart,

a meadow's  wild white  simple  daisy,

reincarnated in a soft crimson rose,

a scarlet heart of velvet petals,

birthed in embroided silk of mystique passion.

A bacchus of wine filled with perfumed aroma,

in  a vineyard of  fragrant thoughts of you.

Feel Me,as i come in your night,a soft gentle wind ,

whisperin through your window,caressin your face,

kissin your cheeks,breathin you in sweetest dreams,

takin you in a garden,to a  lake, where swans pirhouette,

as we lie  down  on  a mattress of golden threaded  leaves.

Feel Me,as we ride,on the open wings of love and fantasies,

Hold me ,as i get lost in you and you get lost in me,

as you drink the nectar of my cherry red lips,

as we kiss,a moist and warm  wet  kiss.

Feel Me,in the fresh liquid raindrops,patterin,

cleansing your worries away,as i pat your back,

as we walk in the park,as we talk,as I listen and understand,

as  we giggle,holdin hands ,sittin on our favourite  wooden bench,

under yesterday's lanternes of hundred dancing fire-flies.

Feel me,as we lay on the sand,gazing in each other's eyes,

cheered by tamed silver waves,watching the stars

Hugging below a universe of  black ebony skies.

Feel me,as i dip my brush in finest oils,and paint a path

of coloured rainbows,where we can find each other once again,

a path where we can dream,where we can live and love,

where we will never be apart or scent the absence once again.

Feel me,in  the candle burning never ending flames of passion,

a young lady,so deeply in love with you,Can you feel me?

My Beloved,Mon amour,Can you feel the touch of me?
Jon Tobias Apr 2011
Every thought I have is you

Even when I finally managed to stop involuntarily whispering your name,

On cold mornings

I see it on my breath

Like Carrol’s caterpillar

Askin’

Who

Are you?

That’s the problem

I already know who you are

Now I am tryin’ to forget

But I can’t

I made some promises that I need to keep

For instance

I said I would never let them bury you

And we somehow managed to find our way into burning buildings

I told you how I keep my heart in my throat to trap the air in my chest

So that I would stop gasping in your presence

I inhale smoke sometimes

And I cried

When they brought me your blackened breastplate

Heart still beating a fire

Looked like the sun

There’s a universe in you

And now it’s in me too

Gives off this light that is almost blinding

So that when I rub my eyes

The iridescent reflection of them on the back of my lids

Is the same color as yours

Same color as gasoline on pavement

Makes me wanna set this world on fire

Only way to stop seeing you everywhere

Like the ****** Mary

I saw you in my oatmeal

Heard you in a wind chime

Whisperin’ like the wind

Beggin me to consider life like a skipped heartbeat

You ****** me when you left

Forgot me like a puzzle

Soda stained on a coffee table

I got black holes in my universe

And now every thought I have is you

You are in every word I speak

In every sound I hear

Even my breath

spells your name
Brad Lambert Apr 2014
Grass does grow green in Spring.
Snowmelt's been done, drawn out.
Aye, how you all feign complacency.
(I kiss men at dusk in the street light.)
I've been restless all night, goin' on about them
rimed hearts and their timely, metered whispers in ears:

O' they say he's got a stellar mind
but that his bones carry weights unkind
and unknown to the modern man's heart.


O' they say we'll never know just how
hard he fell; he loved you then and now
he spends his days aching from rapt thoughts.


O' they say he's bound to collapse in
but what do they know of whisperin'
and weights of wanting– So heavy still!


You hold them pages to the flames, what delusions!
Hearts be weighted with bells and ringing.
You've wrapped thoughts 'round index and thumb, such confusion–
Heavy-weighted with iron shavings.

You never go far for anything.
You're wont to be needin' some more swell.
You see the water run from the well.

And everyone here is moving a bit too slow.
And I'm getting a bit too restless.
And every day passes without something to show–
And I am feeling rather restless.

I was just a'pacin' through them woods.
I'm prone to be wantin' some more swell.
I have drank the water from the well.

No, I was just a'snappin' down on some smoked skin.
And everyone since drives me straight moot.
No, I was just ponderin' that moment– Some sin!
Yea, every day since I've felt clumsy.

They'd call it a whoopsy-daisy slip
into loose and hazy days and nights.
Whip-lashing from nails; scratches down backs.

There ain't no more whistlin' nay howlin' in this place.
Hush now, until the well runs bone-dry.
There ain't no wratch who's been wretch'd out like you– Some chase!
Hush'd and still, this well's gone and ran dry.
Brad Lambert Sep 2013
I've heard that wakefulness is life.

That hearin' and seein'
and feelin' a'tastin' and touchin'
are living all the same.

I've heard that to bear one's heart is above all deeds.

He said,
"The world's built for cynics, don't say such things. I'd spit on an ant just to sit and watch it drown before I'd share a picnic crumb with an ant who can't swim."

I'm not a heavy sleeper,
I don't spend much time shot puttin' a'careenin'
through nighttime and midday naps.

I think it's hard to bear one's heart.

I hope that someday my son has a branch outside his window.
And that at night it will whip o' wind
and scratch a'scrapin' at his window
and his call will bring me in to bear my heart.

And that the person I first love will walk out the door,
intent to leave me forever, just so I can run after them.
In a sprint to hailing cab to feet on airport linoleum I won't dare say,

"Come back."

No, I'll be a'whisperin' sayin',

"I don't care where that plane's going as long as I'm going there with you."

In the terminal I'll run in to bear my heart.
I guess at the bottom of it all I just want to bear my heart.

I've heard that wakefulness is life
and that the sleeping are not living.

Nor a'dying buyin' time in nonexistent shot putt courts
where they aim for dreams within their dream.
The sleeping are surely always dreaming. But wakefulness is life.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2019
Selah, in this realm
means
pause. think. pause meaning, we agree, slow down,
focus,
extol, pay
attention based on worth ship possible to take
as granted, per se.

ya move toofastgottamockdemoanin'past foevah Jung.

were there no condemnation here,
could you abide?

Selah.
Y'see, we words form bubbles, in which we list
whither we will
in swirling mists of Swedenborgian beauty,
you can only imagine,

as winds return on circuits perpetual enough
for mortal bubble minds like ours.

Selah
For the players on ins
truements. Key of B, natural. lah lah lah la on an' on

whisperin' pine backin' old crow's caw.
This seems fine, f'now.

Selah some mo'
A biblical scholar, so-called, possibly arrogant, as in self-so-called, saw no significance in the instructions accompanying psalms, so i defined my term for him.
Mitchell Feb 2011
Everybody says they've loved once or twice before
Some say they always wanted more & more
Wishing of riches that could fill every sea
Or dreaming of mountains that they secretly wished to be

I never knew love until it went away
Every woman sadly whisperin' she wouldn't stay
Her breathe heavy, her back tanned
In the morning she'd hold close to her face a fan

Dew glistened on flowers that never wilted
Our love together reached a peak that never lifted
Clouds above poured heavy rain & silt
While I dreamt of land where I'd fit

I ain't sorry for the things I did or said
At times I thought I was gonna' lose my head
But I behaved for too long as I lost myself
Now I know it's another book on an ending shelf

These times are heavier then they used to be
If only the young guy I knew once could see
Of the right horror show that I see now
Oh how I know he'd drink lighter, struggling to make no sound

Fleeting smiles that once painted friends of mine
Grow into silent frowns that haunt my mind
Oceans that once purred like ***** cats
Now stir and crash like a barbarians bat

But I know now that time has it's clutches on me
I can stir, shake, whimper and plead with thee
I can shout, pout, pamper and beg with He
But I know forever He'll have a hold on me

Take out the last smoke of the night
Drink down any pint in sight
Friends will close down their shops sooner then one thinks
A smile, a nod, and a fleeting far away wink

Take no sadness from these unbalanced words
In the end
They'll be just another step
Through another familiar door

I kick my snow filled boots off,
As I think of the endless woods outside,
Now I think of the next adventure,
Oh where a restless soul could venture!
Brad Lambert Sep 2014
"I swear, the sun rose early today,"
you went a’whisperin’ on the roof.
Hands behind your head watching
orange become blue – I agree.

The lightpost out front shines blue
‘fore horizon eats the sky for keeps.
We pose red tiger lilies in the soil
as the sun elopes with morning.

Garage with an iron stove
and a growing wood stock.
Two beds pushed together.
Yea, these are frosty nights.

Dreamin’ of lilies, leg hairs,
moths and swoopin’ bats,
noses with honest angles,
leg squeezin' that be thigh
squeezin' before dying fires.
Hair’s a bit dry, then damp.
Callouses show guitar string
familiarity. Just as before,
you’re quiet. A sunset
approaches, rarity.
Stoking the fire
until the room
grows cold,
rare and raw
in deed and in action.
Intrepid and convoluted.
Purposeless language so thick
and unable to expression o’makin’!
Non-motion! Unbeauty and polluted flair!
I spit words like curses at the bee-stingin’ burn!
Ain’t been no words like those I spat as his Luckiest Strike
met my forearm. And the pain fades. And my arm crossin’ over his.
I can tell by the look on his face as I take his mark away – No regrets!

Skinny as an ostrich thigh. Hair bristled and wet.
Grass dying under the pressure of bare feet.
No climactic conclusion or sequel to undefeat.
“Take a dip in the ditch right creeping to dawn.”*

Spitting into shot glasses
until we both set it straight.
Thunder claps before lightning leaps skyward.
Well-steeped tea makes a brown into tan
into clearest of steam,
filling up the kettle.
How anxious.
So anxious.
Jon Shierling Oct 2014
And the mist comes a'fallin
in October the month of Harvest,
breathing portents and signs
as we all feel this
some sort of calling.

And the Dark comes a'risin
in October the month of Changing
when Heroes and Heroines
of our home the Earth
find themselves despising.

And Samhain comes a'whisperin
in October the month of Remembering
what we used to be and still are
more than mere flesh and blood
children of the Annw'n glittering.

And the Veil comes a'witherin
in October the month of Delivering
that which those of us bleeding
from wounds deep within
a God's Love continually Transfiguring.
Inspired by a certain series of rather otherworldly coincidences, and of course by The Dark is Rising Sequence.
brooke Jul 2016
we're standing outside the grounds and
i notice how my forearms look remarkably
tan against the white bars, darker than the
loose wet sand out in the arena, a calf trots
by and darts off when a young boy flips a beer
cap at its head--

Ben looks out to the bleachers and goes so, I gotta ask
and I know what's comin' before it leaves his mouth,
know it's something about you, something that's probably
gonna sting a bit so I say, yeah? and I smile real nice like
I don't expect a bad thing--

and he peels a layer of skin from his knuckles and says that he went and asked Alan about me, about what kind of person I was--
that you up and told him I was real ****** churchy all full bore and what have you...so I go quiet and he looks over and gets this startled
expression, like I've gone pale. Which is funny, all things considered.
but he bumps my shoulder and says I won't bring it up again,
i just was curious


I shake my head because I know I'm good at hiding an
erratic heartbeat. I can see you leaned back somewhere with a
*** of copenhagen nestled into your front lip, real ****** churchy
comin' out of you sharp and smooth like a blade,
I imagine you might be hurt about it all,
what business have I got with a Rusher?
twice as crazy as you, probably.

I tell him I've got to go--gotta go because it's late,
because the rodeo is over, because pluto is 4.6 billion
miles from earth and I can feel its gravity--I gotta go.
While I'm driving home, I'm tapping out the syllables
and counting the letters, whisperin' real ******' churchy
to myself, incredulously, in agreement, partially because
I can't think of much else



I didn't expect that, really.
Not from you.
(c) Brooke Otto 2016



alrighty.
Brad Lambert Feb 2014
I say, status seems pychic– How! Za-zoo! And how!
O' that brain be electric as a buzz!

I'm all a'fixin' to be boxed.
These joints are a'sprainin–
Winter wind snakes done
constricted and strainèd.

Out of place. Almost out of time, I swear:
Never enough place, barely enough time.

Korean girl's all a'watchin' to see
how I sip hot tea... Out! Get out!
I got them delusions, deliriums–
All's done. I'm diluted, sayin':

“Medicine for my grievin'–
Aye, my confidence has been gone.
Never did speak of leavin'–
I met him at the ditch at dawn.”


And left unsaid was better yet,
coos all a'whisperin' by waters.
Water's runnin' thin now.
Creek's gone, ran dry.
He's a man of stature,
he can't just go!
Anthills and ant
burrows 'neath
sands gone mad–
O’ bore teeth! Yea!
Where's the meter
meeting the rhyme
when your bliss'd
metronomicist
loses pace
and dies?
Slows
and slows
and slower yet
his heart does beat
and the last of his words
do run across his teak frame:

“O' bore teeth!
Bearing ‘em all;
All is a'grinding!”


It’s but a machine to keep one’s rhythm,
to help one maintain the desired beat.

She kisses me on the forehead.
I return the gesture on her cheek.
He whispers to me through darkness:
“There are many worlds we’ve yet to see.”

It is thoughts like that which grant me focus.
Where all’s good and wishes, like prayers, be lent.

My thoughts lag behind, weighted by you.
I strain them through hot water for tea.
She watches as I drink. I waited for you–
Drank it by the ditch in the morning.

I fend off these demons in the courtyard.
Winter spells done summoned my greyest thoughts.

Here all's good! Yea, all be lent–
I tacked your name to the corkboard.
Alas, none was meant for you–
I fend off thoughts in the courtyard.

O’ that mind be broken, still-painted grey!
Not much I can do but keep the winter at bay.
Haven't been proud of a new poem in a while. Let me know what you think..
HackMonocut Dec 2014
tomorrow is your birthday
too late to chase your dreams
you act like you never knew me
you've turned into someone else

please don't look at me that way
you fell in love with another man
I don't wanna have to beg you
won't you gimme back my love

tomorrow is your birthday
feel your skin is gettin' colder
and you're whisperin' in my ear
no, no...  
schschsch.....

happy birthday dear stranger
happy birthday to you
happy birthday dear stranger
gimme back my love

I pull away the plastic curtain
enter the room
I took apart her body
first I peeled off her face

I couldn't stand the way she watched me
couldn't stand her hungry eyes
then I cut off her fingers
that she couldn't scratch out my eyes

I opend up the perfect body
pulled out her heart
I cut it into pieces
to dig out my love

gimme back my love
gimme back my love
gimme back my love
gimme back my love

happy birthday dear stranger
gimme back my love
gimme back my love
****** ballad on the upcoming album
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2016
The Camp Cooky’s singin again outa tune,
  about turnin 60 today around noon

"What good is there in it?" I hear him say,
  and it got me to thinkin . . . seein it was his birthday

It seems bein 60’s got two spins to that tale,
  one frittered and wrinkled, the other covered in shale

The one who’s 60 if truth be told,
  is still younger than all those 61—to real old

In the campfire’s crackle of light I can see,
  how everyone younger, is likely dumber than me

So if my hands struggle with the knots and riggin fer sure,
  the knowin and the tellin to those younger’s worth more

Havin outlived many a cow horse, while lovin them all,
  the awnry and skitterish, the short and the tall

The summers ridin drag, and the worst winters mendin fence,
  with a slicker full a holes, and that ol dog with no sense

And while the cuttin and the brandin seems boring to some,
  it’s the importance of their nature and gettin things done

When the hats and the spurs and even the saddles are all gone,
  and the sun sinks over that last mountain, like in Dusty’s ol song

I’ll remember the good times, lettin go of the bad,
  and think back on the pards and the ladies I’ve had

Because just like for Cooky, it happened last year to me,
  and turnin 60 seemed ranker than any bronc could ever be

But like that new Visalia saddle the boss man said was now mine,
  I've found somethin that’s different, somethin gentler and kind

The speed and the strength ain’t been traded for free,
  and somethin woke up that I guess was sleepin in me

And as I yell to the wrangler “Cut me one gentle and nice”
  without loosin too much pride I ask, “Can you help Ol Jim
  cinch his riggin real tight”

Then once more in the dark I ride off in search of the herd,
  singin that one favorite cow song every real hand has heard

And as I inch up on the lead steer whisperin mellow and low,
  “Yippee ki yay, Ol Fella; you ready to go”

For maybe one last time we push North thru the dark,
  the sun still two hours off to the right of our mark

While in the distance a wolf howls, as that lead steer catches my
  eye, and in that instant I know I’m still needed—a long ways
  from g’bye

(Dewey Montana: Circa 1990) Read In Elko Nevada, 1993
Kimberly Brown Jul 2013
This wasn’t the first time
daddy had asked Mary to come into his room,
but I was so surprised
that she called daddy by his first name
but I didn’t say a word.

That mad look in daddy’s eyes
shone as bright as those sprinkled stars
as he made his way beside the bed.

“Come now darlin’,
don’t make me beg for ya.
I need my wife tonight I can’t help it.”

His breath puffed out
in waves of sour miasmic *****
as he bent down low to kiss Mary on her head.

He stayed there
just seeming to breath in her hair for a moment.
Mary stayed stock still
in the bed rubbing my head
telling me it would alright.
I didn’t know what was happnin’.

“Can’t you see the girls are scared tonight?”
Her voice rattled horasly,
as if she was scared but she lay there firm.

Daddy looked around suddenly
as if tryin to find something lost.

“Where’s Kylie?” he asked
scratchin his head
as if that made him think better.

He peered into the dark,
his eyes squinted
a bit as he tried to see through the dark.

He shook his head
but I sat up and said
“right here daddy.”

I went up to touch his arm but Mary held me back.

“Don’t touch him.” She whispered to me,
then patting me on my arm until I quieted.

“I don’t know Don,” Mary said to him,
“Probably out like usual
lookin’ up at those stars again.
You know how she loves her stars.”

Daddy laughed again
then took Mary’s hand
pullin her up from the bed.

“Come on now Martha.”
He cooed kissin her on her hand.
“You’ve got to leave the girls to sleep on their own.”

Mary tried to resist but daddy only laughed lacing his fingers in hers.

I lay still that night,
Haley held tight on my arm cryin silently.
She was thirteen  
and kept whisperin over and over

that it wasn’t right what he did to her.

“Why are you cryin?” I asked her,
but she only told me to hush and close my eyes.

It must have been about an hour later
when I heard sounds commin from the other room.
The headboard was hitting against the wall
and daddy was grunting while Mary’s voice,
small was whimpering, almost cryin.
Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
I think I'm startin' to get that feelin' again
That sinkin' sensation followed by intense anticipation of the end I feel I'm facin'
The hell my life is based in
Then I meet up with my fear of drownin'
Thoughts not safe havin' come crashin' in
Will I ever learn or is this far beyond teachin' a lesson
Up against my dark passenger, the undisputed, heavyweight champion
And the challenger, in the blue corner noticably panickin'
Just some guy with a crazy look in his eye but no business challengin' his demon
My Hyde side stays undefeated while I've never recorded a win
Bringin' my mental discipline into question
Knowin' my armor's thin
Knowin' I've already taken one to many to the chin
It's  constant whisperin' drowns out everythin'
Top tier manipulation allowin' the interjection of it's own spin
On this tailspin my doomed zeppelin always finds itself in
I feel like I should mention, it's not one, it's Legion
Not a friend, it laid claim and became kingpin
I could only watch like I was fifth in a five deep bullpen
No consent given, not even a conversation
Rushed past me like I was a doorman at a Motor Inn
And I stood there silent, broken, incapable of motion
Often thoughts and feelings are left unspoken
Paralyzed with fear, just standin' here like a dollar store mannikin
Behind a display of 151 and Heineken
Made it easy for it to find it's way up under my skin
I hardly even knew what was happenin'
Now I don't know where it ends and I begin
Not sure there's any separation

©2023
panda miranda Jun 2015
summer is a frame of mind
people think we waste our time
dreamin' 'bout those days..
dreamin' 'bout those sunny rays

and i can hardly speak
when you're right next to me
whisperin' in my ear
words so very clear

living in a harmony
tell me you'll remember me
hard to breathe?
yes, hard to speak..
i still feel you here with me

summer
brings the coldest pain i know
summer
brings the only pain that grows
this is actually a song i wrote
brooke Nov 2017
i spoke through a keyhole
come find me
in the middle of the night
god read a chapter out of ephesians
clear as day,
and since then i've been
hearing myself
like my heartbeat been
a tiny pulse, pyura chilensis
split apart to see i am actually
here
I've been beatin' this whole time--

and we learn too fast we made of stardust
but that was all ash and seed
before we ever came along
we've got sweet pea and
cardamom in our bones
all the surly wiles of our mothers
a mix of turpentine and
spanish flame
come find me

and i'm whisperin' back
*alright, i'm comin'
(c) Brooke Otto 2017
Austin Barker Dec 2016
There is a person inside
they're always crying
slowing dying in the dark
they never seem to stop falling apart
but that person is you before the world started beatin
late at night you can hear those thoughts whisperin
and you start seeing that knife as a light at the end of the tunnel
then you meet her that one person
who knows how your hurtin
she makes you so happy and everything seems okay
and you take her hand and make a life
until that one night when a man rips it all away
with the stab of a sharp knife in the night
you want to die and because you cant live this life
but before you go you want to make it right in your mind
so you set him on fire right there in the yard as a bold show
then you fall and let it all go
and you smile because you get to see your lover one more time
except this time its forever
just like you promised when you were together that one last time
she said she was your forevermore
and you said that nothing would take you away
you promised that you would never see that day
now you spread your wings and sing with her
she smiles and whispers i missed  you
and you say I love you
remember suicide isn't the answer
but some of the stuff you swear
all for love there's no more care
so spread those wings and fly
through the air
In a shadowy sky of lies—
Be a star whose light of truth never dies.

In a shoreless sea of despair—
Be a wave of hope beyond compare.

In a galaxy of perpetual sorrow—
Be a planet of joy that doth glow.

In a bottomless vale of negativity—
Be a whisperin’ stream of positivity.

In a darkling wood of unfairness—
Be a soaring tree of fairness.

In a desert of desperation—
Be an oasis of inspiration.

In a drove of utter unkindness—
Be a reflection of utter kindness.

©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros👌
17th/Sept/2020, Evergreen State♥️
P.S
Good friend—If serendipitously this poetry ink of poor couplets oozing from a quill of so lowly a bard hath tenderly caressed thy soul, then it’ll be of stupendous honor if thou dost share upon a page of thine so thou mayst bless others.💕💫💕🌙💕⭐️💕🌟💕✨💕⭐️

P.S.S
Choose and in the comment section drop some other words of different topics thou mayst think of, and I’ll try my quill to forge rhyming couplets out of them. Bless thy soul.

#desideratum #couplets
Though we continue through pain seems like it's hard to maintain getting ahead in society
So many wish ya downfall but I'm still gone ball ...swang...

I wanna swang outside swang outside swang outside in the rain
It may sound crazy but I wanna swang outside swang outside swang outside in the rain...x2




Verse 1
Sittin' reminscin' feelin' good rollin' blunts in the kitchen fattin' the tips so them spirits can get the whisperin'
Enlighten my melon a stardust child born in the wild still smile over my enemies but **** em I still got the nine buckin' soon to be duckin'
ya head watch for the feds tryna get ya daily bread man that's what my OG said
Still scrapin' for crumbs to make a perfect album and how come
Everytime I wanna swang n bang in the avenues hateful crews try to spread bad news
But I'm still gone climb to the top once they caddy let out the trunks gone pop none could stop the ultimate wrecker chin checker the soul collector
As roll through times thinkin' as I swang in the rain...

I wanna swang outside swang outside swang outside in the rain
It may sound crazy but I wanna swang outside swang outside swang outside in the rain...x2

Verse 2
Yeah so many haters love to teach and try to preach but they really a leech
To everything you increase
Wither it's money or prosperity ain't no clarity only when they see you makin' it successfully that's when they be
At they most vulnerable to become honorable but I see the bull and the invisible vestibule my intellectual incredible so don't think I'll be scared of you I'm testing you play with caution or the devil's we be visiting you
Tombstone staked for Yosef's sake hope I don't break character far from an actor
Live everyday to fullest crackin' bullies spittin' shells from my toolies
Standin' alone once again listening to the rain....swang...


Verse 3
As I'm swangin in the rain thinking of thangs to be myself as a lost King dynasty still reigns
In another dimension tighten my mentality without tension pay attention to the waters glistening spirits listening tryna fill me in on what to do to separate myself from sin deep within foes pretend they down for ya to win
But really wanna see ya back bend and back then
Folks used to have your back now they quick to gat while you turn your back killer Mack's on the attack
It's the rise of inequality with no apology we lost our basic ology it's all pyschology break the scales of this new philosophy but I am the enemy
To this new world see
So I'll guess I'll continue my mission drivin' with hidden pain as I swang coastin' smooth in the rain...

I wanna swang outside swang outside swang outside in the rain
It may sound crazy but I wanna swang outside swang outside swang outside in the rain...x2


©2018 lyrics by Yosef 'The Magnificent" Amaryahu
Dylan Jun 2015
Standing in the lot,
pointer finger in the air,
praying what I've got
will help me get in there.

I'm looking for a miracle
to get to the show.
The band is incredible,
listen to them go.

My friends sold my ticket
for a tab and a ride.
Talk about wicked
and killing my vibe.

Then a man walking by
whisperin' so I could hear:
"You'll see The Dead while alive
if you take this. Here."
Gerardo Manllo May 2018
One last cup of coffee
Before the end of the week
Before I jump in this path
Before I lift my feet

You saw me
I didn't see you
I can only imagine the thrill

Heart racing
Beat pumping
Wondering if you look good
From your hair to your outfit
Thinkin' "should I say hello?"
Whisperin' "look, there he goes"
I know we're both too afraid
To let each other go

Do not worry
I know how it works
One day you'll just smile
And greet me, "hello"
I'm not sure how
I'm not sure why
But that's all it takes
For my girl to come back.
16/5/18
Monroe, Monroe, Monroe—
Frisky horses in the glade—
Variegated flowers there grow
In pulchritude never to vade.

Monroe, Monroe, Monroe—
Beauteous soaring olden trees
Whose leaves wherever you go
Whisper Monroe in the breeze.

Monroe, Monroe, Monroe—
Chirping birds in the vales
That sing merry notes not sorrow
Whilst reeling off olden tales.

Monroe, Monroe, Monroe—
Opalescent clouds there waltz
In splendiferous coats all aglow
In hues of mulberry and topaz.

Monroe, Monroe, Monroe—
Whisperin’ enchanted glassy rills
Without care like the hunter’s arrow
Peregrinate beneath rolling hills.

Monroe, Monroe, Monroe—
Many a sequestered strange bush
Whose hinds in fresh numbers as roe
Gallivant to churring of many a Thrush.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros.
May/14th/2021. Evergreen State.
Upon sojourning to Monroe, a place about 100 miles or so from where I dost dwell, I feasted about ethereal pulchritude that compelled poetry ink to ooze from a quill of mine  once again. For being a lone traveler, I could hardly stop and capture all that pulchritude with my camera so I decided to paint with words what I beheld. Hope this little poem transports thee to the beauteous land of Monroe in the Evergreen State.
Yo I wasn't,
Meant to fall from heaven,
Got blessed with war veterans,
There I am again,
Facing the cold cuts of the winds,
Whisperin,
Careless I just sit back,
And let my rillo caress,
Lay my head, between my wife's
Breast,
Reminscing the best,
Time we had, I'm glad,
My years on earth was golden,
Lost seed chosen,
To try to save the world,
Too many boys and girls,
Y'all can have the pearl,
Blacks the new hate,
Whites the new delegate,
Old news, bumped
Out the crate,
Racial division, I see the vision,
Once I found my decision,
Picked wrong over right,
Darkness over the light,
Melanin survivor, soul diver,
Spin wiser than MyGyver
Who's liver,
With the shells I spit, I shook
Up the whole nation,
Saw the sun and moon,
On different rotations,
One side is cold, the other side
Is hot and bold,
Emotions on a roller coastin,
The hearts of men,
Can't break the vision, I see myself living,
In a dream,
Only to wake up, I'm dead fool,
Now I got rouge as my make up,





The crossovers lovely,
Now I see my family,
Tears and hugging me,
Over my casket,
But I feel no pleas,
My souls empty,
Got tempted to come back,
To the scenery,
As a baby,
Why curse my seed,
And add to the bleed,
See different versions of me,
In this old age society,
Quietly,
I sit in the corner, thinking who
Hearing me,
These dreams feel so vividly,
My wife ain't even next to me,
Half dead half alive,
How can I thrive,
And find ways to survive,
These everyday jives,
Don't wanna cause no harm,
embraced the fifth dimension charm,
Carry pain on my arm,
Ring the alarm,
Spirits in every direction, can't
Find no protection,
My souls open, wasted and potent,
Hate loves the company,
And misery,
Spread all over the globe,
Check the fiery abode,
Ain't no love no more,
Too much grief to the heal,
The restore,
I sit on the surface core,
Dwelling the star lines, feel my heart
On a flat line,
Back to the first line, double vision,
Can't see the incision,
I'm dead fool, just remember you're nobody til somebody, kills you,
Beauteous clouds hang upon the sinking deep,
    Ineffably in coats with no stain upon ‘em seen.
Susurrus zephyrs evermore chime and sweep,
  Through leaves bedight in hues of golden green.

Susurrus leaves rhythmically sway and sway
     To the susurration of the wild blue yonder.
Fugacious clouds enrich every fading day
     In opalescent hues upon heaven’s shore.

Salubrious flowers waft ethereal scent upon air,
  A scent of Elysium on earth, a scent of loveliness.
Lugubrious seas call it a soothing balm so fair,
  And softly whisper comely olden tales of the seas.

Splendiferous olden golden hills roll evermore,
  Wanderin’ olden rills peregrinate here and there,
Whilst whisperin’ euphonious murmurs of yore;
  Such—such mellifluous music unto a naked ear.

In the emerald state, upon every river bank
   There groweth exquisite merry flowers of gold,
All flowers of novelty beauty—all wild and rank.
  In the emerald state—pulchritude is all to behold.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Evergreen State, August 16th 2020.
P.S
The sublime nature of the Evergreen state hath compelled poetry ink to ooze from my quill once again. For in the evergreen state, if pulchritude be a river, then pulchritude there is in full spate. Hope thou hast enjoyed my ode.

I wholeheartedly dedicate this poem unto all folks of the Evergreen State for keeping her so beautiful by planting exquisite flowers everywhere and preserving her nature. What really took me so long to cross over to the PNW Lol?So much beauty here that many a time mine eyes dost slaver with ecstasy.❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Yo my pistols lyrics stay smokin' like Yosemite once someone hands me
A microphone on the throne I stand alone looking for beats to bone
Y'all finna phone home once I lay the cyclone
Lyrics of fury I bury all even the grand jury
Couldnt reach a decision my vision is an unlimited precision see what ya missin' the flows still whisperin'
Behind the neck of an unconscious
Feelin' drillin'
Attitude like Krillin give you a rush of adrenaline
Calm em down like riddelin then the killin' begins
Soaked in ya blood cells from these lyrical shells it ain't hard to tell
I can smell
Blood from miles away it's doomsday once they try to stay
My tactics guarded deeply hearted fools scared to finish once they started my rhymes parted
The red seas deadly as moses holding up heavens secrecy
Ain't no enemy stoppin' me or my epiphany
Come and see these bullets will leave ya sleepin' eternally
Born as a desert bird black hearse sheppard
Far from the Lord most largely ignored
Went back to the drawing boards for my vocal chords light up ya spinal chords
A rappin' Moor sickamore flow blows like satchmo
Off of the roof tops tops drops cashed stocks
No bail bonds once im locked on
These bars crash a galaxy stars Mars
To earth see my girth and my true worth
Infinite word to the dark senate independent
Fools hate to see me spin it winded
Out my opponents exposed to an exponent
Who want it taunt it my guns blazin' horrors to the top of the auroras
Flashback relapse ya life collapse
Perhaps you need to take precaution
I cause exhaustion when I breath in oxygen
Injectin' cold carcinogen sippin' gins
Golden boy dojo this ain't taebo **
Let me show you how to flip this dough
P cooked this beat so now it's time to eat
Greet melanin's activated from the obsolete
Black mind's that didn't get to speak
Flowin' up **** creek watchin' for the Meeks
Inherit the earth four corners spread
Imagine all the thorough heads shed-ding
Bloodshed black Genghis these fools singers
Become mock birds once we measure the stingers


Welcome to danger!!!!! Twilight!!





Boomeranging Halle berries yo its kind of scary
Everyday i pace back and forth close to the cemetery
That's my true friend ultimate perdition
I'm tryna find something to believe in lies within
Self learn wisdom yo that's real wealth
Guarded by the spiritual stealths left welts
On the back of my black dot check my plots
Slave descendant rocking drums crescent
Shining once i supper the moons elegance
My presence alone even make demons tense
Silver rings left by the side of my left cheeks
Washing the silent tears that try to speak
They don't want no beef with the Indian chief
Smokin' irons like pipe pieces feces increases
Now you drippin' soon to be sky trippin' rippin'
Through the ozone cosmos daydreams
Found my team once I learn to scheme cycling
Ponzi cool az The Fonzi grandson to Bumpy
Johnson watch the clouts gain pain strains
Even the biggest giants David to Galliaths
See how serious war paths can get you hit
Dont let your emotions send you a free trip
Check the African tip spears thrown out the atmosphere
Split the hemisphere
Parted the windy ways that sways cardinal obeys
Its the order of nature
Says met up with the mystic gryphon liftin'
Gave me an invisible crown whisperin'
How to operate my enemies drag em to their knees
Holdin' a sword over their vocal chords
Ack-nowledge the brother with over a thousand Lords



Welcome to danger!!! twilight!
Qualyxian Quest Dec 2022
Solitude then sleep
Our life does not cohere
Chaos cousin creeps
A- whisperin' in my ear

Coulda been a shaman
Now I'm just bipolar
The American Abyss
So I'm a bipolar roller

Maybe death ain't so bad
The Fat Lady sings
The beautiful lady remembers
I fly to her with wings

              Ancient things

— The End —