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Waiting With StrangersYou know what blows my mind? Strangers. Well, not just strangers, but the contrast between strangers and friends. I notice it a lot more when I'm forced to be around strangers for extended periods of time. It happens hundreds of times every day. Bus stops, elevators, restaurants, waiting rooms. I start to wonder about these people, these strangers. I'm not too great at reading faces, but I still try. Its hard not to wonder about them. Why are they here? Where did they come from? What are they really like? In a certain way you start to know them. You begin to recognize bits and pieces of emotion in their faces, emotion that you go through each and every day. A grimace, a half-grin, eyes that stare listlessly at the ground, their owner clearly lost in thought. Its the kind of stuff you hide from anyone that you consider a friend. No one wants to be friends with someone like that. Someone who lets their pain shine through, someone "troubled", someone "depressed". Someone who has the intel
Milo Milo stood perfectly still. It seemed almost a crime to upset the silence of the landscape that surrounded him, a landscape that seemed to listen closely for even the slightest disturbance. Standing at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere and and trying to decide which direction to head, the trees to either side seemed to close in around him, muffling even the normal sounds of nature. Milo looked up to the dark gray sky above him, just as the first drops of rain began to fall. He reflected on the long journey that each drop rushed to complete, only to shatter to a million pieces upon reaching its destination. Suddenly his own journey seemed much less urgent.
Slowly, he turned right and began to walk along the road. Shortly the road became smaller and eventually it turned into a dirt path through the woods. Today marked the fifth day since Milo had left his familys farm. His father had
Clotho's Danceand the song
as the stars
all fell in time
as intended to fall
and so we danced on
in crowded dancehall
new dancers appeared
and old ones departed
the dance stole partners
with whom we had started
and some times the beat
was decidedly off and
Rooftop SestinaOne day as atop my roof I sat
Upon the street below I looked
And beheld the people as they went
From atop my private perch
How small these people seemed
All in haste about their tasks
All caught up in fleeting tasks
Not one beheld me where I sat
Too engrossed in life they seemed
To see from whence I looked
They spied not my favored perch
And as quickly came as went
Wondering where the time went
They rushed to their silly tasks
And I laughed from atop my perch
Almost falling from where I sat
Like a swirling sea the ground looked
Higher had I gone, or so it seemed
Ever so small this ground seemed
That quickly fear came and went
How unreal the ground looked
And the people about their tasks
I was tempted to leap from where I sat
Just to prove the truth of my perch
I stood halfway off my perch
And halfway upon air that seemed
Real as the roof on which Id sat
And down below the people went
They and I content with our tasks
I closed my eyes as no one looked
Ground grew close and up I lo
Making Lonely Little StainsI spilled wine on the camera
And it got drunk with me
It took pictures of a time
That I have yet to see
So unlike my memories
Are these photographs
They look just like my book
Filled with foreign autographs
I spilled wine on the banister
And it got angry with me
It let me tumble away
Because revenge is easy
It left me sore and crumpled
At the bottom of the floor
All on behalf of spilled wine
And I just wanted more
I spilled wine upon the floor
But not from within my cup
And no longer could I stand
Nor tell which way was up
And as I lay there wondering
Just who would come and save me
I came to a realization
That continues to amaze me
I spill wine between my lips
To make my world worth taking
And I have lived for many years
Content with inebriation
And as I lay upon the ground
I feared not being forgot
I was renowned within the city
I excelled in the dark
I spilled wine on the camera
And it got drunk and shot me
And someone followed suit
Their face too dark to see
And out of deafening da
Spring, RebornThe wintry ash disappears from the ground
And a phoenix is born in the east
Its less mythic kin are all northern bound
Their internment down south having ceased
Their voices call out in harmonious song
No voice out of tune in the least
And the beautiful song reaches very far down
And awakens the slumbering beast
The beasts and the birds have all come around
To sing and to dance and to feast
In warm springtime air their voices resound
"Til the phoenix once more is deceased
HolesHoles in my clothing
And holes in my mind
And holes in the ceiling
That raindrops will find
They fall from the heavens
And slip through the holes
Right through the ceiling;
My mind; My clothes
The liquid, it pools
Collects in my mind
It coats every crevasse
Or cracks it can find
But my mind works better
When something's not right
Raindrops won't break it
Or decrease its sight
And my clothes fit better
Once they've been drenched
They cling to my arms
Like fists tightly clenched
Little fists with little holes
Their knuckles dark and bruised
Beaten and broken and beaten again
From years of heartfelt abuse
Rain continues to fall
Through the holes in my ceiling
It slowly pools on the floor
The linoleum is peeling
But a house that's gone to waste
Seems just about right for me
It seems to match my person
Or who I've been lately
Yes, holes in the ceiling
Are really right for me
These holes are like theatres
And this show is for free
At night I just look on up
When the stars all shine on throug
Words UnspokenWords are stronger than blows
But silence is stronger still
So throw your blows at me
Like we both know you will
And I'll maintain my silence
As you maintain your pride
But you're throwing away your dignity
When I don't dodge or hide
But in a way you save me
With every punch you throw
Pain at least makes sense to me
In fact its all I know
So set me free from this debris
That was me once upon a time
And show me how to know me
When to be me is a crime
Its no blunder to make some thunder;
Break asunder my outer shell
There's got to be some truth to me
Underneath this wretched hell
And words are stronger than your blows
And my silence is stronger still
So throw your fists, throw your life away
Like we both know you will
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
My School Says I'm Worthless (sort of a rant)I'm a criminal because my values aren't their values
And I'm scum to say the least
Because I'm not on their list
Ones who have their lives set out
And drink from molten glory raining down from
School top balconies...
And I have myself left to blame for all the non-attempts
And truancies; the bleak distractions
That help me escape the inviolable test-score stares
Of disapproval that I attract from their
And they're forced to ask me 'Why?
Why are you still here?'
And I can barely say
That I'm afraid to leave.
That I know that no-one knows
Or what they want to be
But unlike those
I gave up
A while ago
And they can't tell me to my face that I'm a failure so they heavily imply
That my lacking presence
And even less impressive
Tendency for slacking off is evidence
That I am stupid and a fool and nothing more than such a waste of resources
And it's a disappointment
That I don't hold their ideals
VesselYour heart is a compass.
Broken, perhaps, but I know
It’s always searching for the North Star.
Which way will your beard point tonight?
DanielYou are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium
that does not make you the lesser -
You’ve got the weight of the world
on one shoulder
sometimes you trip because of it -
you’re still walking
and if things fused wrong
post or anterior
and if things fused out in the interior
your circuits live on
and if your thoughts get circular
or so do your moods
and your mind blanks and you forget -
you’re nervous but strong -
then I’ll remind you.
Because you give me
the backbone required
you’re my Atlas, so I lift my head,
you’re my axis, so I can face the future
because you are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium.
You’re my inner strength.
FallingFailure after failure
A life not worth living
Lost in my misery
Long gone are the good moments
I keep falling
Nothing can save me now
Gone my hopes are
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.
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.
The SeaLife is the sea that never ceases to smash to pieces the person that I claim myself to be
The absolute essence of me, laid out for all to see
Left out to dry by this so-called sea.
Friends are the waves that come and go, ebb and flow,
Carrying themselves ever farther from me
They dare not be seen with one so unclean,
Impure by unanimous decree
With but a word they could save, but instead gossip and rave.
No more do they crave, these things called waves.
Enemies are the water that tries to drown me, it surrounds me
Acting in ways meant to confound me
To take a drink means death I know, but I crave that cold drink so
I dare not drink I think
To welcome this water is to welcome relief
To give in to grief for one last reprieve.
But while how I got here is hard to perceive, I know that this water is not how I leave.
Because you are the air that gives me life, erases strife,
Cuts though this sea that I call life
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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