I Know What I Am

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I know what I am

I know the value I provide

Your raincloud won’t

Diminish

My sunshine

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Quietly Adjusting Back Into Your Life

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Quietly adjusting back into your life
Unseen boundaries & soaked in the rain
But this is a temporary thunderstorm
The sun will return tomorrow & permanently remain
But we don’t need to wait to be happy
For it’s a mere emotion we can choose
‘Fake it until you make it’, still applies
For in the end, what do we have to lose?

Forgiving The Passionate Hubris

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Forgiving the passionate hubris

The least fractured figment of my ire

But I’m not competing for affection

Denounced for their fateful friendly fire

So I’m taking the eastbound train

To remove myself from the glitterati

The Urban gentry called for my death

Betrayed by those who are rash & haughty

The train tumbles on through the rain

Steaming towards the next Highland city

Needing a respite from those judgements

From the girls who love to be called pretty

College Magnetic Poetry Vol. 1

I eat her peach, like it was a screaming bed
Rob lathered her pink butt, like I said
She urges me to lick the bare breasts, or no head
They want the mist under the dress, and she is red
I cry, but think those rose petals are like a knife
My woman moans as we fall with spring through life
Smell sweet honey like a purple forest o’ eggs
He sees my finger smear next to the smooth hot leg
Watching two girls waxin’ & milkin’ without you
The gorgeous goddess needs his languid tongue to be true
Deliriously drunk & a repulsive moment recalls an ugly day
I felt the beauty whispering lust, wanting to play
Sweat leaves my apparatus juicy and shiny, always beating it away
Frantic spray floods the luscious garden from behind
Trying to swim beneath a language o’ an elaborate mind
Winter crushes drool over lovely eyes
On top, producing no sleep as we lie
Together, eternity is an essential chain
Manipulating me through bitter rain
Mothers can ask to stop, but still get to blow
I pound your fluff and then must go
Getting shot in some hair is easy when you are not above
Shadows o’ their enormous size is what you vision and love

Circa 1998

*Author’s Note: I feel I should explain this mess. It was written in college on a buddy’s fridge with the non-x-rated magnetic poetry. It is horribly juvenile and I love it all the more for that reason.

Gimme A Minute Till I Look Pretty

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Gimme a minute till I look pretty
I don’t want to go out there without my cologne
I can’t deal with the sketchy people
You know, they’ve hidden away all the pay phones
I don’t trust the Gov’t hiding behind rain coats
The shadows are weary with their demodulation
Open your windows to the rain – expect justice
I shall bare my raw breast in hopes of emotional rehabilitation

Old, Wind Soaked Cafes & Streets

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Old, wind soaked cafes & streets
The walls crumbling within their age
Mold & mildew beginning to overtake
Nothing left here to properly disengage
Harsh realities of your actual life
This future isn’t how it was supposed to work
The burning makes it impossible
The world come back with a strong jerk
Vision melts into a gloomy haze
Never told it could be this way
Heart dropping with perpetual rain
Everything fades to dark & grey

Some Might Claim This Simple Life Is Too Boring

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Some might claim this simple life is too boring
The calm existing quietly is worse than the rain
Those fidgeting souls shake loose their moorings
Do as you please, but I can do without the extra pain

Circular Arguments In My Semantical Nature

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Circular arguments in my semantical nature
Feelings expounded in earnest in the rain
Taking life slowly without such hassle
Exact footsteps allowing you the least bit of constrain
Sleep remains to appear in reoccurrences
Unchanged in our former exasperating doses
Unable to look away in these sudden urges
Ticking away, starlight illuminates one supposes

Fog Drifts Between The Redwoods

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Fog drifts between the redwoods
Those giants of this land
What once was will never be again
Couples walking hand in hand
Eerie thoughts lost in the mind
Our souls cleansed in the falling rain
Can I disappear into the mist
Will that erase this lingering pain
Which direction is the truth
I’ve lost all senses in the time
I cannot find the forgotten beauty
Living life with a wedge of lime