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Old 04-12-2011, 07:09 PM   #21
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He sits upon a cardboard throne
A king in a broken home
His roof a bridge
His fanfare the roaring of the trucks
He used to lounge feet up
With his buddies beside a jewel green forest
Now his only jester is a bottle
Wrapped in brown paper
He begs for coins
Lost in memories
Sometimes someone buys him a meal
He thanks them
But he'd rather drink
Numb the pain
Make life bearable
What life there is left
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Old 04-12-2011, 08:00 PM   #22
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Am typewriter boy
In laptop world
Reinking ribbons
Staining my hands
Speedtyping in midnight hours
Smelling of sweat and correction fluid
Drinking down inspiration
Sitting with a single desklamp shining on keys
Living in the shadows
Cursing for forgetting to advance paper
Going back with red pen and bitten pencil
Making the edits
Sit it in a box and let dust gather
Before going back again for retype
In the midnight hours
Drinking down inspiration
Eating my own words
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Old 04-15-2011, 08:05 PM   #23
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Falling off the couch
From lack of sleep
Staring at the carpet
Far too close up
Writing down halfbrain thoughts
And realizing everything I own
Inkstained
Have I fallen down the rabbithole
Or have I climbed out
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Old 04-16-2011, 07:18 PM   #24
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Default

Armor
Straight jacket comfort
Conceal and protect
Shifting with movement
Barely breathing
Heat
Warm fevered touch against skin
Raw
Sweat
Hugging me too tight
Safety
Makes me less and more
Pain
Temporary
Survival
Armor
Against ignorance
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Old 04-16-2011, 09:01 PM   #25
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Dark shadows trace my walls
Childhood monsters big and small
I watch them move from the floor
I'm just too tired to fight them anymore
The big bad wolf was never scary
It was the good fairies
They changed you made you sweet and mild
Made you a beautiful oh so tasty child
Sinister in their good intent
Who goes to hell
They can all get bent
So I lay upon the floor
And wonder if I can take childhood terror anymore
I don't want to be Rose Red or Snow White
Nor a prince instead they all lose their fights
I'd rather be some poor unknown farm boy
Who becomes the dread Pirate Roberts
At least Wesley got to win Buttercup's delight
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Old 04-18-2011, 06:23 PM   #26
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Tumble
Tumble
Tumble
Down
Down
Down
Falling
graceless
to the ground
Stand back up
Salute the sun
Smile my friend
The day is done
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Old 04-27-2011, 06:24 PM   #27
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Default

Lick
Salt sting broken flesh
Copper pennies on my tongue
Purr in contentment
Calm and centered
Little aches let me know I am alive
I am bound by invisible chains
I am a tiger with new stripes
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Old 04-27-2011, 06:42 PM   #28
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I want to lick the salt off your skin
as if you were some delicious lollypop
or a dripping ice cream cone on a hot summer day
you refresh me
my dream lover
I don't even know your name
your femininity is intoxicating
you are so at ease in your own skin
you make me smile
you give me what I need
the passions I try to resist until they boil up
I delight in your phantom touches
that leave me waking in desperate need of a shower and a fuck
I head to the shower can't have everything we want all the time
then I compose luststruck memories to read later
when the dreams run cold
in my nights you give me all I could ask and more
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Old 05-06-2011, 07:42 PM   #29
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Never before
Have I felt
So calm at peace within myself
I know not how
Except your words
Have made me know what I would
Opinions are just that
People's words mean only what we make them
All they are mosquitoes
Buzzing in our ears
And with proper care their bite will irritate not sicken
I am tired of being sickened by pests


thanks m.n. and p
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Old 05-10-2011, 06:43 PM   #30
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Street lamp silhouettes shadow the sidewalk
Traced with chalk by childlike hearts
Laughing in madness brought by releasing pent up innocence
Embracing the little child who hides inside
Play with chalk
Hopscotch and jump rope
Tell a teddy bear your dreams
Sniffle at the monsters under the bed in the closet
A scary place to be
Be brave with a broken stick sword
And broomstick steed
You are a knight in tinfoil armor
Stronger then any forged steel by your belief
We should all still play make believe
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Old 05-14-2011, 08:43 AM   #31
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I carress you
My fingertips tracing your curves
Loving the sounds you make for me
I smile and inhale
Heady with your scent
You work so hard to help me
I stroke you
Calling out the best of us both
I praise you
Until it is late in the night and we are both exhausted
I curse you
When you run dry of essense at awkward moments
I worship you
My midnight mistress
I fear for the day you fail me
For how will I be a typewriter boy without you
You are my beauty
My battered ancient goddess of print
My Typewriter Lover
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Old 05-15-2011, 01:10 PM   #32
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Smelling of stale cigarettes and despair
Whiskey label somehow permanently adhered into front
Scribbles in margins
Stains of ink and graphite smudges
Humorless remarks
Not a study copy but a work of desperate madness
Blood on the edges from paper cuts
Can almost hear the hiss of a curse as the pages flip
Discard it discard it discard it
Yet still it circulates
Like a battered 1938 penny
Worn by time and rubbed smooth by nervous fingers
Read it lost as much in margin additions as original text
Is this what madness looks like
Or is this what inspiration becomes
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Old 05-15-2011, 04:47 PM   #33
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Fingertips stained with ink from broken ballpoint pen
A mess of blue black on the desk
I want to paint swirls on the decades old calendar
But no that's childish
I am childish
So I scrawl spirals until the ink dries
I scrub at my hands until only ghosts of ink remain
Like some cleaned up Celtic warrior
Is it so wrong I want to drag the ink across my skin
Painting the designs of the gods of battle
To go off and face grocery store fascists
And green market madmen
I close my eyes and simply breathe
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Old 05-15-2011, 07:17 PM   #34
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My tongue flicks out
Salty sweat clinging to my upper lip
Fear and shame in the drops
I push the door open
It is 90 degrees out
And I wear combat boots
For am I not going to war
Jeans splattered with mud and flecks of rusty blood
Torn out at the knees from rough asphalt
Heavy leather studded belt
A backup defense
And layers
Layers to hide that I am not what I seem
Layers to be armor
Body armor misery
On top is heavy hooded sweatshirt
Everyone knows my secret
The teachers scream it everyday
Except for a few that see the desperation in my eyes
And say my last name instead
That's safe enough
But after school and in halls I am freak
Faggot Flaming Fairy Queer
Those who yell it most I see it in their eyes
Disgust...at themselves
Because they like what they see
So I take it
Don't go to the locker when anyone is about
Don't want locker door bruises
From heads bashed into door so fast
Broke two pairs of glasses last year
Finish the day walk out
They wait till I am off the grounds and halfway home
Lay in wait to beat me up
After a while I give as good as I get
No one will ever admit they are beat up by a girl
I wish they'd say I was who broke their nose
Least then they'd accept I am not a girl
Go home bruised and bloody
Nurse the hurts
Grin around the pain
Mom says we can find another school
Dad doesn't even know too lost in his own pain
I just shake my head
A day at a time armored and ready to go
Because at least in this school I know who to punch
And who to simply smile at
Because I am a teenage freak who is happy no longer being meek

-A memory of teenage angst
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Old 05-16-2011, 06:30 PM   #35
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Am I mad
Is this hell that I reside
A horrible torturous suffering
Meant for some past life self
Am I dieing
We are all dieing some faster then others
Most days I feel as if I am dieing by inches
Am I screaming
I can't hear myself but I know I should be
Yet no sound ever ever escapes
Am I drowning
In life in death in hell
If I am do I go to heaven
Does the hurt ever stop?
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Old 05-17-2011, 05:55 PM   #36
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There is a mad symmetry
In the way the words fall across the page
As the click,click,click of keys rings in silence
But for the melting of the ice in the glass on desktop
And the sound of the cat's soft snores on the bookshelf
Occasionally mosquito buzz near half deaf ears
Advance the page a steady rhythm builds
Tap, tap, tap
Finish page
Scratching pen correcting typos
toofast forgot the spaec
Dyslexic mind doesn't catch all the misspells
Will find them later when brain less fuzzy
click, click, click nother page beneath the keys
scratch scratch scratch like the leaves in the breeze
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Old 06-09-2011, 10:42 AM   #37
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Hot sweaty therapy
We have fucking Therapy
Urge to be seen as who we are
You on my cock
Happy fagboi
Seen as beautiful handsome boy
Willing to bottom for me
Therapy session on the floor
You call me handsome hot hard hunk
You've had surgery I have not
But you don't treat me like a freak
You bite and scratch
We walk away bruised and at peace
Therapy hookup
I've got your number until next year
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Old 06-09-2011, 03:52 PM   #38
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You are a warrior
Painted up old school in blue whirls to a god you do not name
You smile as I pull off your shirt
I trace my fingers over your sweat slicked skin
Worshiping a god I do not name
I smile as I lick the scar roughened skin
You look at me eyes gone passion dark
There is a heat rising from us
We are transforming
In each others eyes we are warriors
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Old 06-09-2011, 04:12 PM   #39
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You fell asleep
Your stamina impressive but still even angels must sleep
And you lay a beautiful renaissance sculpture
Tangled in the sheets
Your lashes dark upon your cheeks
Your skin is still flushed from passion
I simply sit drinking whisky and watching you
Tracing the lines of your body
You are a delight
But I covet your body in only a semisexual way
No I admire the way you have worked
Like a sculptor to get the form
And I wonder if I shall ever be that beautiful
Or if I am simply a convenience
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Old 06-09-2011, 05:10 PM   #40
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Location: FL
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I curse you Sal Paradise
For being the man I am not
I am a wanderer of words
But not roads
Though often I have dreamed
Of simply walking away
And making a go of being a mad backpack madman making my way to Mexico City
I want to meet my Dean
And live dancing in glorious insanity with him
Instead of trailing along behind
Simply digging his wild beat songs
Or perhaps I curse you Ray Smith
For the beauty you find in the calmness of madness
Of your night on the beach and your bed under the roses
I want a Japhy with wild Oregon happiness
And learn to fly down mountains after climbing up them on my knees
I wish to sit calmly watching for fire and dreaming of old men who are seeking enlightenment
If only I had been born 50 years earlier
Perhaps then I could been a mad cat without seeming insane
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