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This Is Just A DrillWhen I called you a trick,
I meant you were magic.
Scarves up your sleeves
Pigeons in your pants,
I saw you in half.
I saw you.
Now I don’t.
We are some escape artists.
Handcuffs our canvas.
We keep applause in a can.
Keep our audience captive,
It’s obvious that
Some movies you see for the writing,
Some for the acting,
Some for the air conditioning.
I am that last class.
That forgettable feel good hit of the summer,
That Ebert and Roeper say the end was the best part.
I am that book that you don’t buy for its binding
The one that isn’t smart furniture.
I am no conversation piece.
I want you to crease my spine
To underline your favorite parts.
Our love would be like tourism in Pittsburgh.
Apparently it exists,
But I’ve never seen it.
Let me be your dress rehearsal,
Your penny dreadful,
That vacation where it rained the whole time
And you stayed inside.
DogstarI’m not one for writing hate-mail,
But I’m going to go postal
If one more person asks me
What I’m doing with my life.
I have aces and eights emblazed on my chest.
I have never worn a vest,
But if I did,
That’s where I would keep my cards.
Go ahead and tell me again
How smart I am,
How I can do anything.
That’s precisely the problem.
The reason I’ve spent two semesters at community college,
And changed my major four fucking times.
Ask me again,
Don’t you like math?
I’ll tell you again,
Yeah, I do, sometimes.
Know what else I like sometimes?
English, science, art, music, silence, business, pleasure, pain, the rain, the sun, the moon, the earth, helping people, hurting people, Buddhism, BDSM, feminism, comic books, poetry, punk rock, rock climbing, roller coasters, rocket science, astronomy, amateur phlebotomy, philosophy, psychology, psychopathy, serenity, cigarettes, chaos theory, coffee, canis vulpis, and carnivorous plants.
To the Poet Who's Always Angry:Please stop yelling.
Seriously, settle down.
I’m not saying you’re anger is unjustified.
I’m just saying that being justified
Does not make it healthy.
I’m worried about you, dude.
This is an intervention.
I know there’s a lot of social injustice.
I’ve heard it said if you’re not pissed off,
You’re not paying attention.
The Dalai Lama begs to differ,
And I’m inclined to agree with that guy.
He seems to know his shit.
I know that outrage is an aesthetic.
I know that red looks good on you.
I know your work sounds better louder,
But just hear me out.
Angry people die so much sooner.
Your blood pressure must be ridiculous.
What does your doctor say about that shit?
Also, I’d like to remind you
Angry people make more messes than they fix.
Angry people hurt people,
And hurt people hurt people.
And I heard something somewhere
About an eye for an eye.
I don’t quite remember how it goes,
But I don’t think it ends well.
Last LongerWe are all naked under our clothes,
And just below that
We are mostly meat and mucous.
A little ocean of iron and oxygen,
We are rusting.
We are bleach of bone and birds nests of raw nerve.
Nothing sexy about that.
So take lots of pictures,
Not too many x-rays.
There’s a story that says
The Buddha was tempted to walk away from the path
By these three pretty girls but
The Buddha remembered that
Soon they would be old
And not too long after that,
They would be fertilizer.
I don’t know if I share his restraint.
Yes, I know this will pass,
I just don’t know if I want it to.
I might want to feel this frustrated forever.
Make me immortal.
Embalm me in silver nitrate.
Fill my arms with ichor so when I bleed,
I bleed in sepia.
Just one thing.
I never liked pictures.
I roll my eyes when I pose for photos,
And I’m really bad at forcing smiles.
I have to force them less these days
With that Midwest way you turn your ohs into ahs.
And that face that you make when you’
Let It OutTo the prosthetic person with the plastic pieces
That present choke hazards to children
And adults alike,
Let Pegasus out.
I know he’s in there.
I can hear him banging his tin can
Against the bars of your rib cage.
I know your heart has horsepower.
Let’s be real here.
No one needs a stethoscope to hear it beat.
Everybody knows the sound of your stampede.
And by the way, those aren’t butterflies you’re feeling.
That’s just him spreading his wings.
That is your factory of fantasy.
Your fulgurized larynx
That crystalized lightning.
That song or that story that’s stuck in your throat.
I know it’s scary.
But it’s okay if you never own anything imported
Or be anyone important.
You are not just novel.
You are more than mere acquaintance material.
More than a Rube Goldberg machine made of meat.
More than just modern art.
More than a museum of mannequins.
You are a whole fucking festival of lights.
Go ahead and glow.
Spin like Sufis
In your Risky
Eulogy for Lou ReedI was just saying how I’d have liked to see you one time before you died.
How seventy-one was still too young.
How I had to fake the grief when my dog and my grandma died,
But not for you.
Now I’m not so sure.
Try as I might,
I can’t imagine Lou Reed the Walmart greeter.
Mr. Walk on the Wild Side cuddled up with two cats named Trebek and Sajak.
The father of punk playing checkers in the park,
Drinking coffee weak like Jay Leno jokes.
From tight pants to loose skin,
Heroin to insulin.
Live fast, live long.
Skywriter ManifestoFold your poems into tiny paper lanterns and send them to the sky.
Light them up and let them go.
Don’t just be a writer.
Be a skywriter
Flying paper planes through restricted air.
Don’t just be an artist.
Be a Styrofoam sculptor,
So that in the event of a flood,
Something you make might keep you afloat.
When people tell you you don’t get gravity,
Tell them no,
It is they,
Who don’t understand
Let your words always be buoyant.
Let them be lifeboats blown up by big lungs of helium.
Hollow their bones.
Let them be brittle
But indomitable dirigibility.
Poetry is for the birds.
And if they must come down
Let them come down
Stuck with little bits of cloud
And miscellaneous sky-stuff.
Let them come down like pillowguts are down.
Let them quilt the ground.
Let them Mother Goose it
And kiss it good night.
Whatever you do,
Just let them be light.
Body ElectricYou’re a hot mess in a sundress
Bikini Kill Barbie I wanna undress.
Talk the kind of poetry make Amanda Palmer get wet.
You’re the kind of potpourri
Smell like cinnamon and sex sweat..
Your evil twin got her picture
On the post office wall,
And you don’t get offended
When I suggest ménage e trois.
Say I may have heard of her,
The manic pixie murderer.
Headspace is hectic.
The style – eclectic
The body – electric
Its language, poetic.
Body language speaks in sonnets and songs
Of Eidolons long gone.
Eidolon and you’re gone.
Gone like Roanoke
Gone in a cloud
Of pheromone and clove smoke.
RumoursInk in his arteries,
Printed fictions on his tongue in bitter tastebud braile
He thought he could outrun the echoes
But words have wings and whispers carry
Lies travel at the speed of sound.
A world of words collapses quickly
Not a writer, just a liar
His house of paper is on fire.
Tongue-tied, tying nooses tighter
He talks and talks and talks in circles,
Eventually word gets around.
Soul MatesBetween dream and moon tides,
The light weaves a new day.
A first glimmer lights the darkness,
Where even still a shadow lay.
For ages swings a song
From star guardians into the world
And first diamonds glitter,
Where luminosity falls on the water.
The young morning is still hesitating,
Promising us hardly the return.
Still the night wraps up the life
And silently breathes the great sea.
Then … finally, the golden time calls.
Water marries to the light.
And shining our heart sways
Where sunshine breaks through waves.
The wind carries my soul
On its wings away from here
To green valleys, ocean lights,
To blue lakes, to you.
You are the life, you are the dream.
You are my soul and my light.
And when the day draws to a close again,
I will not forget you.
God My Constant CompanionPain is constant
Sickness is normal
Joy and happiness a burden
Ordeal of becoming old
Life became a misery
Through the pain and suffering I became closer to God
My thirst for His knowledge grows
My thoughts revolve around God and me
I fear not because God is with me
Only God, my constant companion, understands my plight
Only God comforts me with love,
knowledge and understanding
Only God, through Jesus’ blood sacrifice,
can free my soul and give me eternal peace
I praise God for all the blessings He has given me
Thank You GOD for the love You have given me
by E. W. Rantala/RocksRose - December 7, 2013
Wings Of ChangeProgress marched upon them,
New weapons and new skills,
And so a boy, terrified, ran
To keep away their ills.
To a far off city,
He slowly found his way,
When lanterns like stars guided him
Unto a brand new day.
On the night he met her,
He told her of the change,
For he felt he was drowning
And she’d keep things the same.
She said she would not help him,
For to obstruct all progress was
To never learn to fly.
But drowning he still was,
In changes uncontrolled,
Until some fins and gills he grew
And swam into the gold.
AlgizHer hair looked dark and tangled like tree branches as she stood at the moonlit clearing.
The creatures in the ground sang poems carved in runes in the bark of the evergreen pines.
The trees on the hills were adorned with Orion and her face was obscured by a veil of shadows.
She felt the bedrock crackle as it embraced the fire within the planet traveling in space.
Saplings quivered in the gale while the clear greys and evening blues melted together.
Shooting stars like sinking ships of light drew evanescent lines over the treetops.
An elk with the Pleiades in its eyes came from the woods as it heard her whisper.
It crossed frosty sedges with the shining streams of prayers hanging from its horns.
It wandered the cold earth and found buried sadness with every step of its hooves.
The uprooted human followed invisible tracks and sought answers in the soil.
Down on her knees on the frozen ground, her breath turned into clouds of vapor.
The Moon and the trees studied her in the embrace of th
BetterPraises and prayers go out to You
Everything is Yours and has been Yours
From the heavens where Your throne stands on to the Earth below
You reign all, and yet You are better than all
You are better than all
Better than Your devoted servants to the animals of the world
Better than the Earth You made to the dust You used to bring life
Better than everything that You have made; the ultimate better
The only perfect and You will always exceed beyond our expectations
You exceed in the heavens beyond, and yet You can recreate from the ashes of hopelessness
You can move the mountains and make rivers flow
You can slip open the skies, and yet love with a loving heart
You are better than all
Better than the smartest men in the world with Your perfect wisdom
You know how to softly break us and yet still love
You know everything from the smallest creature to the depths of the human heart
You are better than all
You have all authority and sit on a throne of righteousness
You loved the sinners and b
FreefallingI took the final step, away from Heaven
Leaped off the edge, close to the pearly gates
Salvation isn't for me, but I will know freedom
As I plunge feet first into the fire
No one can save me, I've made my choice
Breathless, I gaze at the beauty below me
For the first time I can feel some sort of happiness
No more pain, no regrets, a feeling of belonging
Knowing it will end only makes me savour it more
The sensation of total 'aloneness', without a need to share
Detached from everything, while feeling one with the world
Total enlightenment, light above and fire below
I close my eyes, ready to face my destiny
Trapped inside the flames for all eternity,
But I don't care, I will endure the hardships
Nothing can hurt me, because I ceased to exist
Bring the RainI run, I fight, I lived and I died
For the love of this girl
My whole world
Yet I run far away off to my deep dark days
When I was something truly different
As I was a soldier, a beast
Fighting as my heart bleeds
Waiting for the day
When all the pain will fade away
Far out of sight
As I come to know the light
No longer fighting for me
But for my father and king
The cause that brought the rain
To wash away all within my past
And this broken heart at last
After so many days too far away
From the light that washed the night away
Jesus MeisiahA long time ago, there was a family.
A newborn baby boy given as a gift.
Not only to his mother, Virgin Mary,
But to the world
His name was Jesus
Jesus lived and died for us
He was always kind and forgiving
He performed miracles
He raised the dead to life
He healed the sick and crippled
And said it was all in the power of God the Father
Yet, he was persecuted and so were his followers
And in the end,
He died on the Cross
But, he rose again!
Jesus lives with God as his son
And he took away our sins as well
So, we know he will always love us
So if we believe in him
We may be saved in his name
If you wish to give your life to Christ, say with me this prayer:
God, please forgive me for all that I’ve done. I have sinned against you, but now I wish for you to be back in control. Please Lord, let me love others like you have loved me, and let me show them your mercy.
Asking For It.I didn't know you then
the way I know you now,
the way they knew you
before everything went to shit; and now,
the fresh association of your voice
with other people's wedding nights on the wrong side
of interstate 81.
I used to be afraid
of all of your right answers,
like maybe you were lying or
was a thing you clung to
because your father broke your nose on the sharp edges of the Bible.
But you quoted scripture,
and we sent verses to each other when we struggled, when you
stood in front of a judge, and when your mother tried to sign away her life
and you caught her
with the pen still in her hands…
I watched you defend Him to a questioner I used to love,
ignorant by his own education
more calmly than I ever could;
and I felt every word in my bones, hot and ringing
from the mouth of a preacher.
You are the way,
and the life…
I don't dream about bodies anymore,
about blonde headed children and western Virginian hills
(I am fed now;
Pray to the RainWe're exchanging goodbyes,
But we're still standing together.
And there's so much to say,
We still talk about the weather.
But the sky is really fascinating,
This silence incapacitating.
The windows down,
Wind drowns out our wishes.
I'd pray to a star,
But tonight they're non-existent
I'd pray to the moon,
But it's so damn inconsistent.
So I'll pray to the rain,
I trust things that fall.
I pray to the rain,
To break this brick wall.
I try to take away your pain,
But I'm no narcotic.
And I might be insane,
But I'm no damn psychotic.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More