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time travel (continued)
time heals, remember?
burying despair: death.
grandfather time, immortal?
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
harbingerthere's a hissing
Christ in every crowd,
weighing indifference in magnitudes
a cursed knot of limbs
left to limp in the wind
and pronate before the presage
as we clutch
at the spilled splays of light through its fingers
doped-up delinquents, small
incomplete at the feet of false gods
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,
deracinationthe solemn minds have
spoken up and out of turn
voices defrayed -
an echoing echolalia ether
and conscripts begone!
restored to disequilibrium
what really killed the dinosaurs
but the big voices in the sky won't give him
any space to fill
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
Blank PagesMy minds in a state of stasis, on an empty stage I'm faceless
My bulbs in need of replacement, and I don't think I can take this.
The imagination is an oasis, it helps me swim to higher places.
Each day passes by like ages, as I slave away for wages
Open heart in broken cages, my only friends are blank pages.
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
This Is The Techno Lover's PlaygroundThis is reality
You are not dreaming
The strobe flashes before me
Let me control your body
Your bass is in my heart
My synths drum in your head
Ghastly smoke clouds at my feet
The mosh pit dances like phantoms
Your presence keeps me alive
Your presence keeps me alive
You do not need ecstasy
I do not need LSD
You do not need cocaine or love
All I need is your rhythm
All you need is my rhythm
As I pulse on the dance floor
It overdrives at a hundred and seventy beats
I can almost suffocate in your heat
This is the techno lover's playground
Where my problems melt away
So grab a glowstick
Dive into the mosh pit
And feel the f
Do you know the taste of the universe?One day, when you’re five years old and made out of fractured sunlight and mirror shards, you sit down on the bench of the MAX train. You’re dressed in your winter coat and boots that are too big and one of your parents has pulled your hat too close over your ears.
You’re sitting next to your mother, and on the other side is a man that smells like loneliness, something that you’ll later know as cigarettes and alcohol and homelessness. He’s crying quietly into the top of his jacket and you’re scared to look because you’ve never seen an adult cry.
The train ride goes on for five minutes, which is a lo
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`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