Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Bones are brittle to the touch I dont worship the sycophant in you
Your logical extensions I see past your lies You claim the ownership Of all factual knowledge And ignore the systematized analysis Born on a bad day Tucked beneath a scream Your wire-framed perfectionism Coffin nails and butcher knives The edges of forgiveness Is beyond your reach On the edge of the coffee table Next to razor and mirror Your reflection is a smear Mixed with your tears You are a fucking flat line No more beeps
To entertain us You want me to love To always be there for you Even when you know I am the chill in your bones The crawling up your spine A venomous bite to the back of your neck I am the madness that grips you When you are alone 2010
Goodbye Lenin
All brothers and sisters Aluminum foil Red little pills They are outcasts Collecting them all Into my arms Holding them Being them Wanting to bleed like they do Shoving all the little honors
Putting me in jail For nothing For being human Falling for the shit Loading my guns And feeding the fires Chuckling behind their backs God knows how long With caves beneath A Japanese lady in reverse She is under the gun Moaning in the tangled Consuming the rage Another angry pain As you rush to the finish Your wish is to find salvation there Fearing the alone The time spent with self You call the most horrible It is when the demons come to pick at your bones Just like your mother It was here who initiated you Into this world of corruption Your world of feeling 8
And writing poems about mans fall Puts her chips all on black The redundancy of negativity Seeps through the pores of her skin Her first beach house She wanted high upon a hill To look over the turbulence A physical reminder Of existence Saying hello to the ladies As they pass by Baskets full of turpitude Her hopes have stopped being mine A long time ago I marvel as she fathoms Multiple realities Built by your Betty Crocker cookbook At opposite ends of the cord Lacing your feelings with an opportunistic spine 9
And wrap you in leather We have both seen the wicked street ballet Only I stood for the ovation 2010 This poem was previously published in Burning Wood.
It is impossible For us to know This thing you call natural law In our nakedness, we have Learned subjectivity And became a slave to ideology Being trained to work in the factory You ring the bell And never question The sweetness of the tone In order to understand you We have to make reference to the herd The interpreter has no place in the interpretation This is where you beat us over the head With your meritocracy 10
We are all equal Equally oppressed By the mind numbing tone Of your bell Ring it louder Let the world hear How well you have become a soldier For the corporate cause Unstable foundations See how you bleed red, white, and blue You never ask the questions That needs answers You keep running the race That cant be won Because to win Would mean you have admitted to defeat And to do that Would mean the end of your world 2010
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By the blue and green suits They placed them in a paper bag It was labeled evidence
They were fooled by your trickery Seeing the hopeless in your bloodstained carpets Thinking god was close by
If they only knew How you manufactured your secrets Snuffed out cigarettes
Old women with nightstand logistics Pushing them from spot to spot A close call with a crocodile
In the middle of your voodoo You could see it on their faces Wanting tit for tat
And a line in the mud Knowing more about tragedy Than we wanted 2010
Lost innocence
And we have all forgotten The odd protection of species being Offering only faded bones
For the echoes of lovers That once drank in your lifeblood Now they are ghosts
Strumming on your heart strings With a bottle of red wine A wilderness of nuances
Between us and them all That place of bleached conformity The way you want it to read
All the old paragraphs The force of your feelings Grow stronger overnight
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A black cat
Beneath the leaf Calcutta Yet the last stanza And a love for the opening Calm as bright emotion By chance Hitting me more often Visceral No ideas about the love How the balance is placed Against your throat How you reside in every line Thinking you can know The immersion of your veins A fissure of skeletons Beautifully done A perfect hold Upon our hearts Once more a bird And glares arrogant The earth will be covered With broken shallows 15
And the daughter of alone Seeking a mundane ecstatic Forcing the seeing No one ever Sits past dusk With stark visitations 2010
Funhouse Fundamentalism
A super hero of grace Crazed dancing vision Hanging on every word Looking for an opportunity Nothing left but the stretch To be broken And waiting for the light to go out With a bottle of whiskey Conceiving another lie Light of earth Dies a dismal death The relics and rituals of war
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Entwined with your suitcases I participate in your funhouse You drag me along With a pea coat and a pilots scarf Dismantling the romantic chapel To think instead of feel I could tell you were somewhere else Far from the chalky lines Preferring an argument to silence The gods head lying on the floor Powerless to penetrate the darkness To chisel away the stone Dubuque 2010
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Transgressing the boundaries Golden tongues Hisses and spits They have become lame and predictable
The shock wears off so easily now In a different light Jaded by the cultural forte It is nubile A genre of blurred lines
Living the legend Blaring loudly is the car horn Love that flees in the midst Toot, toot Out of control
How long for the one trick pony? Past her and past the universe Trying to defend your utopian politics Tears no longer shed
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Project 2 All politics are the same A crowded ghostly recollection Tits flopping The elite suppressing the poor
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To those who jump and spin Both are ugly and senseless Beneath the Temple of Anubis Climb high and cut
Turn me around And snickered Still haunted by the gas chambers Written with invisible ink
You mix your beliefs with a hint of strychnine Your gutter logic Drifting by the window Saving up your banana peels Thinking yourself an orange
Huge lungs and little knowledge Substantiating your chromosomal changes Filling in your back story 19
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How you got to the here and now Its all about survival and space Moisture soaked and reeking No everlasting hills I see Of idiocy Dubuque 2010
Go Tell Momma
Id tell my woman Up in the air Biting like Satan Dance before me grotesque You have a clue Catching Christ with your permutations Racing through the graveyard Not mystery, but romance Of demented labors Out once again Back against the day
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Project 2 Laughing despite ourselves Washing it away The stains of seven lives When we go away To mend the fences Sandwiched with sadness Between two pieces of bread A fragile homily Unnecessary elaborate deceptions Made to appease the saints You have made them in the halls of your mind And now they rule over you Disembodied as they are But so real against your actions They greet you with icy silence Two hands upon your breast Beating out your daily bread Driven to prove them wrong To be transformed and not simply a mirror Dubuque 2010
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But still, we will see Destination Down, down unlucky From downtown women Hard behinds She was going to school I forget the reasons Rationality and her cage The bird died long ago Ina rainstorm It overwhelmed us Just me and the cat To lose and pretend Linger in your hands Locked inside without a key Losing myself Our ideals do not dictate Over with Seduction That thins you do with your lips That intricate weave of the tongue The warmth expanding 22
Project 2 Seeking new visions Curiosities flow To fall through When I was a small boy
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Marion, IL
One Percent
Welcome to my itchy world Your luck with revolutions And bleed for the light Send it right through Begging My hands are up Counting As the wheel turns Suppressing this moment I close my eyes and fabricate Inventing new worlds No empathy in these veins The bottle is empty Scribbling the principle On the wall 23
Project 2 Being manipulated Fornicated Baptized in this misery And deception Still sending my dream To you To all of you A hit from the eternal flame 2010
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Shes in a Fifth
All over the floor As you stand against the wall Bare whirls out With cracked veins If freedom is anywhere When thoughts wander It spills out Naked as midnight Not the sad story we read in the papers Nothing left to burn Rub the genie 24
Project 2 Run the hellish howls Soon in opposite directions Endurable spirit The stars shine And then you remember They dont believe in your magic At the edge of this life By aliens I watched The wise wizard You oppose yourself You, you Of capitalism
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Their feet in Kansas Selling their soul for luxury As the TV wonders About politics and life Arguments over the economy
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Project 2 I will sing while you croak I will dance over your grave We are characters in a play Thinking of doing me wrong
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Carved by your steak knife Kill them all Knocking me down Lies to kid themselves
Like the engine of memory Meaningless with hot tongs Wrists red
Under the needle Will digest them all I will forget you (submitted to Killpoet)
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Project 2
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All these voices saying different things And baby, baby, Ill show you the way
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The angels groove upon our misfortune They cannot explain their actions
That song that never left your lips No one could look human
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(submitted to killpoet)
And war is the battle cry You misinterpreting all my signals Sometimes up-sized as nothing Clothing hope in metaphor Dimensions of expected scorn Discursive and disjointed Dying comfortably in your arms For their sense of peace From each other
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Project 2 I am desolate in the between spaces It can be seen so self-evident and clearly Learn to accept this as you must Little comfort while sinking Not shrinking in deception
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On the horns of in justice Portals of damnation seeking your soul Seated as a dreamer in the middle of the theater Send the son to the town with another gun Shooting dice against the white picket fences Slightly off kilter and this is true The acts discordant result still reels you in
To me Tremors desired Twisted and formed by human hands And now Cares upon the backs of nothing
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A strange moving substance Whiskey bottle full of worms Analyzing and making inferences And in doubt you stand there And rock and roll is what Im born to be As she hides her smile Asked me a question that I cant remember Barren and desolate face Boxed in with fright Could I see the world? Maybe, with your eyes Cursed by my crazy ways So dangerous to the unsuspecting Those who take me for granted Who underestimate, The fire in my breast The summer of my love Dipping in the net And you, coming out of the darkness Holding your shoes Let loose the laughter In the face of self-made 31
Project 2 Chains Oozing out of my side Like Sinatra His whispers turned on Without sin and evil Slashed open And paying to remember
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1982 Dearborn, Mi
(posted on poetfreak)
And a bulletin board bore, the photographs were of her face she was peaceful with a dirty mouth.
And shoves the burglar through the window and the wind howls through your bones, atomic bomb.
Cool as chaos, 32
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Etched into the oak for another, insatiable as the belly it is your madness.
Maybe in another life an old woman sculptured, produced by cutting and folding, that exists behind the smoky haze.
Shadows stand so tall, there I was trying to ghetto those sparkles like jaded beaks, tiny flickers in a sea of light.
To mete the worm whose molten rage, to their testicles, in this case you suggest to turn around and face the fireplace and turn many a corner, while the people clap and cheer. 33
Project 2
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Weeping at the romance, yes, there is a price your dirty corpse dragged through the streets by those fat and heavy garters.
Weve them, each and every one, charging and the little, clinging to my light, on with the frittered indulgences with gods fat stick in my warm hand.
Each mule with a kick and high flying hands all my actions are directed and I know to take advantage.
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Project 2 They talk about your crazy eyes no thinking minds, she wrote I found it all a little too much with no, no, no sunshine.
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Soul hungered sucking like a fucking wind, tenaciously lodged the human.
Yes, they must exist on this thing we call home where the children dance on the end of your shirtsleeves. (posted on poetfreak)
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Never plagued, ready for the movie and pages thrown into the fire.
As you sneak up from behind me, sold for a fleeting chance the worry of exact mechanisms.
Wanting us to have the right answer we all hang from the wire from fists of laughter. (posted on facebook)
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All the human events, they are short of being and the Messenger from somewhere else still bets on the enduring.
Demands that big money always shines, screaming dusk like the mad Scribner that left you alone to jostle and twist flattened by the reality of recompense.
I was late and I was sorry it wasnt anything you said although your words last forever they still ring in my ears.
Molded details in the fabric of my mind the molten metal pools like an octopus grabbing hold of the unknown, nowhere to turn 37
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But then, perhaps we will once again venture into the gloom to spark and steam out of forgotten fissures.
Another something to name, tangible abodes, they howled on their knees with sad and gray faces.
Heartless chops away, blowing life through no to me again, I know we both falling slower.
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Opulent paradise lost from your mouth Babel, you said rare un-plucked.
Turn the same of migration, would another be quite the same? (posted on all poetry)
Drowning in my pills
Too, again, like the dead, as the beast looks into us at the dawn of revolution.
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Project 2 A part of this world, and the coarse dilettante feeling stupid and contagious.
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Must run, if only you had opened the door infinite and limitless layer upon layer letting loose the wild just outside my reach.
Measured in dimes between influence and the rooms full of people serving food and drinks.
Seeing the last growing darkness into a life torn from when shallow peters out.
(posted on poetfreak)
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Project 2
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Online Artifacts
We are nearly animals, that voice has been heard once upon an ocean liner down the perpetual line away at your crutch.
Project 2 the curse of a brave soldier and rust stain on your soul.
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Bitter glitter
Drape this over my unnecessary shoulders inherit the whys and wherefores.
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All night in the submarine with wide opened eyes, in spite of everything listening for the ping. (posted on facebook)
Highly Tactile
Project 2 a long way down the road past the three headed doll.
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It is wild to even think about it, but, we do and manifold witnesses can attest our right to run right through.
Like it once did to us, on many an occasion from the ashtray to the toilet, wings as dark as gargoyle smiles.
For the lost, it was always for the lost it could never be any different, swallowed roundabout and pissed down the leg.
At least in this lifetime, this universe of darkness time we spend bullshitting each other is time that is lost, my only friend.
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Project 2 Nothing left for the scavengers to pick away and nothing left to marvel at her ass was as smooth as an axis.
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I will always remember her wagging tail blown over clamping hard down on with both hands of determination she could never be an illusion. (posted on action poetry)
Legs as the roots of trees labyrinth, name your mask summing digits.
Everything without you you climb up the mountain scorched, scorched and unbelieving.
Burning bush 45
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Come down and break your stones, water from the rock flows eternal as the sheep are betrayed.
Howl upon your walls bottomless, every single marvel being the last.
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Project 2 Twenty years in the gray fields everywhere music boil it all down for the real thing, a truth not welcome. (posted on poetfreak)
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Fierce here minutes groping for the physical, building homes behind walls and this further.
But some days hide atrocities of compassion, dramaturgical degeneration embracing the circle.
No wit, no wisdom intense puzzlement into the conversation mauling the days details 47
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The morning veil is waving those for truth and investigative reporters, the multiplicities of our possible lives an emanating break.
Working for body and soul, coiled to anything ecstasy. (posted on poetfreak)
Not a Game
Project 2
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It has been changed into a forever heart like a stone around your neck.
Asking for answers, this time nothing, nothing about it in my old Ford pickup.
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Project 2 This is how we reveal the clues transformation pounces, vodka doesnt.
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In this flesh-soaked world mooning for a window, to hang my hope out of of self, a final idea. (posted on facebook)
Many times a Hater of bombs, alone you sleep in the glass cluttered doorway as a tarsus with tarnished horns.
Carry it down to the bowels of incapacity being what it is, an invisible cord 50
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Crush the serpent, his little wiggling head digging for the other side.
Disdain for the boulevards flowing on like time, my narrow perspective hanging dead on the fence.
Higher than heaven I dream like fallen snow and feel the vultures circling in barbed plumes.
It was too perfect, of tinfoil, and and full of plentitude, dark existence.
To run for the shadows watching the legs move as she stood on the ladder with tingles 51
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It was a double dose Of forgotten civilization Running from the indestructible world
Demise ends the ignorance And you Down on the alter Legs spread Eaten by flames Just like Sister Mary 52
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On the lonely highway Down to the flux Shaking your head Wanting to save my soul
The guilt of swift execution And the slumber of darkness waits The weak and mediocre Those who catch babbles Distributing communist pamphlets
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Project 2
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But not your might and power Carrying the replicators inside Chew your meat for you, pass it back and forth Her bronze head dangles
Ignorance by the cruelty Indebted and so grateful Like the hate of a dog Never sharp
Project 2 Seeking the body Selling lies in the New Yorker Standing in the iron trenches
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The bleeder ink Bolting abhorrer Magneto world And the stupid desperate things you do
Too blind to see the truth I would pray for you, if only I could believe In something that closes the distance But, cause is not a god
It is a circumstance of random chance We did not hear When tripping was more than a metaphor While it was playing, and of course
Quick as a crickets foot And two plus two Always becomes one Yes, one (posted on poetfreak) 55
Project 2
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And disbelief Modern assault Back and back To the glass man Between the flame and inside Bounces back As he climbs up your tree A smile, a heartfelt smile Wasted on the tocks Crossing the over Crushed on Nina Simone She dropped Forlorn fingers In a rowboat of pavement Vibrations, making their way Across the room to you 56
Project 2 A man dies with a bullet in his head His sin was No one wants to lie in the sun Roll on As your Rome burns So little time to adjust my affairs Stepping out The first scar Wandering blade
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(posted on facebook)
A voice Wishing more like you For this gift, I feel And I see The ashen dream of the muse It crashes against me Crouching like the cat When the endings come I do a numeral 57
Project 2 And hang so in the flame With a moist charity Isolation and alienation And this thing you call clarity Killing me Kings of the future, no more Living inside your life force Your words making those devils They are nowhere Nourished death Maynard says this is necessary Occasionally they find it when they dig enough Standing in the controversy Succeeded face and tongue Of my flesh (posted on facebook)
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Project 2 It turns so hard As the rage is silenced At the doorstep The blood of the lamb Drips onto my toes Boils in the belly The shit down From LA Terms with reality Dipped naked into the blood Especially when chased down Noisy as the crowd In a bad way In the name of a forgotten poet Liberty was her name She was a wild animal Just as I left her Flirting wither destiny Never a memory And of course no angel She strips me of everything No moral compass Taking in the full drama The curls of warning
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Project 2 Tucked below the breastplate Then quick as a wink The dogs turn upon me To myself We are all pieces of the same thing Go on and on and on and on Where I do not exist With closed eyes at the dance Longing for transmutation
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(posted on facebook)
Is this what you call freedom? All the old time favorites Always until the end Walking into the sun At the moon tenacity need, lustful craving More than an animal Edge Finality is your conformity Green as the morning dew Looking defeated 60
Project 2 I am here and I am there Iced and lucky I n the end To the minus sign Like eggs in a carton Listening to the rivers song Magnified underneath tomorrow No merry song in their hearts No world of my own Out over our heads That fits you Watching the small You are something Good to eat a thousand years The dollar and one-eyed shrew A crawling torment Hammer together a different game Across the floor On her hands and knees Chasing the cockroaches away Each kiss A curious cat Gazing down upon your evil deeds Your deeds standing like a station Forget eternity, I curse I cannot leave My legs are frozen As I stare at her
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Project 2
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Trying to get rid and frozen and alive On the verge of disco ring Never discarding you and me Onto the trolley Digital along Standing around the keg The ground, her anger, her country The nations strange fright This calling of wills To destroy And absolutely sink The fingers of evidence The weakness of an instant
(posted on facebook)
Lets have a real fire In a multi-causal world Locked in front of me Longing for the robe of immortality And mouthing the blues 62
Project 2 Next to your still-born dream There is no solution At flamboyant soothing As I pry open your mouth Setting the apartment on fire Silkworms working their magic That gave you meaning The shore, the horizon The slight flicker The small tinkling whisper Tossed into the foam Where the ignorant rule Your cup of tea has grown cold and Tasteless (posted on facebook)
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Mob rule
Human pressure After the rain It grabs you Listen to the angel headed whispers Betrayed by your recollection Burned as a druid 63
Project 2 Choose not to look away Its all we know Life so high Slips in bedside you Coiled to the automatic Proclaiming the one night shifts Pulling off the door Subclasses and army fatigues The carnal hose of the soul Losing someone Tottering and coming after (posted on facebook)
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I know I get you reeling Keeping it all in As the next day Heading into the storm Consumer as the artist For the phantasmal Fragmentation From someplace else 64
Project 2 I want to hear you say yes In the grass Of our complexity My body stable, unlucky thin No divine interventions Onto the floor Once again Seeking artistic love, unconditional Spun by a demented devil That is the color I see in my dreams Your smile Chirping for the sullen The wheel of lust To this final purpose Watching me move Yes, I know (posted on facebook)
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You never had the taste Betaking the seal Running down these monuments 65
Project 2 Of flesh and deeper night Escape not eternity Ever smaller Down to the river I take you there To wash you in the water Holding you down Behind the eyes of twisted birth Obscure instincts, opiates and narcotics Oh that eye It sees the point of influence Ready for the flight Standing in a trance They are gone To stand upon impoverished soil Turning with it You search with your own hemisphere
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Project 2
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About the love of venom Answers given But, there is desire Feeling like a tormented cry Fluid grateful specter Giving you the message A rock above the tides I would if I could Ferocious artifacts Leaving the solid place Marinated in the would be No matter when Nothingness permeates the threat The empty wasteland of nothing The innocence of her laugh It goes hand and hand Violating societys boundaries Watching the sparks fly From rooftop to rooftop When I touch your lips With big Wall Street hands 1967 on a bus to Albuquerque (posted on facebook) 67
Project 2
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Another delimit Destructive attachment Wobbly and sick Joining us in Marrakech For the weekend
Naked in the Kasbah Huddled in the corners Admiring my marvelous torso To the end of the tether It became clear that there was no point Old shit again
In the morning of our draining hopes She was in tears Once she made up her mind 68
Project 2 Bored through with the wind Calling out my name This raging memory drools Bodies immortal
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For some girls Working on the stitch In your kiss It was warm And outgripping repentance Like the wandering blind man Little turnips of time Luscious deceptive reason
Of the lights Slowly choked from our lives Slung across our shoulders Burning fires of many words There is more to your theory Throw them in Like two massive black holes
Project 2 With big blue eyes And a dusty bottom From the cry of savage angels
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Anarchist Intelligences
The beauty of the past The individual from The pirate nation Pretending to be karma kings Kamikaze kings Speaking in dysfunction tongues A friendly second To forget everything On your cocaine binge Pretending to be a neither heart Sleep tonight in your freedom The book of revolution The terrain of meaning Breathing in the darkness 70
Project 2 Worms falling of Of our bright dreams of disillusion Among the anarchists Disappeared in the fog As the curtains burn Play your fiddle While I dance a jig A celebration Of new tomorrows
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Altered sensations Another hungry wolf As she sits atop the rocking horse Between word and meaning Done in by the wicked and diabolical Every prayer is a bullet 71
Project 2 Extract the last once of profit From every believer They are fixed before the cold Forget next week while we all burn Heartless as a molecule Into the blazing furnace It makes me feel so free To know that you have no respect Putting yourself on the firing line Shades, shoes, and suntan lotion She frowns loosely Holding on to something wrong Spending the night, once more That color I do remember As it trickled out your mouth Like the thread of a song Tough and invincible Waiting for the universe Great suicidal dramas
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Project 2
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A little more each and every day Clenched fists rising higher
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Project 2 Through the storms and hurricanes Upstairs in our small room
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Project 2
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Summertime 1978
(posted on poetfreak)
Handkerchiefs wave Over my head Hopeful constitution A philosophers rant And build we must From the cover of light Braving I am sure of your altered position In the hollow of flesh No matter how you sweeten A pound is still a pound Of struggling over remembrances You scorn the crime Simple and obnoxious Like the smell of aroma Staccato splattered wind 77
Project 2 The alienated man stands on the street smoking He is the ambassador of loss And the darkness hides His reasons for disbelief But, they are still true To refuse a guest Walking in anothers footprints We are both With thunder and lightning Expendable
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I bent you Like my needle Eating your fingers Listening to Jimmy Reed 78
Project 2 While you paint the human tragedy Your strokes burning into me Like your fluorescent eyes Searching deep inside my soul As you blend my colors Wanting to touch upon something more And I gave it to you freely Like an apocryphal reading Complete with angels and demons Living so close to Lafayette street So much more than flesh fulfilled desire Speaking the delta blues Dusting my broom Keefs on the Victorian binge My body is your canvas And you turn me into an abstraction Adjusting your smock Your fingers through the war Push them in groups of four Incomplete flesh upon the wall It hangs there like smoldering liquid It consumes a lifetime Like a dream or movie But, not dreaming
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Project 2 Blowing cold, then hot Peeking into your bag Saying no to the matchmaker To me with loyal passion That wonderful little dress The point of one Becomes two As you paint me into your life I am a vivid color That you never saw before Difficulty is in the freedom Turning the juice into wine And you waited for me To return from the bowels of the earth The trapped animal freed I couldnt see past my erection than Immortal as the land And you rumbled and predicted As they fluttered about you Your terrible look That ignites my groove
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Project 2
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You see more Than the lips Under the feet of trouble With the tapping toe Dipped in perfection
With a mask on my mind I speak your name Along the floor and down the hall With a drink in my hand A plan hatches inside
Never accepting the eviction Aristotles lament Against the fence Beyond the normal limits
Both are love and peace Convicted by his lack of tears Stardust from another life 81
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So deeply fundamental As the frost melts to brilliance Under the door As we wear our dangerousness And watch it al burn down
1997 Lawrence, NJ
(posted on poetfreak)
Biochemistry of Aging
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Project 2 Blind hope planted Bound to the exile Chasing your demons
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Freedom is like that But only for the brave Those who ignore the polite
(posted on poetfreak)
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Project 2
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To the unknown Wakes from slumber The beast growls With the voice of a flood Tired bones interpret All gather moss The seriousness of libel and slander They enter from unknown places Today my love While somewhere else Intoxication Ask me my love Im beyond the ordained limits Burning a hole in my pocket Digging up the long forgotten Fanfares and banners Held high on poles Fenris in the garden Fondles my thoughts Half drunk 84
Project 2 Half to Satan How they both wear their fedoras I am feeding you olives and turn back upon myself I would end it all And rot like bees Laid vertically across And pushing the worms Never on this road Never craving the evil No one can find me Old bones past The windows and shadows To the papers Naked in the wind Storing up the few The days of missing Sucking up the pain This dead planet still spins The stars They see you
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(posted on poetfreak) 85
Project 2
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On the great high wire Alive and not through We got a piece And hit across the sky Attacking with fervor And burning the luminous Falling forever through the darkness The cause of indifferent lifetimes It changed the whole Almost invisible in your heart Beating Into bloody waters, into holes Lost spells Sitting an watching Now a grizzled heaven and hell Wait till the starship Flees across your goodbyes To all the beautiful people Leaning into the sinking ground It cant hold the pressure 86
Project 2 Of change This alien structure Inherited by those Who howl inside To care is like trying Transfigured Longing made in newness Unfolding Even without a poison apple
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Unbearable lightness
All beginnings have an end All spit and polish As you walk through green cracks Calling up the ashes 87
Project 2 Children of the broken man Enhancing the condition He sad lonely soul Kept throwing the monster through the window Sitting next to the professor Her beer in a fancy glass The becoming again beckons Of absolute desire It stands before us The writing on the wall And the bells rings She salivates like a dog Thieves and scoundrels Shouting for the head of the king Keeping all the clippings Six dozen roses sent Armageddon, its gotten
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The Park
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Project 2 At the wall Square Stands a statue A burning ledge of bone Broken into the moment Freedom is not your choosing You might ask If Im in a forgiving mood You are the fabled flea Trying to escape your master By trains and transcendental thoughts While I chop the world into bits To burn upon your fires Keeping you warm Leave them in the fields The poppy fields Harvesting my heroin Letting all the demons out Of drug addicts and dreams And yes, your favorite poets That is you Collecting snapshots The city slickers built the great illusion And you happily buy their shit
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Project 2 The resistance has been beaten out This is the universe I made it with my own two hands It could have been better But I was drunk at the time I spilled my seed onto this earth This thing you call home Tried so hard to find it We never find it Valuable to the point of suffocation At the Dixie hotel Distended heart It once throbbed for you Now it lies dead in a bowl
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Project 2 Humble modern dead Of a human fit for life There is none I know the pill is hard to swallow Setting this dream free Stacking themselves Stopping for nothing In her bathing suit Outside themselves Wading in knee deep Consider the quality With your gas can and lighter Lied again about the nature Neither beast nor man A hopeless task Into the universal it
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Sister Morphine
Project 2 Curls of razor wire Taking away With the little twitch Gnostic decimals I am singing Signaling others To come and drink From the spout By box cutter Infinity will bring her friends She never ever sleeps To bust bringing your sunshine In a small green bottle Power is ticking in slow motion And words seem garbled Into you There is focus to your fire Take the devil He moves his lips But, we dont listen to him any more No longer a force More a fiction To coax the money from your hand And give it to the unworthy
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Project 2
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Counting all the piercings Endless Failure feeds my aching pain For driving blindfolded To your execution Holding each others hand I need an easy friend Like a couple of snakes Look up and see Misread interpretations Hieroglyphics No one wants to consider Remember your panties Serrated blade The loaves and the fishes The biggest dog It was a paradox 93
Project 2 Flying into the face A stroke that hit the mark Pyrotechnics Once we had it down Its what you get Even the high rollers Betting on your misfortunes Through the mill one more time Belonging to yesterday She belongs The obvious odd one out Put in the background The only shot A sense of doom Running out your stockings Worming its way in To your heart And soul Full of potential For two and a half years Then you are gone 2008 Memphis, TN (posted on poetfreak)
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Adrift in the night sky New adventures bring Below divinity Over confident Cursed by the intangible Charismatic deeper Her smile suggests A vipers den In a voice that made me tremble Filtered through Numbed too much On your thinking Like a maniac Of white shirts One for another Sneaked out lifting There are differences And we both lie Wondering how to behave You want to hear Your legs 95
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It rots away your moral fiber Makes you a slave to the status
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Dubuque 2008
(posted on facebook)
Impetus
Blew like suffering I over with the heartless Their limits are not my own This is all deluded freedom 97
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Flowing and forgotten How much you love If you really were human Then I could once again believe In love
My anticipation Of your fumbling confession The words into the ear Then you walk across the water As if nothing ever happened
Just to hear you speak Wanting a heart of enthusiasm Peering into me The madness of the mouth
We start with the body And the animal Mixing more soul than necessary To amend for our past wrongs
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Project 2 Scribbles of destiny Placed onto my heart They do not add up Under the impetus of love
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Silence in this heart As lost inside Brewing with the cast out memories Reemerging all your suicide attempts
Unpredictable change, it fears you Elemental rumors of meanings laments Youre feeding on the no touching ground
Interpretive skies and how they rebuild you From all the ashes in the little pile Into the jumble and in the rooms out Ever innocent as your favorite piece
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Project 2 No reason to close on this platform Removing and being unstuck The wood and iron they are against In their ghost and a quick glance
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Another blue ghetto girl Pumping like a monster Coming in from the storm Among the angelic horde
Putting your hands upon my face Returning to my fate, again and a game Another collection of skin It hangs upon the bones of my nakedness
Under my eyes The shadows of my soul Out as it only can Manufactured by a generation of secrets In the walls of my feelings
Pulling myself out of your question My names for your darkness Calling out to you as a new found madness 100
101
Crawling out of the ruins Talking with my bloody limbs Into your sleeping womb A periphery of my hemispheres
A blueprint of porous words Selling your forgiveness tickets We all want to see the show Turning to the left sleeping dog
Mowing it under as siblings flinging mud Ethics moving me away as a massive moving animal Leading with my heart smashing daylight Just to feel alive and finding it abandoned (posted on poetfreak)
Project 2 Always something you cannot see Sniffing the exhausts of passing cars Your concrete island
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You still believe in czarist revolutions Painting it black It becomes difficult to tell them apart You pet the head of rat named Utopia You feed her drunken erections
Getting paid for your hallucinations A political advisor A periodic ritualized murderer The darkness outside my body Selling your blood to the zombies
Tabloid dreams, too dark to see Waking screams on the parade route What could you do? She had more pills than money And nothing but the blood
Throwing out one outrageous thesis after another Inventing the distinction between reasonableness and rationality 102
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Cue the tambourines Its a little bit too late now You think you are an inventor Collecting followers
Smoking on strangers dreams Placing your chips on economic collapse Is it red or black? Building your alternative anti-capitalist economy
Making pelts from vodka bottles Cursing the internet Misplacing your cigarettes In someone elses home
They wont let you in Even though you are empty handed Smelling like an atrocity Always an atrocity (posted on Action Poetry)
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Even if we cant see it Still there is windswept wildfire Moving faster and faster Folded feeling floating past my window Working against us and keeping time
I do think you fit this shoe Tied to the pole and making us choose Spilling into the streets Like the little child Chasing the wrong and the right
Crouching on your hands and knees A burning general feeling Comes over you Remembered colors
Reaping and repeating, in the belly Round lighted empty, if we were alive Safe and sound, trapped in a cage Saluted epics on fire 104
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Slay me with a waking dream As I run through the labyrinth Chasing the thieves, and you on top of me Honeymoon flesh, tossing me like a fire ball
The magic was near, a few hundred feet above us Coming closer and closer, only when I am with you I could see the skin trembling, turning the rocks to ash Tissue and tissue, wanting to be rendered
Setting down the refusal and concrete nouns Trafficking in the screams of victims ejaculations Vivid before my eyes, at the end of the beast The walls seemed to be a live An existence beyond my own (posted on all poetry)
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Biting and wicked, breathing in the piercings and drips the third time is always a charm.
You are driving the bone building worlds from my flesh so delightfully dark.
Panting and heaving trying to hold in back for one minute more.
For time immortal I would turn you immortal, rough and tumble.
Head struggle plans to be more like history time and again. 106
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Placing god back into his corner where all malcontents belong, a wistful shoulder.
(posted on facebook)
Hieroglyphics Pam
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Electronic Disharmony
Project 2 of frequent un-expression abbreviated and stunted watch the flash and flicker.
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Preferring immediate gratification feeling disenfranchised to touch to feel to live its a gas.
Addicted to the viral world turn on and tune out it has such a new meaning never before imagined.
Trying to stop a tsunami instant gratification wandering in the heart at the intersection.
110
Taking a limb rigor and discipline rotor blades slicing and dicing.
Left to your own devices between real world demands. (posted on action poetry)
Exhaustive Fingers
Dont remember exactly it pours into my zone modernity observers mind. 110
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Shivered saxophone cry against my skin and the zeal of industry. (posted on all poetry)
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Project 2 Trembling with a social disorder ill-conceived dysfunction is anywhere I look flowers thrown into the pits of fire. I am hurting with a numbness inherited.
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In the thousand boxes of jingles, melting into all of your favorite lies. The parting veil still stands between us.
The plowman comes in the night, like the thieves of your town. No light in this street to pretend on magic.
Trapped in the walls, a different future seeks both you and me. (posted on facebook)
Sordid details
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Delayed is the striptease everything with shut eyes spiritual desolation followers to a crusty idea.
From religion to rationality from the back row with big lovers my scars screaming tossing large ideas, like grenades.
Gored and dethroned using the drink, of her in darkness for miles shattered words in the flagged sky.
It all came out, and feeling nothing on the fence, riding the bull love is no more the newspaper says, 113
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Not lacking volume in the tickles rendering the soul of a charmer this side of the knife, blameless as the phone rings has become your home in my pants. (posted on all poetry)
Misplaced Veneration
And things we do well as lost luggage in this artificial world with the first touch. All is manifestation and happy ways wanting me to keep the door open clouded and distorted, against the sky.
Nowhere to score as the world is turned off, a choice I would not have chosen saying something. From my mouth to yours passing through the mind sitting there with stoned eyes mundane and lateral meaning anything.
Project 2 one more silver dollar to love. To the fire inside me, moving train the hallway lights flicker she is of the crow of my gaze.
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The mouth of the wicked world fallen brown an old dream inside me quivering without background. Stolen reed in the Sundays yellow blowing out the smoke wanting to assert self with genitals.
You waggle war crashed into yourself like only you can in other peoples lives. A cowboy in a borrowed hat with a dead pan gaze a snow covered table with a torn Knicks t-shirt and high stakes.
The dilapidated trailer in the woods fence post waving running up your leg. A useless mailbox with only one right answer with a joint behind my ear my torn sleeve of the girl inside.
Project 2 in solid isolation and does not tremble. On with the silence of the highway watching my throat four points of time human stain. (posted on action poetry)
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As strong as unleashed piece of dead skin awaken the elders happening to limbo, they are sure to take the goat in the snow to all that belongs to the eternity of seven blackbirds.
Holding close to the heart the songs from the cave the blood red pomegranate drips reflexive holding it as something precious as to marketing it doesnt matter why you cry cold sabers. It is why I sing to these lonely hills, old albatross
it is for the dying laughing to herself, made for nightmares and mens silence. Nothing sanctified in this dirt hole, hatred edged like your dull blade.
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Project 2 Someone to lose the minimalist hero and the melted resistance of potato salad. The cold stiff lies upon the slab, sissy pants the colors come and go if you dont go crazy, without true words under sleep of an octopus.
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They are green with the secret somewhere else, this hell is our making, the new fire of mortals to ride the wire paling tricks. The shores a little wider as the pieces of bone agreeing with the threat of capitalism. (submitted to gloom cupboard)
Empty your heart of its moral dream in the hot morning obsession. 117
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We cannot count the steps disappeared into the volcanoes. (submitted to gloom cupboard)
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Been sick for days, got the feeling. attitude, convinced about something.
Dialed the digits I am the fingers of my hand I dont care what you think unless its about me.
Rejoined by the bell curve the soul swells stay the course, my battle cry.
Tangled among the roots that is freedom, like the wind 120
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For any real moment of time transferring assets, while writing here my songs.
With the absolute heart of the poem, of life, out of their bodies . (submitted to gloom cupboard)
Tales of moonlight outside the studio against the smallness of the third hour and little girl freckles global warming.
And you still miss the tears of secret realms asking in a small voice toilet seat because she is never born across your ass.
That too soon evaporates into the shabby on crooked legs of sadness and doom 121
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I might just be making noise asking what you meant if only you could match this feeling something biblical inside and all-around turning in another direction.
Misfortune mocks my every step uncertainty my sugar is another persons sanctuary nervously strikes the match perfectly still.
Never making it with open hands no regret in the rooms next door removing memories from the past.
Step on them as they died there they are just like me, shot behind the hotel they blend into one haunted.
To be burnt by the flame once more with just a pocket knife to walk upon the tightrope where I once sat vague at the edges of your fiery sheets.
Watching you plant your flag alone in the night with a new-born fear and do not flinch 122
Project 2 a strange idol through gesture a little lady in high heels all twenty children. . (submitted to gloom cupboard)
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Born from the eons, born out of a wound, as they come running while the flames grow higher and the deeds of a wicked hand fall all over you.
I am forever in your debt as our hearts beating wildly, mattered with love and running from dooms helping hand.
Speaking to Becky and standing one-legged on your metaphor the flowers are shaking with hungry hate.
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Project 2 I can see it in their customs and gestures as they unroll the world, when the fight should be out it flickers up again woven into the fabric. (submitted to gloomcupboard)
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Cruel swiftness, being without shadow sprayed guts it is born of tenacity are we creating god in her hands?
Placed upon my eyes, blackest rain machine gun afternoon table darkly what is the point of this creation, holding my balls?
Firm brisk strokes bones bare and stained unhappy bitter from dragging them around smothered by the last once of bullshit. 124
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From man to mountain, by the stillness of the woods dropped dead her inner thing round withered sweeps a dancing bear.
Her house burned down these roots are all mine upon this earth, in a smoky haze of finality pulling back the dark and up over their heads.
Into the world of chaos, common lives with petty crimes lucky numbers knee deep in bloody valentines thats loose and running both girls smiled.
As I light the fuse, eyes aimed full bore at your heart, I am speechless at night, I saw her old enough to slice the tomatoes.
One winter in Harvard square grants and leases on promises these faces pretend. 125
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Bleakly shaking loose inhale the clattered dream, flashing motel sign, and striking me now aimed at the nameless one up and down the street.
The summer of 79 muttering between teeth, Jesus saves and your mind a lethal weapon my horns pointed dreaming of movie stars.
To be trapped in some zoo remembering the cows, some smoothing and trimming of the edges and rolling away the hearts cry making you weep a reward for the street killing myself.
To my touch a woman in a checkered skirt, utterly alive bending over petting the dog and craving honesty becoming a metaphor, when dishonesty was all I could find. (posted on facebook)
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Covered my darkness with your context, far ahead of the crowd, is the presence and absence.
In willfulness, you flay your feelings, pushed away as they sizzle in the pan.
Meaningless efforts, watching the flowers wilt, all for your new masters, robbing you of love.
Explosions all around us, oblique fleeting and you so eager to keep the eruption.
To complete the toil of constant flux. to follow after the propulsion as sensory degradations.
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Project 2 Stringing them together into little paradoxes, like beads that melt under pressure.
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To shoot down this enemy and participate in the unknown, walking into you is the major thrust.
When it all broke open, out spilled the isolation reminding us of the injustice found in the hearts of desperation .
Folding them into napkins across your romantic table and pushing them away from the center.
We want distance to work for us as does the hermaphrodite, just this once willing to surprise, with a passion that has no equal.
Project 2 It walks into your midnight bedroom already, much more than mere nakedness. On this blackest night, it is sexual as a corkscrew.
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She walked on, she was a cannonball exploding around me. I sat and watched the flickering light. Cantankerous devils, as it escaped into the west. Tied into a knot, you want to hang.
A lifeless doll, a refuge you could not share. Magnified motion, the faith to perfect the execution. Didnt crawl into your shells, we scratched and clawed our way through to the spoils of war.
Beating our hearts into plowshares, never having the right seeds. They died in the fields of war, the blood too poor for growth as the magic left out fingertips. We sing for joy to come our way again as it always does. Not on our time, but her own.
(submitted to Contrary)
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She is always looking for candy anywhere she can find it it doesnt matter how sweet.
Distorted faces in the windows, living in this feeble city, flopping like detentions.
Hard to coordinate, all of your mind games, the raw numbers escape me.
Her search is always on, a hunger under the skin, the demon of vermillion.
Get close enough to touch her spine, part-time white and bold rebellion, 130
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Im flipping burgers at truck stop and sleeping in an Alabama church, secrecy is your only friend as you interpret the notches, left by unknown witches.
No one to create boundaries that can hold you in place, past glories cold and shaded.
Perpetual distortion of the perceptual landscape, a state of continuous evolution, like an intense and rapid dream.
The explosion of your emergent beauty, leaves me begging for the forces of chaos, my eyes are vacant to your red and black.
Improvised heroic romances, making a jangle and radiating intense, you systematically explode the universe.
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The moon burns against the stars, unstable lines of force, from these you find such meaning and purpose.
Your mobile laments above the earth on invisible ropes, filling the vacuum with your alchemical theater.
Pointing across the ceiling, to my lost harmony, unleashing the cosmos, so full of flame.
By the time Im done classifying the shrines of lovers and developing my true blue demon, it will all become 132
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They are driven by your political dictates, efficient automata bound by duty.
Fine, have it your way, it goes on forever, relentless, unforgiving. moaning on and on.
Then, you laughed about the abduction and my own toe tag, it became a little too much, no other bond.
You have been outside my skin, your rebellious nature, all my devils surround you and you want to take them on.
Project 2 and stealing your bag of lies, there was not much to it, it is easy if you only try.
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Sons, brothers, and your lovers, they have their reasons, for lighting the fire that grows inside you.
I have been burned by you too many times, the burn unit knows me by name, they call me Charlie, I dont know why.
Thinking freedom is a hard fought thing, this always throws you down to be carried away by the next social cause.
Never resolving your freedom, you are still waiting to be slaughtered, doing what you must, still a lost and lonely child playing with matches. 134
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Squirting on the cave floor, she would rip them from my consciousness.
She touched me with such impertinence, her mind becomes a fine point. 135
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You always were the girl that got away, you did it all in the name of liberty.
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You said that you loved me, but I knew it was a lie
Crucify all those who pass through the atmosphere like meteors, to be like this once more reading your drunken prophecies with undulating panoramic eyes that sink.
Pulling a cage filled with wild beasts behind you, you tell everyone that you are putting to death the old man, living close to your round mouth.
We have painted ourselves into unopened eyes, defying all the odds with large permutations, moaning and wailing with exploring together.
Project 2 plans written on old papers about the death of hearts, stop trusting in throwing money.
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Singing the songs of old songbird s, we boiled the downward processes, they worshiped at our feet inside the demons cave, never venturing out to smell the myth of old bones.
Carved into the wise airbrushed legs, gathering their respectful distance in your skull, swimming in your hard body side by side.
Planting tulips and basil as a red heart, igniting the difference as you address all the promises, laid outside until you stop quivering.
You grew stronger as an idea, physical and visual form, this single thought asking for your name, encompassing the room and dreaming like an alien.
Stalking the larger and accidental, you kill them with your white corsage and buried them in the cold playing field.
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Taking hold of you by the sternum, no excuses for this lack of love, Tinkerbelle has left and we miss her. (posted on facebook)
You are disgustingly wicked. Waiting to take the land, 4000 years in slavery. Living in this sucking century,
with a firm hand, hard and tightening. Accepting contextual responsibility and burning your Old Testament god.
He has become domesticated, neutered actually and he has promised to die 139
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CNN will interview the witnesses after the horrific death. Your god in his suicide jacket
and you think you are saved. The promise of judgment, some runaway justice, as you spill your juice.
Prostituted grace, unfathomable bullshit, paying for nothing and receiving nothing.
A young body on the jumbotron, failing to raise the stain as you collect your check.
Reaching me with a fierce hand, transforming my matter. Into a media event, we all accept the illusion. 140
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You want my shredding all those silken words, grated through the sifter.
Leaving your water on my counter wiping your genital memories from my hard drive.
I challenge your natural presence, scatter your tea leaves into all five critical pieces.
Your species being and my praxis together they are our fundamental errors.
Project 2 according to their capacity and yours keeps growing like urbanization.
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You swallow up everything turning fields into shopping malls and when you are bored you become dense.
As if mass constricts closing in on yourself a black hole of feelings from which I can never escape it is never quite as obvious as you read in the papers. 2010 (submitted to blood orange review)
She was thick with hallow knees, hiding behind her jacket.
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She was as steady as invisible holding on to her microphone swaying back and forth.
A moonbeam catching her eye lashes, never tripping over your colored barrels, her divisions we determined by freaks.
As the explosive notes cascaded out of her, she sang with her only abandon.
Like there was everything to speak of she didnt exist in the fragmented structures of being
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And Daddy in the glass palace throwing stones, ringing her bell.
On street corners, for self disclosure as her purpose peels off the stage. (submitted to blood orange review)
With a book in her hand pretending to read never mind that she was holding it upside down.
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To hide the scars around her delicate throat, embracing the strangers who dwell in her mind.
With wet anticipation I told her to skip to the last page that dreams live on the last pages of books or so I have come to find.
Project 2 find more of her in the beginning. 2010 (submitted to blood orange review)
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Examining my strengths and weaknesses, pulling the flesh away from the bone.
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My reflexive self removed from the room the way context influences the interpretation.
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We are mediated by a causal connection, standing at a distance, objectified and under scrutiny.
You are carried out, a dynamic process. You are a flow of contexts, shifting between my fingers.
Connecting dots with a worn magic marker. Coming to know you as you are, not as a mist in the air.
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The pulse and pause of twilight, your name for erection. the wine upon your lips.
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Making incomplete claims to bind ourselves to this rock independent of our assets and power.
We examine your beliefs one by one peeling them away exposing them to the light of day.
You become frightened at the sight of this and I tell you to relax, that it is ok 150
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Barfly
You seem uncomfortable and alien as you sit there on your barstool fidgeting with your drink. Its all about the big and small,
tearing at your napkin, your never spider throat as you spin back and forth exposing and anticipating.
Relative sweep and bicker, questioning the existence of pure. Youre a galloping pony tossing your hair in the wind.
Project 2 seeing out blind windows and drinking deeply into self. You speak as one
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to the man sitting next to you as if you have separated yourself from the herd waving your fables into their faces. They see you with hungry eyes,
a visible worm, wanting to howl, to posses you at night. Buying into your marketing scheme the irresistibility of want. 2010 (Posted on blogspot)
All drained of brilliance and bad music are the ghosts. Pulled over by a cop,
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Project 2 a web of habits aligned with the universe. All that she owned, death by an amateurs hand
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dropping shooting stars. Each day exposed by your primitive behavior. Feeling the sway
of flat and dull words in the here we are now. Immortalized and burning like the blood of dreams.
sniffing out the sublime striving ambition on display. The stone-faced gambit that cant be true 153
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to hold the kudos. Who were visionary angels, a stone around your neck alive and empty. 2010 (posted on blogspot)
In the forest of daring visions, just a little longer like the crack.
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We pry it open, raise high your scavengers getting right to the point.
Project 2 hearts in barbed wire under the wartime blue. 2010 (posted on blogspot)
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In room 1019
Transitions as a man and an artist afflicted with hotel oblivion circles beneath pale eyes.
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Rode to the end of the line across from a blonde and a wide, wide open smile. 2010 (submitted to Cake Train)
Project 2 The proud can be harsh and beautiful at the same time. To tell the neighbors only in our hearts and spirits, this dogged persistence true into the soft underbelly, is light and bitter to find one of these evil ones. Embracing the sacred, I do have an affinity like twisted gnomes.
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Revealing their weakness and flipping my wig, just like my childhood days at the Piggly Wiggly floating above the room. A hunger of fate, I am no longer myself, but the product of your osmosis. 2010 (submitted to Cake Train)
The unknown frontier is a victim of distrust and the stains of injustice follow you home. From that evil thing you call a heart, haunted by demons from within.
You are the high priestess of the cult inside my brain. Like the steam from an engine, 158
Project 2 malicious and unclear. Moving on to new battles, my sweet nothing. All illusion and nothing worse,
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outside the boundaries. Praying in the dark and reminiscing about the errors. Remember, how smashed you were by absurdity?
Smell the life in its beginnings, as the fools can be seen straining their necks as they attempt the crossing of a border.
The angel beat his old ragged wings against your soul and said, there is no more. 2010 (submitted to Cake Train)
Absolutely, asking about the bruises, breaking down the barriers of silence. 159
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Exit the shadowed form, happy white pool laughing all the way. Lost in obscurity luckily the earth and not hell.
Me, actually, well, let her in for Christs sake. Nothing left to rattle, one step at a time only makes the gods
part the waters. Over the light that came forward, overcoming. She seemed so excited to share her life.
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Project 2 The next morning I would take the window, the terror of the front door, unfinished toil when you saw the dirt fly. 2010 (submitted to Cake Train)
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Dreamless
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With tainted lips, dreamless, you pray with a bullet. 2010 (submitted to Cake Train)
And they listen Neither constrained nor inhibited Sometime sin the twinkling Ignorance is still there 162
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Of null and void Scraped flesh where devils Like hell Against the Holy Ghost
Gathering data Struggling in a tomb Avoiding the former self 2010 (submitted to Cake Train)
Waiting
Sitting in Mercury lounge listening to Texas blues and waiting for the bus.
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Project 2 Ive been waiting all day long with my paper bag in my hand Im still waiting on your gypsy love.
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Waiting to hear you moan, to say my name so sweetly. Then, I can die happy,
I can die a happy man. In the whore house on the outskirts of town
I saw Jesus laying his bible down. He laid it down on your body and I saw the fire come around.
It rose up to the sky and I heard him cry for existence and the fire came down.
It came all around destroying love for the sake of thunder. It was so easy
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Project 2 to feel the love die as your lord Jesus rolled you in the ashes.
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Dont call me in the middle of the night, dont call me in the middle of the day. Call out to me,
when your faith has died and then I will fill you with the fire.
The fire from deep inside and it will come down all around you.
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The Glitterati
About your days in the west, ancient ways forced to bleed at the touching of my flesh.
You know that I can breathe new life into your madness. Your crystal ball did not foreshadow the coming of this man.
Be so careful and preserve that which is hidden. Doing and feeling all night long.
Filled full of anima, I move closer for even up. Convincing me,
that there is something more than my feet on this road as I shuffle on down 166
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means nothing to you. My heart of darkness, particles, past participles, and the dead things.
All those things you gave Satan, someday they will erect monuments to you the inventor of satiation.
The ferry man gave his advice to mark the grave so clearly. Walking naked
where not a single ear will hear, you are seriously curious. You triggered and rage,
climbing out of your circumstances. A single eye to bewitch as they stream from many hands. 167
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Awaking to the moment of self between your legs. 2010 (submitted to psychic meatloaf)
Crashing into the barriers Death doesnt always Denied power joy These discrete traits Felt even by the unwise Giving four oclock tours Guardians of the darkness They sleep In the void Large disbelief with lies Insubstantial bloody foot Only songs come from the bottom Tearing the flesh from the bone They undergo something called a spin-flip 168
Project 2 Undone and twisted Up and down Wanting you with all my heart Wax from the belly fat It boils so well When I told you that I love you Standing on the doorstep 2011 (submitted to psychic meatloaf)
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Until the noise of wheels, a lost platoon of conservatives escapes through the fools throat, then, and only then, can the demented poignancy be brought to the forefront.
Laid bare before your conscious mind, like the dropping of their weapons.
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Project 2 Their hidden agenda and late discovery, mot disturbed by twilight.
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Josie loves to stand on the threshold and wave at the Russians as they pass the grain of ugliness.
Her illuminating smile, can warm the coldest heart and bring us all out of the stone age.
Swollen, they own the creation and generation she says to throw them all away but, how can I?
To dry and crumble in the wind, With arms open wide And her wet tongue of tornado. (submitted to psychic meatloaf)
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Leaving no broken hearts only a coarse brush and the radio would sit there on the roof, staring at the blueberries on the hill.
Drawing conclusions from the unrelated, from a shinning blue ball rotating, like a mad bull with stunted horns with magazines, t-shirts, that read, ass, gas or grass.
Never thinking that none actually exists, now they are the first to crumble in the sun.
One foot forward, cautious at first some finding a green religion, and the big one carries a axe.
Cutting down the mules blue dreams, against the harness pulls and the snake swallows his tail.
Project 2 with cloven hoofs and sea serpent eyes as we drink in the old and the new.
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I watch you put your clothes on and wonder about the roundness. (submitted to psychic meatloaf)
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I know this makes you howl Its all in the tone of voice
Standing with jaw slung The sting still festers and swells
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A little something To feed the hunger An imprint DNA By heaps of stones and statues Between the two of us I will chew your meat for you And pass it back and forth Competing for gods eye All vagrant hemispheres Rattle in the unborn head To slash her own throat Who faded out in the movies Hungry and loathsome through Houston Seeking sweetened snatches of a million girls Trembling at sunset (submitted to wtf pwm) 174
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Instead of praying I watch television Reruns of brilliant eyes My mind cast upon the pavement With all of your tattoos
Separating the merchandise from your life Of our crisscrossed lives Peering into your generous ass Taking the edge off my appetite
There is nothing left outside of me I have given you everything All to heaven and beyond
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I want to burn this breath in the fire on the mountain Hidden In the nettles In this ever evolving world
My life is like the falling leaf Of dust and contrition Passionately sucking your thumb (posted on facebook)
Extract it with a sharp knife Unfixed and volatile It pries its way through A primal embrace The unreal behind me Chewing on the carcass 176
Project 2 You never had an interest on the slaughter Even when you were infected with purpose Squarely planted into the soil of terror Grounded pigments of life They pass you in effluence Each step a blue brilliance Clustered reason getting back into the box I still have this fucking sickness The ache of an agonized gospel Pulling back the covers of your disgrace Opening up the tomb Corrupted unstable cloth Dim drizzle, soggy wasteland Rubbing seldom with the world Pattered darkly crawl Tasting the fundamental harm The carnival barker shouts And you take the first gulp Time frozen by your power This coil touches the hem Knowing both darkness and truth Long grave faces To his favorite whore And tobacco stained fingers
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Project 2 Longing for the cataclysm There are no more heroes Conjuring arcane lips (posted on facebook)
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Your Secrets Discovered laying dead in a sock drawer (pulling the wool over our eyes)
The past comes around belching fire and pestilence and another cry for rebirth is quieted.
Dance to indifference you step so well as the war pigs argue over disputed and contested territories.
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Here we are now I see her she is alive with the fire moving about naked.
Nailed to the boards quenched with the blood shes bursting morals, stolen them from us your freedom for survival.
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Torrid pools when skin parts below, wholeness seeps through me and you become like the monsters of your dreams (posted on facebook)
To Her Lips
And wonder
As we dig them up Buffer and corpuscle Cast out constantly crumbling 180
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Delirious
Eviscerated bone
I lay you In the carpet In through the gaps In your house of nights Interpreting this painful corner
It happened just this morning As we learned to entwine Making the steam Never finding the meaning Of health Of life Off with the hinges
Schematic drawings and equations That leads you back To the bleak gathering of the diode 181
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Deeper I burrow into your evolution To wonder at your lust Putting my back into the garden hoe And becoming, more beautiful
You said that you were packing your bags Public parks and cemeteries A life moves forward Making you pay One token at a time
Then, it resurfaces Of the people For the people Crushed between two rocks
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Project 2 I did keep the date with you And left on the next Monday In the darkness
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In the eyes of dark looks These are hostile times Your mind like my footprints Linked by common threads Moving amidst the sleep
Running scribbles on the last day Standing before you Abandoned by your numbness
Nightmares now
Project 2 Too raw for the light of day Walking into a horizon of nothing
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Watching the freaks come off the highway Wild, wild, wild With all the hoary others With my anarchy Warm and safe Inside my pocket (posted on facebook)
Its hard sometimes Blue with slow drizzle Convinced by the ongoing Crispy like a life full of tears Dancing and singing only for effect
From a cliff Im falling down Hanging, pinned and twisted Always a dreamer 184
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Shedding the skin of time Sliding around in the slime They soar into the wonder That cavernous whirl The sly movement of whiskey
Between your lips and mine The whole bloody mess Three generations Vengeful with claws While landing to this ground
A hard determined smack And the emotions Hung out to dry They rise in the horizon The rolling of the dollar bill And up to oblivion (submitted to Robot Melon)
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The monarchs starry head That mysterious love My serious ghetto Slings blurred
The deep well The plains of central Florida The stone seeks out They all open wide Yearning blindness, total oblivion
The machinery of other skeletons They are blessed And they burn inside you
Project 2 With deep connections You make the sacrifice for love
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Mangled and torn apart The onslaught of outer world Secure in their lavish consequences
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You feed them little scraps Like the Buddha Above the horizontal mix
(posted on facebook)
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Project 2 Noticed by my oath Going through the wall With my bayonet ready
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(posted on facebook)
Project 2 Always on attack Guarding your heart Against the wind From hearing the truth And the feelings of others
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You used to be so full of wonder I have seen this before Wagging our tails As the heart still sets Like unjust profanities
Only bloody hands Or how the whiskey, wine, and song Sucks the blood from your veins
The photo synthesis While the music played You, you, you Could never be the same 192
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(posted on facebook)
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As it flies through the air Better than the world Between cause and effect
Like prisoners to the faithful Large rocks of years For the dying rage
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And dreamer of dreams Your limbs move and act upon nature
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Sparkling pure and spotless and brilliant The image of your eye
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(posted on facebook)
Unfortunately
With mortal amusement Cosmic reality never brings The hope of dignity
Project 2 of despair
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Scratched out and drilled into Steeling all my old friends Tasting the feedback That bends but never breaks
As the brave worry about their numbers And the secret wolf within Drinking of the marrow With the sweetheart bottle Wild eyes and beatings Strangled by the nakedness
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Everything is gone
(posted in Facebook)
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Seeking the path of childhood Spreading wings and flying out the window Alone, as in the beginning
Tangible as the cold fabric Draped over your silent head Dripping with transmigration
Shrieking like detectives Wanting to cry Pursued down into the chaos
Stopped in my ears The corruption of the weak And the neighborhood stranger
There are no good reasons Thunder shaking We were kings to the shadows
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1985 Biloxi
(posted on facebook)
The invisible girl With pliable thighs Licking the sweetness from the rose
Passed around inclusive Everyone with their secrets We complete each other
Moving away from stasis In to the foamy change With the mirror and razor
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Coming to the point About life and death Together they exercise a tyranny
Pour me as the world moves Beggar and an open door Cobwebs of progress
Free to launch the bombs Held by a stupid hand We have finally freed ourselves from that spell
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On the second floor They are mixing gasoline with soap Strong enough for evil
As it is on earth Paying for the somber dreams The jackal and the crow
The missions dirt The ticking bomb Still sends chills down my spine
They look at us with expecting eyes Touch with outstretched arms We remember perhaps the darkness
1986 Waxahachie, TX
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At the Museum
Gray and mystical Rushed along on the tide A first taste of the bedlam
Silent like his tears Your freedom song Still ringing in my ears 208
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Out of mind, with a purpose To set this world on fire The body decomposing
Feeding the next generation Walking into the glimpse Between the meanings
(posted on poetfreak)
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Suck out the marrow Deserted and betrayed Feeling like a toy soldier Blacked out and nothing to see
Gathering the children Eating me alive Paid for by the meek Peel it off
Pretending to believe In the night Shes over-bored and self-assured Sweet release and escape
Counting the monkeys Hanging from the rafters They are here to see Bo Diddley
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To bring you back Unfolding, simply unfolding Beautiful and unfaithful Running away with postcards
Reappearing on the West Coast The Cedar River, drinking me down As love comes for me Walking unrecognized
Against the carpe diem injustice I know something of this fear For I have seen the crows circle Watching with frozen smiles
This shared illusion with god Delusions of grandeur As the blood calls out Moving into a bare light bulb
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Project 2 Lend me your terror Chart it in reds and yellows A fiery hoop Speaking about the unquiet
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Just before your election Making it right As best as you can On days too hot
But for who? Mighty walls stand before us This language of life Up our lives in flame
Peeled back Never looking back Crawling back to your traditions Dark island acrobats
Our eyes have blinders Television and the internet Pulling on my balls All your faithful ghosts 212
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Texting on your phone Of gods and fairies Clutching the blue disc The skin of beloved
Plywood palms push on A daylight naked ninja With sobs and prayers When I pretend to believe
Sitting in the passenger seat The last moment of time A borrowed horse Gone to vile in Providence
The little god on your alters Twinkling eye At the edge of the crowd Making me death (posted on all poetry)
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A blind urge to defeat, potential perils in the garage with lovers demands with a nail gun you blaspheme the other.
Preliminary hearings about your murder, a peculiar metamorphosis is this door of doubt, repeating the torture in the little room.
A century of mocking blood, sitting there on the roof with your wrongs, no more a domesticated horse.
Carrying out the killing of the virgins, feeble servants singing twice, haunt your telepathic nights.
Using rifles found in his home, attacking the occupant and illusions, he was a god with an impossible task.
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Let us see the flames in their ragged clothes before we fall into the arms of boneless parties, smoke on the horizon of your manifesto.
Sniff that wind of ugly tension and you are indestructible taking on a life drenched in beauty, the wires and their contacts found deep within.
Into the darkness of your birthday cake. There is nothing but frosting, tunneling under your bright blue wall. (posted on all poetry)
Sexy in their dark skin, all this philosophy and are reduced to ashes and methods of torture, blue lips.
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I cant be the breeze of touching, if she knew about my fantasies like a force of nature.
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They leave you seared, this existence, through the wall of fire.
Trapped under raspy reason, no longer standing on the principle. (posted on poetfreak)
Nous
When the contradictions rise above your head You reach for a new reality Something that pulls you higher above the waters But your grip is still slippery 2010
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