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time travel (continued)
time heals, remember?
burying despair: death.
grandfather time, immortal?
silver-tinged twilight owls
with the help of lofty, fresh leaves
so too, do the summer's evening
winds whistle around
the empty park bench passing
through the p
stargazersShe lives in a river of stars, intricately weaved into the eyes of Eden
the way his roses find beauty in her bramble-berry eyes
watching the sun sink into the ocean
waiting for the night sky
I will always remember him, eyes dancing, hiding her broken heart
Rainwater, hurricanes of lonely gray spilling onto the cloudy sidewalk. The stars are gone tonight.
Gray MasqueradeStriding through this gray, empty world,
I peer upon the hard faces of my peers.
False laughter rings in my ears,
Strained smiles depict something's amiss.
They all fit in,
Just a bit too much.
Robotic and stiff,
They are unidentifiable.
Caught up in the crowd and judgment,
They have lost their identity and their pride,
And their emotions are as flat and cold as those disguises they sport.
The world has come to this.
Even they don't know who they are any longer,
Is like a masquerade ball.
I would rather die
Than live a lie.
living misslethis was once the center of things
a garrison of mustard seed and sedulous
but now summarily surrendered
to the direction of those bred to push buttons
like Theseus throwing
himself to the Aegean
half dissolved and resolved
to be a better reagent
currently disclosable informationthey're naked ships on the horizon
smuggling the tender metal-armed children
who will untie our knots and
tend to our fields
raised on impunative
alchemy and indignant occamy
there is quite a strange
thing doing quite strange things
somewhere entrained by the eyes paregoric
a spate of pro-
and there are some beasts
you can't catch with tackle and bait
ones you must lure
with more orwellian versions of the truth
and those are the ones to keep
locked in small skeleton closets
to smother with pillows and bury
in the basement on christmas eve
in vitro meatsloth;
sill diffusing the bombs
the crime sorcier of hyper-
this air is so dirty
the sophists are sweating
while eating their supper, while
scratching their slogans
'to the spine of our eyes
and the future assured
on the whim of synthetics
we were proclaimed as the founders of feasts
not the same decaudate dogs
bred by the public domain
cool as the absolute/value of absolute zero
in the wheelhouse of liquid
our compared notes on entropy
and all of the above
and the dark heart instilled
around itself builds
an army of somnabulist clones
brontosaurusthe slow strobe of thunder
everyone is fostering some Fabian ideas
the rabbits on the run
the fingernails dirtied
even uncle traveling Matt and his silly
creatures of outer space
so craft your own consequence
and wash it down with black milk
by the garbage pile you keep at the edge of your garden
while the drawbridge holds
your doppelganger and its pavonine
pasquinades at bay
scandalous strokes to the slow strobe of thunder
A Grand TryThis is really a simple story,
of a girl who lost her self.
Not among the trees, or the waters,
but in the very heartbeat of her.
She let circumstance and life get in the way,
and allowed others to shape her and mold her.
Forgetting what she enjoyed, valued, and felt for.
slowly shrinking behind the doors.
So is it really a huge surprise to any,
when the girl decided she didn't want to fumble through anymore?
She knew she was needed, but alas she felt abandon,
by those who promised "forever and ever more."
You see she lost all those who were dear,
to an illness no one really understood.
She was happy though, in her own little world,
Gas Chambershe had an addiction to love and cocaine
she liked the rush into her head and through her veins
she was itching bad and sinking low
she was all dolled up, are you ready to blow?
her rose garden started smelling
her sad stories more distorted and less compelling
no one cared about the shit she was wearing or selling
any whore of the day took her place
in every way she was left to waste
in desperation she tried to save face
but she couldn't be certain of anything
do you really believe it was me, are you perceiving correctly?
I highly doubt that you know me, have you lost your sanity?
she sat dazed under a gas light
she must have been out of
the disorder of operationsa jaundiced account
we pledged our allegiance to carbon
rods and reactors
quicksilver gizmos adorning our mantles
and the secrets we've found
in ancestral owl pellets
unearthed by the same
that tighten the tactical belt
You Took Something From MeI used to remember what was hidden in the moon
The light of a billion beautiful rays still shading in the looms
Now a broken soul, an apparatus to destruction, a tool
A word, a phrase, a paragraph or two
A day doesn't pass without me waking up in pain
To see your repugnant fucking face over me again
The terrors never cease and sometimes I desire
To be deceased, to baptise myself in fire
To leave this earth because my sanctity was violated
And I was young, how could you use this in advantage?
I can't even manage to describe my hate
You pushed the envelope, and I thought I was to blame
But it isn't that way now that I've realized
That I lied to
HumanI don't want to go outside.
It just don't
I hate explaining myself
I hate reality sometimes
I hate being alone
I hate having people around me
I'm sometimes a hypocrite
I'm sometimes a liar
I'm sometimes a procrastinator
I'm sometimes too bunt
I sometimes can't catch a clue
I sometimes don't understand
I sometimes get jealous
I sometimes get scared
I sometimes remember him
and want to slam my head on the counter
to erase what I thought was fatherly love
I'm scared of lots of things
I'm scared of bumps in the night
I'm scared of being touched
I'm scared of upsetting friends
I'm scared of being insensitive
I'm scared of people dying
of foresta community event i am on
my own with you resplendent
hands bowed towards the cattle prod
heart bellowing under Her earth
Mother Nature kisses and kicks me
banal and silly and enamoured
poem 29at once i filled my room's walls
with the last page of every book
in your library, magic and nonfiction.
i turned my fingers into teeth
i chewed up every ending
so we would end up stick midway
except you slept with my conclusions
left them all suspicious of me
poem 28crusty chanel handbag and
matching lipstick, scientific
umms and ahhs soggy in the
cold coffee you left out
from the previous morning hark
the sky bled open like a red pudding
you were bathed in the light of limerence
but you came out with potatoes
and all kinds of shit behind your ears
poem 27saw you as an owl
lift me with feathers
each faint and lovely
but amassed heavy
used them as down
i did, soft and fine
and thus woke with
all kinds of bedsores
mustered from your
son-of-abitch stare, o us
Keep in Touch!
`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More