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Literature Text
if you don't like it here, why not just get up and leave
there's a world out there that you wouldn't believe
dragons and wagons and flagons of ale
ships bigger than cities and oceans to sail
but there's thugs and there's bullies, cutpurses and thieves
so young to be walking around so naive
because something is taken for everything gained
leaving the end of the day disappointed and drained
so why you ask do you keep coming back
for a bite and a nibble of this wonderful snack
well the real world is good every now and again
but after a while everything just looks so plain
so wrap up your blankets and hide under bed
start dreaming in daytime and forge on ahead
maybe one day you'll live to be wiser than me
but you've got years left of dreaming until then to see
there's a world out there that you wouldn't believe
dragons and wagons and flagons of ale
ships bigger than cities and oceans to sail
but there's thugs and there's bullies, cutpurses and thieves
so young to be walking around so naive
because something is taken for everything gained
leaving the end of the day disappointed and drained
so why you ask do you keep coming back
for a bite and a nibble of this wonderful snack
well the real world is good every now and again
but after a while everything just looks so plain
so wrap up your blankets and hide under bed
start dreaming in daytime and forge on ahead
maybe one day you'll live to be wiser than me
but you've got years left of dreaming until then to see
Literature
Ambers Waves, Blue Eyes
Fingers like a willow, bending at his whim
Run through amber waves of grain.
(blue eyes and somber cups of tea defined evenings and testimonies of simpler things)
He will hold her in his eyes the blues ones and tell her secrets of the world
Like pixie dreams and broken seams and tired, creaky balance beams;
Intertwining fingers and clasped hearts.
Finally.
Literature
sleeping between worlds
quarter to three in air
conditioning has me
sewing labels to my
arms in lowercase letters.
september marches closer.
soon, the sidewalks mumble
as they scorch my bare feet.
stagnant fingers cutting air.
there are no second chances
in chemical burns.
anyway, love never pitied the weak.
last week, the mountains were talking.
they told each other to be braver.
something resonated between them,
then, choked rubies embedded in glass.
light like flash-floods in the valleys.
tonight, there is nothing but pulse.
Literature
ambivalence
it seems that I have lost
my senses,
dripping corduroy blue:
a glass of condescension
and I'll deny everything you've
said.
somewhere between the pastry paint
and the religious
beads of sweat
from your lips to your navel
I've trapped myself
in a cage I lost the keys to.
this is where insanity begins:
too much attention
wasted on the wallpaper
and hours spent meeting anything
but your eyes.
as i'm cradled in the circulation
within alcoholic corks
and blue headlights
your voice tapping at my senses,
your lips replacing mine.
the secret is that I cannot do enough screaming
to drown you out
and I can't be quiet enough
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Comments14
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This is a very interesting poem. Quite well writen. :3