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When the day comes
That my light leaves
And I go to descend
What ever will they do with me
All the way down there
Where fire pours like rain
Main population: pain
The one place
in the earth,
sure to drive you insane
I suppose they would start normally
With pitchforks
And burns
But what ever would they do,
When those things just dont work?
I suppose they'd try to drown me
In magma
Or flames
But when that smile
forms across face
They'll see
I like the pain
So this might go on for centuries
They'd try as well
To hurt my mind
But when all they find is numbness
Well
I might get hired
CK Baker Jan 2017
leg on the table
you red face recruit!
put on the offensive
and break down
the bolted door
you are the soul saver
the peddle maker
the calibrator
with colored handbills
and front line
rhetoric

join the masquerade
in ivy league style!
politicking with
cunning guile
invisalign smile
blackened vile
bleeding the funnel
with gold plate omegas
and crocodile shoes

get on stage
and dance you fool!
you are the headline maker
the pantomime juggler
the compromised closer
pull out that 5 page review
(bullet points only please)
and polish those weathered lines

did you give it your all?
the door tags
and candies
the tidings
and clippings
the irrevocable claims
and postured blames
all the impressionable basics
put to the test?

you know the call
(straight from
those cold academics)
the pie chart gurus
and contract killers
(complete with bone in finger)
whipping their
frenzied crew
in an all night
charade

old yellar
and the gatekeeper
sure seem amused
(sharpening their inquest
behind closed doors)
firing up the **** storm
with hostile ******
and a slew
of insatiable
cures

there’s laughter from the back room:
the dripping nose
and wavering hand
the cut white lines
and checkpoint tales
the pipeline romance
and lacking form
(of a basic essential
character!)

soundboard
and narratives
for logging time
slouching on the
steel case
over moot points
ready to play
the 3 weight
butter card
(if need be)

might I remind you
it’s only an inquiry
(with a slight hint of concern)
surely no
malfeasance
or deception intended
so step back from
the melt down
and cut to the chase!

headlines to breadlines
penthouse to outhouse
those immoral pursuits
have taken their toll
(haven’t they?)
madman or rogue
(you take your pick)
for the scores
and tabulations
are final

shame on you
for the foul play
the bold hypocrisy
and order desk games
the back stabbing blames
and spurious names
just sign on the dotted line...
this banter
is killing me
patty m Dec 2014
Wool-gatherers work
wordlessly,
while worry worms
whisper wraith-like warnings.
Whitchery's wellspring weaves webs
welcoming wildness when
wolfishness wheedles wantonly

Wildness warrants wrath
when worship wards-off wicked whims,
weakening will with waffled words

Who's watching, waiting, weeping,
weathered white when
Wednesday's weighty willfulness
withers?

Wounded woman,
we'll walk westward,
winding wave-like
within white-gold wildwood
whispering wintergreen wishes.
Wake-up, why withdraw,
when words well-intentioned wound?
Willows weep, wisteria wrapped
with wild-oak watching woodenly.
***
Ilion gray Nov 2014
I have sat on my rooftop,
Smoking slowly in lower mid-heaven
Watching the meandering march of workers stalk
Across the land, a cigarette,
Cold fingers,
a spine of smoke rising,
rolling over
My knuckles,
Then dancing in the ever
with the holy unseen
Offspring of anguish
and gut strings,
Chopin,
E minor No.4,
A song of boots
Stamping upon stone,
Shouting voices
Jousting
with the echos of dawn,
A war of decibels
Amid narrow rows,
walls and windows,
an unknown world beneath,
Shadows thrown between brownstones
in the ghetto.
Too many feet traveling
On this spinning stone,
Sabotage the salvation of silence
And steal the golden solitude of the sun.
The old white man winter,
Has gone, and never again will he come..
It is always summer here,
By the sea,
below clouds that are not free, but bound by
The heavens...
In this city,
All the light is connected,
Controlled, switches and grids fenced in by fields of steel.
there are no light bearers Here
There are no saviors
No talk of better days-
Just myriads of souls in search of signals,
Unaware of themselves and untamed.
Just Maria Aug 1
I get up in the morning
Ride the bus to work
Hoping it'll be on time today
Cause my boss a real ****

I sit at my desk
In front of a computer screen
I'm already getting ***** looks
From patients waiting to be seen

Do this and that all at the same time
I spend the day multitasking
When will I get a break
That's what I keep asking

Well at least I have job
And money has to be made
Cause come the first of the month
The rent has got to be paid
For all you daily grinders... I feel ya
Kate G Sep 2017
Faces that pass along in the stuffy summer night
See right through me
Though I fight to be seen, to be noticed
Acknowledged as a living breathing entity
I walk along, waiting to be picked up for a second
Inspected for usefulness
And put down again
Expiring my helpfulness again and again

And then I see the shining ray of glory
She steps through the crowd of gray
And addresses me by name
And I lead her down winding paths of Gold and Silver
And she kisses me with her eyes
She makes love to me with her words
I feel her in every depth within me

And then she's gone
Leaving a vacancy in my soul.
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