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Rebuttals.Such beautiful blasphemy
Such coaxing condemnation
What detrimental images
Dance through my imagination
How tasteful this temptation
I'm so delightfully damned
Such a fantastic failure
Was the lion and the lamb.
How succulently sick
And excelling expectation
Was the act that signed and sealed
The prevalent promiscuity
So promisingly perfect.
The scent of skin and sweat and flesh
Such dear denunciation.
Who knew that from the soul could come
Such a pagan premonition?
That such an act is alone
The minds own emanation.
That such an act so oft' despised
Is the seed of inspiration,
That such an animalistic act
Is its own education.
And if I am despised and burn
For such an honest demonstration,
I shall grin and laugh and dance
But never offer explanation.
And if they threaten you and I
With vulgar confrontation,
I will stand beside you and
Defend our our righ
Even EdenThere was once a garden so beautiful, so pure that time itself did not dare set foot in it. The fruits were full and brightly colored, and their scents hung in the warm air with a sweet flavor that would reach out and cling to your clothes and linger on your tongue. The grass was thick and cool, with no rocks or thistles to stab at bare feet, and no insects to nibble on bared flesh. The breeze was gentle and cool, perfectly contrasted by the warm air. The sky was in a state of perpetual sunset, with the tip of the sun lingering over the western skys, casting the most exuberant shades of reds and oranges, greens and purples across it, and mixing with the moon that sat, fat and jolly on the other side, casting its alabaster glow down upon the garden.
In this garden, there lived three people. The first was a man named Eden, and he was the keeper of the garden. He over saw that the fruit grew large and sweet, and that the grass was safe and long. He kept the leaves on the trees green and t
Because Of YouThe mountains quake with uncinstrained fury
and the sky hacks its disbelieving lightning laugh
while the clouds growl low in the hills.
They spit on us,their deluge of tiny,
warm droplets that pour down around us.
Let them hate that I love you.
The demons in the fire cackle and click
as they lick out with their burning tongues
hissing their cinder-like words
and blowing this way and that,
hoping one will land upon our bare flesh.
and leave its painful mark.
Let them hate that I Love You.
The restless western wind and the cold north one
moan and whisper to one another
in astonished insult, as they wrap themselves
around our bodies and squeeze, but to no effect.
Let them hate that I Love You.
And they all plot against us to steal me away.
The lightning blinds me
while the fire tendrils grad hold of my wrists
and the wind caresses my neck head and neck,
and runs gently through my hair,
whispering for me to come away.
I do not hear them.
I do not feel them.
All I know is that you arms are
Swear NeverYou were there when I swore I never needed anyone.
When I swore there was no such thing as love.
When I swore I would never cry.
You were there when I swore they would never get to me.
That I would never care what they thought,
That I would never look back.
You were there when I swore they would never break me,
and you where there when I was proven wrong.
You where there when Never became Now,
and then you swore.
I was there when you swore you had never seen someone as perfect as me.
when you swore you would never forget me,
never leave me.
When you swore you would never let me go,
would never stop until I was happy.
And then you swore you never lied.
The JokerI know the secret God wanted to keep,
And I laid down my hand and said, "Read 'em and weep."
Then he looked at the devil, who nodded his head,
Then looked back at me and smiled as he said
"In knowledge, my child, you win yet you loose,
You are cursed with the will to seek for the truth."
The devil leaned forward in his fit, silk black suit,
Downed a shot and said with aloof,
"He's right ya know, kid,
You're faced with a choice,
Break or bend.
Live or die.
Silence or Noise."
I shook my head, no. I did not understand,
As god stood and left, the devil folded his hands.
He stood and he circled the table and sighed,
"I like you kid, do you wanna know why?
Even here, even now, with now way to win,
You're kicking and screaming, you fight to the end.
You'd think you'd have learned that you're not always strong,
That," He sneered, "you are human,
And you Can be wrong."
And then, my dear friend, he started to laugh,
And with each sickly hiss his voice sizzled and cracked.
"Let me tell you someth
PonderingsCaught amongst the rampant race
Staring into heavens face
Wondering if there is a place
For you amongst that empty space
Something kind of like a star
Constant no matter where you are.
So perfectly above the bar
You envy their right to be so far
So daintily far above
The crooked world your supposed to love
But what right have they to sit and judge?
A star knows not of life and love
A star has no urge to kiss and tell
Has never stood at the gates of hell
Has never had to sit and dwell
On just how far he might have fell
A star knows nothing of win and loose
A star fears no hangmans noose
They just sit there, high and aloof
And stare back at the darkened roofs
A stars have a far worse fate
They dwindle outside heavens gate
While they always contemplate
never will they participate
So when next you search for something true
Do not look to the endless blue
For although stars act like they do
In truth they know nothing of you.
the truth about growing up
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
LullabyHush, my baby,
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
Stranger's funeralUnder the clouds
Under the rain
Staring at the coffin
At a stranger's funeral
We're all alone
Feeling the storm
But not the pain
For he's but a stranger
And the graves around us
Are just there
Keeping us company
During this empty moment
CarolineYou loved the fire
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
Darkest MoonI celebrate my right to live;
To the dismay of some, perhaps
It should be noted
These words I write, however true
Are only portions of the moon
I’ve decide to shine light upon.
But who am I to preach respect?
Who Am I to preach equality?
An advocate for re-personification
Of the female gender
But exhibits cannibalistic characteristics
Within dark spaces.
I am a shadow
Hidden within an Eggshell, painted pink,
Waiting to hatch.
Is the darkness
The night brought upon us.
things to tell you before i leave for collegeto mrs hatcher:
i promise that one day i will write that poem you asked me for
(the only thing you ever asked me for)
and i will finally tell you that you deserve
so much more.
to mr. walker:
i promise that i will not pity you.
i promise that i will not envy you.
i promise that you will always be one of my forget-me-nots and marigolds.
i promise to always be grateful.
i promise to be careful.
i promise to be crazy.
i promise that i will remember what it feels like to be needed
and what it feels like to let someone who needs you down.
i promise that i will never resent you for asking for help
and that i will always be there when you do.
i promise that even sixty years from now,
i will not be surprised to find a letter from you in my mailbox.
i promise to always remember what it felt like to be young and crazy with you,
how scared and lonely we were.
i will remember that we both survived it,
and that we'll survive this, too.
You Were Born Missing SomethingYour skin is glazed with crystals of frost
and your heart's valves are close to
freezing shut tight
from being devoid of something
Though I am torrents of hail, whirling storms,
warm tears streaking,and tornadoes of rage
that flow uncontrollably through my veins
and out of my mouth,
every breath near you is warm
because your words are so cold
I am a natural disaster at its finest
with bones twisted in painful angles
and a crooked spine
you were born spineless
My MonumentI am staring at a wall.
A blank, empty, barren wall.
There are cracks in it.
The white paint is chipping.
The spray can in my hand is cool,
and it cry's rebellion.
I hold my breath and stare at this,
and wonder what to write on its
No. As soon as the word is written it becomes a lie.
No, to etch it on yet another lifeless surface would only furthur mar it's meaning.
No. For then the wall would be sure to crumble with time.
No. I need to forget it all.
I stare at this wall.
But it's not really blank, is it?
The chipped pait that leaves the
unblemished stone visible
The tiny, hopeless flower
that struggles to peak through the cracks
that crashes against this wall
Moans out "forever."
and the spiderweb cracks
that sprawl across the lonely walls face
humbly challenge, "remember."
I am staring at a wall.
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