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Long Addiction Poems

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Long Poems
Long poem by JW Earnings | Details

Liquor of Lament: My Glass is Half Full

Verse 6: I've given up love countless times 
I needed to pay up for my heartbroken crimes
I already repented for my sins that made my high hopes paper-thin
Don't you feel that envy from deep within? 
Searching around, wondering where you've been  
Wander with me in the forest of faith and hear me out if you are all ears
Trying our best to pass the test that we detest 
Innocence clothed us before we lost it all through smiles and tears
Years later, we're still together, even when we rest...even though I act like a pest...
I'm impressed that you dealt with me so easily
I'm a smarter hard worker ever since you set me free
I'm a survivor 
I'm so much wiser
I'm a giver, not a taker 
I'm not a heartbreaker or a forsaker  
I'm a creator of healing grace unlike any other, so much joyful fruit to gather
Positive auras is what I get from the wisdom of our mighty Father

{pre-chorus}
{chorus}

Verse 7: I'm only human, so I'll be making my mistakes
I'm a lonely man, so I'll be praying for chances to belong 
I'm only human, so I'll be drinking the liquor of lament 
I'm a dog without an owner, so I'm writing this sad, yet from-the-heart song 
All my life, I've sharpened the knife of Shame
Shadows consume me and reflections haunt me...my past is a hideous name
My high spirits can't be tamed...I'm not the one to blame...
You came to me, you came to me and gave me wings to break free
In the darkness of my oblivion to illuminate me...
Never exiting this ecstasy next to sea

{pre-chorus}
{chorus}

Verse 8: Closing my eyes for the remedy of rest I've yearned for
Posing like a model next to a camera...snap pictures and explore
You are my drug of delight and I want you more and more 
You picked me off of the filthy floor 
I lay in clouds of regretless love that I covet
I can't get enough of it...so glad we met 
You made me wet with pleasures so swell 
Our kisses and hugs ring a bell...you were a friend that treated me so well
You're my heaven and I'm your hell...you forgave me for being selfish I can tell 
Never should've drank that liquor of lament 
That liquor, liquor, liquor of lament...not broken, just bent 

{pre-chorus}
{chorus}

Verse 9: I made that mistake that I can't undo...
Now I'm left to repent for the wrong I didn't mean to do 
I didn't mean to do
I'll blame it on my luv floo
You made me love you too
How could you?
I said hello to you; but in return, I get a goodbye of rue 
I aimed for the stars, but instead, I hit the moon
Take your time as you and I sing a most familiar tune
We are young in heart still...
Don't you act like a deadly pill...
Stop pulling my heart strings
Your rage is like a bee that stings 
I engage in the sensuality of my soul 
You're my lightingale and my clever tool 
You're the bleak poison that makes me weak
I'm avoiding another glass of fake gladness...I want to be sober and meek 
So, don't speak...
I don't want to hear your prideful greediness
I don't want to hear your madness, your sadness, your lack of progress 
Take all of me if I'm the boy you want 
Take all of me if I'm the boy you need
Take all of me
Take all of me
Before time runs out
Before hope turns to doubt 

{pre-chorus}
{chorus}

Verse 10: Life is card game
Strife won't leave me be 
My wild child heart needs to be tame
Oh I see, you don't love me
Our sex wasn't enough 
I didn't give it to you rough
I tried to act smart and tough
But I'm dealing with some difficult stuff
Take a bite into me
I'm the good apple that's pleasant for the eyes to see
Lick me up and down
I'm the tattoo mark on your skin, 
I'm your lover, your beloved kin...that covers up your sin
I'm the bandaid on your bullet wound of glory
I'm the tourniquet to your broken leg of inability 
You're the seed that planted itself in me 
You're the greed that took away my humble me, you see?

{pre-chorus}
{chorus}

Verse 11: Be considerate and keen for once in your life
Why do your harsh words cut like a jagged knife?
Oh no, I can't hold on to this anger, boiling in my blood 
Oh no, your paradise was spent on someone better than me...what's up with that, bud? 
Pin me down with your heavy load of appealing pleasure beyond measure
No kidding, you are the best compared to the rest that's for sure 
My heads under the surface of hopelessness Your head is in the clouds of solace
What's wrong with that picture?
You don't appreciate the hardships that I endure 
Your loyalty and patience is what I need
Your adoration is beyond sensation...I'm your top-notch weed 

{pre-chorus}
{chorus}

Verse 12: Your magical touch is too much to bear...you're the golden armor I wear
You're the surreal song on the radio - turn it up a hair
Everyone stops and stares at us as we run up the stairs 
You are my dream of reality that I dreamt of During nostalgic nights without you by my side 
You are the white dove of peace and pure love 
Abide by my side, my darling devil...where do you hide? 
Please don't hide...
Take me on a bumpy ride 

{pre-chorus}
{chorus}

Bridge: I'm the valley and you're the mountain
You're the flourishing flowers and I'm the fretful fountain 
You're my muse that rings in my head so true...you're the happy blues 
You're my black and white checkered rose in the field of gracious good news 
The world of woe seems to beat me down 
With mood swings and tragedy that burns on...
I'm a clown, wearing a frown 
I'm the dusk before nightfall and you're the dazzling dawn
I make out with my mesmerizing sunrise right before my eyes,
Right before my eyes, yeah
Reminds me of you on your happy-go-lucky days
I'm sorry that we went our separate ways...oh, our own separate ways 
Now, I'm gulping up liquor of lament 
Liquor, liquor, liquor of lament
A guilt that overflows 
Clearly, my shame shows
The wicked wind surely blows
When you and I express our highs and lows
Ooooh ooooh ooooh...
Ooooh ooooh ooooh...
Our highs and lows
Ooooooh...ooooh...ooh...

(Spoken) You walked out that door
You left me with the one you adore 
You pity yourself, but I ain't buying your product of insecurity
You belittle me with your rebellious spirit of nothing close to empathy 
You're a rebel and a liar 
I'm the hero and a warrior
Don't put a label on me 
Because I will burst in flames of anger and hostility 
I resent the person I've become 
Now, I'm feeling empty and numb 
Catch me as I fall and make me feel whole as well
Attach me to your passionate heart of titanium...can't help but be under your spell

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Joseph Collins | Details

Acid part 2

Acid part 2 (enjoying low grade trips the first hits)
By Joseph Collins
5/20/17

The second trip was much different, a week later me and my buddy with his woman went on a trip just us three.
We stayed in Queens and went to see a band Acid Bath in castle Hight’s a heavy metal bar/club.
We only had three tabs of some finer acid, but still in the low-class sense. 
Before putting the tab in my mouth, I seen a mountain visual on the tab itself.
I asked this, this shit is normal bro?
He asked you seen a mountain?
Where at? 
I took my tab and pointed it out to him, and said there you see it?
Yes, I know it’s there only those with insights would see it, you should take a whole with a half where we gong don’t take the other half till acid bath starts.
Okay I said.
We get to the club man and shit a hour after taking the first hit I don’t feel anything.
So, I take the half hit.
Fuck it’s not kicking in.
I go to my bro, what the fuck man this shit is fake with anger.
Then bam it hits. 
Like getting slammed with a hammer.
Colors talk people. 
Red says I love you baby come and fuck me.
Purple says I’m the Reaper, fear me you will die!
Fuck you purple reaper dude I’ll cut you and send your ass back to hell I scream.
Green comes to me into a cloud of smoke, Green says smoke me set your anger free baby I’m here for you.
Purple reaper dude doesn’t like that and pushes green.
I scream, purple reaper man leave my green queen alone!
I look at the bar and see people staring at me like I came from another planet. 
I say what the fuck you all are looking at.
A guitarists from a band of dead emotion came and said it’s alright bro have a drink. 
I said sure here is a twenty get me a wild turkey with a coke on the side.
Asshole I’m only eighteen they not going to serve me.
He said relax man ride the trip if it’s not working to your liking. 
He got me my drink and I went outside to smoke a nice thick joint I rolled and man this one band was playing was like Gods on stage the sound wasn’t hard like the rest.
I have seen the truth in their soul by their music which was a band that their guitarist got my drink.
Dead Emotion had a sound of doors mixed with Jimmy Hendrix Riffs.
Right then Dead Emotion became my underground band. 
For the first time, the lights became friends.
The purple reaper chilled out and sat next to the green held her hand and red hugged them both.
Harmony kicked in.
And All was good.
Acid Bath canceled and pissed half the bar off, I was fuck it’s a message from God maybe it wasn’t meant.
Me, my buddy, and his girl go outside to smoke some pot. 
We group up in a doorway next to the club/bar.
I say we should move, they both say no we good and safe.
I said you think, I know better.
Half through the blunt two people waiting on the line waiting to get in ask if they can have a hit. 
I said no, we are leaving.
My buddy passes him the blunt, he takes a hit and passes to the dude waiting with him.
I said you both are cops!
Sure, right there out comes the badges from inside their shirts.
I said fuck!
They put me and my buddy up on the wall pat us down they asked if we had weapons or drugs.
Of course, I had five dimes in baggies.
Cop dickhead one asks, is for selling? 
No I said.
Cop dickhead two asks my buddy the same question, I said don’t lie bro these assholes are trying to mother fuck us.
Cop One got in my face, I got in his I said you must be behind because you smoke more crack than a bum on the train station panhandling.
Oh he didn’t like that, he cuffed me tightly, threw me in a van made me sit on my cuffs.
After ten minutes banging on the door of the van his partner pulled over loosened them.
Wrist was cut fingers numb, still I thanked the fucking pig.
My buddy had it a little easier he had his girl hold his drugs so he really had nothing. 
She got away with no issues my five dimes was enough with me and dude smoking in the front of the club/bar.
Tripping in holding and dying for a cigarette they allowed us to smoke longs I shared with the other prisoners. 
The hell pass them out   there was only four of us they scoped up two more while making the patrol rounds. 
We all got to smoke three Marlboro reds before doing a weekend in the tombs of central booking. 
Tripping balls the whole ride, I seen the upmost hell in guards and other inmates. 
I panicked a bit though cause my buddy had no clue we had a murderer in our holding cell.
 He looked at me, the murderer and said what you in for?
I said it isn’t murder of seven innocent souls.
He laughed.
I did to if only you knew what’s coming your way.
Cause of your actions.
Sir someone close to you is going to expire for your sins.
You will a lonely painful life.
He came at me, I said dude do yourself a favor, drop to your knees beg oh holly hell for forgiveness.
The Devil has you locked.
God forgives who all aren’t known to him.
Your first kill was a must.
The others were just feeding a hunger.
You can’t save yourself, at least save your love one.
Wasn’t sure who he was close too didn’t really care either he was trigger happy asshole.
He shot people to just watch the bullets tare through flesh.
He looked and said boy I could kill you.
I said maybe but you won’t you fear those who fight back.
He said, don’t go to sleep.
I said If I did what you going to do your unarmed in here.
Cowards like you always need weapons.
Make peace with God save someone else because there is zero help for you.
It had to be around three in the morning and acid had worn off the chills vomiting and stomach pains.
Sitting in a cell dying for a cigarette just feeling like shit. 
My buddy is telling he has four Marlboros in his boot. 
But we don’t have fire.
I said I do they didn’t take my matches when we were in holding. 
We light it take four tokes each and put it out. 
He said cool.
We did that to ease the trip comedown. 
Coming down off acid sucks without pot.
Instead of that easy comedown.
Acid makes you crash hard it drains you physically and mentally. 
What I see when I trip is the most inner soul of those who I’m surrounded by.
After three days in the tombs day light was like seeing it for the first time in years. 
A dark hole has been lifted upon release due to evidence being lost.
Still I know them two pigs smoked my stash.

Copyright © Joseph Collins | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Tristine Thomas | Details

Steven

He has the biggest heart.

He enjoys doing things for other people

Just because it’s the right thing to do, and

Knowing he made someone happy makes him happy too.

He’ll do whatever he can to satisfy

Everyone around him.

But what about himself?



He always says the right things at the right time.

He’s the first to console an upset friend

And take care of anyone who is in need.

Why doesn’t he take care of himself?



He’s the friendliest guy ever.

Everywhere we go there’s always someone

He waves to, or stops to have a conversation with.

Making friends for him comes so naturally,

It’s as if he was genetically wired to be so sociable.

The friendships he has made are valued to him

Like they are his very own gems to treasure.

But why doesn’t he value himself?



He can make anyone laugh with ease.

Anyone that has ever been in his presence

Can testify that not being amused, entertained,

Or laughing until your stomach hurts

Is never a problem.

His humor is addictive in the sense

That if it were a drug, just a taste of it

Would drive you insane.

How can he not see how much we love that about him?



He’s extremely motivated.

Always striving to get done what he needs to get done,

He lines up the necessary steps to reach his goal.

When he wants something bad enough

He will go out and fight as much as he can until

He is successful.

Does he know how much he is capable of doing in the world?



He’s like a protector to anyone he becomes close with.

Never have I felt the stomach-twisting pain

That fear tends to trigger when he’s around.

He’ll make sure that if anyone ever

Disrespects, hurts, or humiliates

The people that are close to his heart,

They will not get away with it.

Why can’t he protect himself the way he does to others?



He is the best liar I know.

He has a way of tricking anyone

Into believing even the craziest of stories

And they won’t have the slightest idea

That he is lying.

How can he not see that his lies are pushing us away from him?



He can be extremely manipulative.

His words can blind you and

He can convince you so flawlessly

Of whatever he wants.

Why doesn’t he realize he’s hurting everyone around him?



He has a drug addiction.

He craves the thrill and rush

Of anything that will alter his current

State of mind.

Saying no has never been simple for him;

It’s like his mind goes blank

And the only thing he can think about

Is how he can satisfy the urge to use.

Does he even realize what he’s done to himself?



He thinks he’s invincible.

Even after rehab attempts,

Multiple different occasions where jail time was needed,

Endless amounts of money spent on drugs,

Threats being made to him from gang members,

Numerous phone calls and text messages from people wanting their money from him,

And losing most of the people who have tried to help him over and over and over

He will not stop.

When will it stop?



He’s fully aware of how many people he is hurting.

He knows the affect his decisions have on others

And how his actions shatter the hearts of the people who love him most,

Causing them to put him in their past because they were sick of

Him hypnotizing them with words they wanted to hear instead

Or just telling them the truth.

He realizes how many people he’s lost and how deeply he’s scarred

Some of our hearts,

Leaving us no choice but to give up and move without him.

When will he realize that someday he could be doing this alone?



He relies on drugs to temporarily numb the urgency of his own problems.

It could be meth, heroine, or marijuana –

Or maybe morphine, ecstasy, or Adderall –

He’ll do them all and the consequences won’t falter his decision even slightly.

It’s a daily chore to fund his addiction

Along with mentally and emotionally distressing

Due to the constant worry of his health or

What he’s going to do while he’s under the influence.

Will he ever take control over his addiction?



He overdosed after an episode of binge drug use.

He was found unconscious and pale crumbled on the bedroom floor

With an empty bottle of pills to his left

And a syringe still supplying heroine dangling from his arm.

Why did he do this to himself?



He’s been in the hospital for days now.

The overdose has put him into a coma and

No one knows what will happen next.

Crowds of family and friends flow in and out of his room

Tucked away in the intensive care unit

Biting their nails, pacing the glossy floors,

Staring at his lifeless body, or crying until their

Minds grow restless and weak.

The doctors have no reassuring words to reduce our anxiety,

They only tell us to keep our heads held high

And pray for a miracle.

Did he even think this many people cared about him?



He’s been taken from us sooner than he should have been.

His eyes are closed and his body is finally still

And as I look down at him in his casket, trying to memorize

Every last detail of him I can into my brain,

I can’t help but wish that I were laying there with him.

Is this what he wanted to happen?



Maybe he finally realizes that his life could have been so much more.

We’re all gathering around him for the last time

Talking about the good times and the bad,

While tears stream down everyone’s faces and

The sickening feels of grief and sadness

Settle into our guts.

To lift our own spirits we lecture ourselves

That he is in a better place now that he isn’t

Battling his addiction, he isn’t in heaping piles of trouble.,

And he can finally be at peace with himself.

He never cared about the state of his own being

And his life has no slipped away

From all the people who were desperately trying to keep him alive.

Is he happy now?



-t.j.t.

Copyright © Tristine Thomas | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Doug Vinson | Details

Used to go to this Bar

Red light, the neon beer sign on the distant wall reflects off the long expanse of polished bar top, overpowering the quiet brown wood. It’s after lunch, only a few people in to stir the air; the dust motes can settle. Scattered talk of a few regulars, other people’s business, when will she and he be in? Celebrate victories, or manufacture some. 

2:07 p.m. Only three of us now. I used to come here a lot, even though it’s ten miles “up the hill,” out of the river valley into the highlands. It’s obvious the other two people are in all the time. Years back, it was “Bud and Larry,” two fixtures of a bar if ever there were any. I was last in a couple months ago, and saw Bud. He was much the same. They’d found Larry dead at home, 3 years previously. 

Liquor bottles stand on their layered, underlit steps – the temple in front of the mirror, the cathedral of the unclimbables. All those white glass photons going upwards through the fluid.  The bottles stand tall, their inserted “Posi-Pour” spouts all pointing to the left, angled as if flowers toward some imaginary sun.

Rows of polished glassware, sitting and hanging, infinite reflections, each glass a lens of life. They know they can’t make the love come back. Hollow people don’t realize it; most of them end up knowing nothing more than the floor. Take away the lies, the false friendships and loves, and what have you got? 

In a few hours the lights will be on in here, the bar packed with people, the raucous, the driven, the hungry; a Friday night. For now, the bar is patient. Outside the windows, the day floats. 

The bartender is a pretty woman with a great attitude, and in the back pockets of her jeans, a bottle cap opener leans right, and an order pad leans left, forming their own little tabernacle; you can almost see the Eiffel Tower. Humor and good nature, on the rocks. 

Can’t hang forever, have to drive back to the house. Gin is there too, in the freezer with a couple glasses. Pour some cold gin into a cold glass – then add tonic water from the refrigerator compartment. Definitely no ice needed, and lime is up to you. The outside of the glass will fog with icy condensation, but then it will melt, and you feast your eyes on the jewel diamond waterglass platinum mosaic. Cold glass, cold gin, when the tonic water is added, the first quantity freezes, sort of like smoke in water, instant ice, syrup gel silica facets of beauty.

Lots of mighty cathedrals in Europe. And I love The Cathedral of St. John the Divine, in New York City. That’s my home-ground big boy. And since we’re talking New York City, Trinity Church, way down on Broadway in lower Manhattan. Darker stone and stained glass – the first time I walked in there I knew something was up, I mean – HOO AAH – color and contrast. Wow, you can say “Feeling,” or “God,” or “Love,” or this has just got to be some special doo-dah goin’ on here, but it was real. I think that either it is all one thing, or that at the least we are all looking for transcendence - in some or many aspects, depending on how optimistic we are.   

So, the bartender has been looking at me in a funny way. I’ve been scribbling on pre-printed papers for work that I had in my wallet, folded into eighths so they would fit. Luckily, the back side of one was blank. I got a lot of writing done there – I print very small.

Now, I am firmly old enough to be the bartender’s father. And hitting on a bartender is an exceedingly low percentage play. And I love my wife, and am totally faithful to her. Totally. Things are getting busier now, but in the slow time that has passed, the bartender was a bit inquisitive – she mentioned how she had all the glasses washed, all the tasks completed, all her ducks in a row. And there I was, all studious, sort of (while drinking gin), and she said that maybe she should be doing something like I was – writing – “for her classes.” A-ha, that’s it – she just got a job as a schoolteacher. Got the good stance – kids will eat you up, but not this woman – she will command whatever it is that teachers need to command. These days, in the U.S., that’s a tall order. The bartender’s name is Colleen, and she’s gotta be about 30. Maybe a bit less, slight probability she’s a bit more. Got a soulful quality underneath the chipper and bouncy quality so favorable in a bartender, and I think – the steel to be a teacher; she’ll do well no matter what. 

Monreale – this is a big cathedral up high, above Palermo, Sicily. The roar and density of history, the weight and perfection of art, the sublime execution of human caring – just think of it – the “Norman rulers of Sicily.” Wait, what? The Normans were in Sicily? Lots of us have heard about the Normans and England, i.e. 1066, yes, but for the next 90 years or so they were going south, too. 

So, 840 years ago, William II started the church, later decreed a cathedral. What sets it apart for me is the mosaic art – vast in scale, extremely beautiful in its fineness. The Arabic influence is huge, and though I have read that there are even “finer” examples in existence, I have not seen them, and the sheer expanse and impact of Monreale is personally monumental. What it took to make this thing…. There, I was lifted up. When I say, “mosaic art,” I think you really have to see it. 

Back home – I like to mix things up a bit, and after ordering a nice big pizza, I determined to ask the delivery person a question, pursuant to the fact that we are all citizens of the universe. “Tell me something good,” I said, after the knock came on the door. He was a fresh-faced teenage boy – was he even old enough to drive? He stammered in incomprehension. I said, “You gotta tell me something good…” 

“Uh… I got a new car today.” Hardly the philosophical explosion I’d hoped for, but still – he was decently enthusiastic - winner winner chicken dinner. $30 on a $17.95 bill, he went away happy.

Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

EcoCitizens CoArise

EcoMinisters of Earth Rights
CoArise!

EcoLogicians of sustainable tribal might
CoArise!

EcoLegislators of bicameral balancing disposition
CoArise!

What is our highest and best Commons Sense
of currently elected policy-choosers?
Where are our optimal outcomes of Commons Sense?
What does this vast emptiness of positive results
suggest about the Commons Sense
of our electorate?

If we consistently choose the best of partisan nominees,
what does this tell us about the Commons Sense
of our political parties' diversity checks
and inclusive balances?

Do we already share a collective Commons Sense
of what and which and wherefore
our family and friends and neighbors would love to support
before, during, and after voting day?

Who does this Common Commons Sense
commonly hold?
And is Conscious Conscienced Sense
always the denizen only of the richly wise plutocrat,
and therefore unCommon?
and seldom heard 
outside local communications
of mutually subsidiary solidarity
and positively cooperative eco-normics?

Unraveling of superpolitical ego- and anthro-centrism
develops health
by reweaving positive environmental (eco)relationships.

EcoCitizen Primal Relationships
nondually co-arise
without ectosymbiotic revolution
and with endosymbiotic evolution
as does bicameral ecotherapeutic resonance
steer toward Interior/Exterior Health Optimization.

EcoCitizens with fully balanced bicameral consciousness
commonly sense dipolar force of cognitive dissonance
developing
stretching
steering
further articulation of bicamerally co-arising consciousness.

Release of nationalistic
and individualistic ego-anthro-centrism,
transitions toward eco-centrism.
Although not a once-then-done co-redemption;
eco-residency is a lifelong pilgrimage
and privilege
unique to human nature's DNA-evolving
CommonSense.

Eco-Partisans explore a difference
between BusinessAsUsual's competitive economic "growth" agenda,
and a more cooperative permaculturist's "development" logistics
and regenerative political relationships as developmental process,
and economics.

Permacultural EcoLogists comprehend growth
both endo- and ecto-symbiotically,
both within and without growth,
mutually sustainable bilateral healthy development
follows slow multigenerational regenerative growth
as Win-Win optimization trends
in organic, and gaming, and information systems' 
Group ReGenesis Theory,
steered by TippingPoint QBit-co-arising rudders
of Left/Right
as Yang/YinYin
Zero-Balanced Timeless Universe.

Wise pubic and private sector leaders
might join religious/spiritual seers
to recognize
we do not need money
to meet more and more of our overly commodified needs;
but we do need more co-operative eco-logic
to meet all our less commodified
global and local communication
and Beloved CommonSense Community needs.

Gross domestic product
is the total of both cooperatively and competitively produced
goods and services
each family and ecosystem and nation produces,
and most cooperatively produced goods
and services
and information
and grace
and karma
derive from a permacultural prime-original relationship
between Earth and Human Nature's bilateral syntax,
cooperative good-will,
kindness to and with other mutually confluent beings
and systems
and services
and information
and grace
and karma;
transactional relationships of CommonSense;
less commodified with dollars and cents.

These self-other optimizing exchanges
of eco-normic developmental value,
like love and integrity,
beauty and wisdom,
kindness with just-right contentiousness
when national and individual egos develop out of balance,
these are the economic transactions
sustainably waiting for political and familial eco-consciousness,
for developing healthier and wealthier life.

Wealthiest survivors of competitive Win-Lose
sub-optimization strategies
become calcified arteries,
no longer able to stretch toward polycultural diversity,
around the heart of our financial flow system.
Stagnant capital tends to plug up bilateral flow,
tends to stick,
and accumulate ever more fatty tissue,
as bicameral heart failure pursues
its hardening of life's natural/functional systemic
blood, fuel, energy, hope, 
faith in any future.

EcoCitizens CoArise
within political parties
and beloved faith community developers
(is there a difference?)
(should there be such a difference?)
If your goal is to develop
the most inclusively diverse policies,
procedures,
plans for living optimally together
as your beloved community,
and you want to learn how to get better
at becoming this inclusively diverse beloved community,
do you think you will learn more
about your current state of sub-optimization,
by talking only amongst yourselves,
as currently incarnated,
or do you think you might learn more
from those who have tried to darken your door and failed,
and from those who would never think to darken your door
of influence and inclusion,
why and how this absence of YouNow 
has and has not worked out for them
in their familial,
economic,
social,
and vocational,
and cultural lives?

What would those outside your information fold and field
need from you
to share with you
every grace they could contain?

EcoCitizens declare your Win-Win bioethics!
The most inclusively diverse-with-confluent harmonic blend
Polyculture
develops biculturally universal-prime-transparent-relationship;
to sustain uniting integrity
where a BusinessAsUsual monoculture
with hardening competitive-reductive arteries
will fail to optimally thrive.

EcoCitizens CoArise
this Beloved Community's
optimally perpetual-climaxing Eco-normically forming,
functioning,
flowing,
DNA/RNA EarthTribally regenerative, 
CommonSense Party!








Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Ir0nic ZiNk | Details

SOCIAL PRIVY

justice 

What does this vastly misunderstood word mean to you? 

Too what ends? 

May we seek? 

Who(m) may guide us? 

Endless deliberation (spiss spiss spiss)

Debated and glorified by us all 

Beloved; instilled among (a) core integrity 

Coddled and looked upon/after with parental instinct 

Construed through social media 

Society builds (an) imagination

An ideal becoming real

As real as... 

Pain

Life 

Death 

As real as...it gets... 

Trusted by innocence 

Betrayed in founding our guilts

Right depicts wrongs and lies are monologued

Full fledge imaginary tales 

Molded like bacteria into our eternally doomed plaguing generosity after imploding back into from whence it came, plagued in 
Plagued out 

Set up by self 

Righteous justice delivered and plated in first class bull shit-ness

Coffin(g)' bull shit (ness)

Casting lie after selfish lie, inception, role played until perfection carries in action 

Orchestrated beautifully and directed accordingly suiting presentation of currency 
Whether that be in time or it of monetary value 

Emotionally effective, affected by minds' deception 

Chords stroked with brilliance master bated egotistical(s) religiously every night before bed 

Wet dreamt down covered by impost and then ingested along side with breakfast... forgotten  

Conveniently revealed through indecent exposure, then paraded around, as if to be considered within the same sentence(s) as truth; nonetheless, lied through a tooth 

Nails chalk board out records' as screeching can be seen screaming for more farce facts 

Depart from 

Truth 

Depart from? 

Fact 

How? 

How can you expect me to depart from any? 

How? 

As if I can possibly part path ways of destiny 

What am I left with to depart from once I deplane thyself? 

Wouldn't destiny choose my fate prior to departure and my fate be eternally booked reasonably just? 

Depart from society? 

Asking miraculous birth of mortal man; imperfectly deficient (of)

Depart from paths paved in black tar and crushed rock created by belief of/invisible value placing objects, taxed paid tolled and replayed cyclically fooling ignorant man into personally disbelieving in (the) passing perfect dream 

Filling lines at check stands following the footsteps of order

Control 

Instructed to

Portrayed vividly by 

Whispering lies slip through vestal ears and colored in, between the lines 

Lines? 

Lines layed out by leadership and puzzled people are peices used 

Valued by our circumstantial net worth under what true value capable 

Able to 

Impossible to comprehend 

Incomprehensible possibilities 

A perfect perfidy 

Our eternally tragic flaw 

Our destiny 

Or destination 

Currently aboard 

Physical and mental residency

Unreasonably reasoned into reasons (to which we reside)

Everything happens for a reason 

Excusing moral complex of duty 

Temporary relief, masking our seams in convenient tape

Order observed 

The fools fall for it every time!
(HA ha ha Ha ha)

Easy to carry out this conducted charade

Ducks in a row line up to shoot fish in a barrel (word-play)

Bait tackles hooks line and sinker (play-on)

The wheels in the sky keep on turning (word player)

Spinning up webs, interlacing lies formulated with meticulous planning, and practiced... and perfected... 

Sculpted into real life 

Believed intrepidly with ease 

Creation 

Created man kind 

Man kind is in fact, a creation

Singular significance is but a lie away from an insecurity 

Trapping man after man with its tricks and treating him to an easy life, laid out in scripture, utilizing deception to coerce belief in a mass scale. (on)

Social strategy that relies on deception and is ordered and instructed (in)

Climates' of change are handled accordingly, (and) shifts are taken in, (and) handed out as the players rotate, cyclically fluctuating so to suit the finite demands—that is life and also—death 

Who is the (at) top 

Who is the (at) bottom 

Maybe the bottom is the top and the top is simply a cycle shift away from hitting rock bottom (at)

Cycle 

We being the jokers 

All of us

Played by ourselves

Only as great as our greatest and as weak as our weakest and more likely ruled by the majority party (-on dude)

Major jack asses 

(Salute;)

Ordering our own destiny (it would seem)

Collectively dissolving 

Only to be as a lie (the)

A lie we tell 

We believe (the)

Convincing each other of our insignificance and conveniently maintained. (lie)

Filing into lines, we order our own indignation. (righteous)

Interpreted by the "higher" as a blessing and disguised by the "lower" as weakness. (class)

Morals are departed from by the majority and circumstance reveals present coarse while the story tells timely tales as lies are simply adjusted—like a tune—and radiated through glorification; (and) ratified by righteousness to personally appear (as); just. (if)

Justice is what we all reason it to be. (only)

Reasons that make it ok to condone such (a) lie. 

Cycles of life effect change and affect us—accordingly

Cycles are continuous and ironically—polarizing. 

The tip top of the tippy top is but a click clock from a clicky clock—(away)—from rock bottom. (bot)

Temporary 

Circumstantial

Cyclic 

Collected 

And collectively believed at a mass scale majority (to be) perceived and conceived ingested molested and righteousness is ultimately elected; articulated (as) we believe lies (to the) reality (of) such nature (to) become... (extents)

of

justice       

10-31-16
(Boo) 


    

Copyright © Ir0nic ZiNk | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Family Therapy

Multisystemic feminist ecotherapists,
deeply immersed in permacultural eco-logic,
a systematic teleology of cooperative nutrition economics,
remain rarely flushed out from their camouflage.

A self-isolating,
often eremetical,
subspecies,
with shamanic nature-as-spirit tendencies,
our most articulate mentors often wander off
to pray for,
breathe and suffer and dance and sing
with Earth and all Her polyculturing species and seasons,
spaces and times,
avoiding glaring spotlights of media networks
and shallow soundbites.

That said,
perhaps I can share lessons from my children
about internal and external landscapes of justice
and passion,
passion for justice.

Middle Son is my cooperative networking
transgenerational
post-millennial polypath.
At 19, he remains with me,
has not yet wandered off into his camouflage,
in part because I am a slow learner
in comparison to his lightning networked intuitive consciousness.

I am a more thorough and systematic ethologist,
but also ponderously detailed,
like Thomas Aquinas and Buckminster Fuller,
unwilling to leave any paradigm untouched,
producing a cooperative ecosystemic regenerative thesis
and antithesis of cognitive dissonance
that remains undecipherable
except to those few who already speak
and hear
and feel
and see,
absorb, to further revolve, polypathic nutritional multicultures.

What does justice look like for my 21 year old African American eldest son
who graduated from special support services 
at Entitled-Elite Middle Class High School
with a fourth grade cognitive and affective functionality,
no marketable integrative skills other than his physical strength
which shows decreasing likelihood of endurance
due in part to horrid nutrition
lack of self-care
his preference to self-medicate
away from his internal dissonance.

He prefers THC,
although he is angrily aware this means state and federal employment protection laws
form a moat around his buzz,
with all opportunities on the outside
and far too many long-term risks on the inside of his bleary silo of despair.

My loyal handsome young adult son,
recognizes discrimination,
marginalization,
poverty
in comparison to outcomes for self-medicating with alcohol.
It's a cultural thing that old people do to his MultiCultural Transmillennial Generation,
like declaring wars so they can learn to fight each other,
while elders suck our fat wealth deposits into
sport cars of shifty ludicrosity.

His skills do not include multiplication,
much less division,
but he knows when justice divides his population of young adults
looking for their first jobs,
so they don't have to live under tyrannical oppressors,
condemning, rather than helpful, parents.
Self-medicating with alcohol can easily pass a drug screen test
with one day notice from Human Resources,
while my son watches from the other side
of this divide.

Can he get through at least eight weeks without medication
that does seem to help him feel and think better
of and with himself,
and,
given any doubt that any of this makes any sense,
how long before he stops bothering to apply for any hope of a full life?

Eldest son understands the justice and injustice of attending a horribly designed State contracted job training program,
to sit for eight unpaid training hours,
for at least four weeks,
probably six or even more,
in a summer classroom with no windows,
with 29 other ADD and ADHD medicated trainees,
to face the dismissive derision of their trainer
for being who they are,
losers who will never actually be sent through to the paid employment stage of this card-shark process,
violating perhaps every justice principle intended by the Americans with Disabilities Act,
while the trainer draws his pay at our tax dollar expense.

My son was not outraged that the State had no record of contractual oversight,
no evidence that anyone who did eventually get paid could not have done so with one week's unpaid training,
no evidence that there were no other training contractors with the capacity to avoid violating civil rights 
of those supposedly receiving a service for positive,
nutritional outcomes,
rather than rejection and dispossession and dismissal and further hopelessness without incomes,
without icons of economic or political integrity.

He was not alarmed that the Commissioner,
his own State Senator,
his US Senator,
the ACLU,
did not seem to raise so much as one eyebrow
to a misuse of public dollars and trust
with outcomes that could not even perform at the thinnest level of Hippocratic justice:
If you cannot do any good,
at least be sure you cause no harm.

He has become used 
within an economic and cultural ecology
that does not include him,
and others who look and act and perform and breathe and beat their hearts,
and try to balance their bicameral hemispheres as best they can
in a "Business-As-Usual-Means-You-Do-Not Matter" environment.

So, he reminds me of what I recognized long ago,
growing up gay male in a homophobic
hetero-dominant
culture.
I am reminded of what it means 
to have no economic right to employment
and no socially supported right to love,
to be valueless human nature
because intrinsically mendacious,
to be negatively deviant 
from all that feels universally orthodox good,
knowing justice could not include any honest relationship 
within a Beloved Community,
could not include acceptance as a healthy soul
or body
or identity,
as the appropriate offspring of socially acceptable evolution.

My son's bottom line,
"If they wanted to abuse us,
then I wouldn't have minded so much
if they were at least going to pay me.
I'll be The Man's whore if I have to,
but I won't be his bitch."



Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by JW Earnings | Details

Addicted to the Appeal

Verse 1: I'm loving every second of our time together
I'm liking the fact that you aren't a memory, all ablur
I adore you and everything about you
We were meant to be...you came to me out of the blue 
Distance was an acquaintance I met long ago
Spending my hours with you and going my own flow 
Addicted to the appeal in my heavy heart of hatredless passion and rage 
Catching my breath as I run towards the finish line...are we on the same page?
The young heart wants what it wants...sorry to say, I wanna make your day
Don't leave me second guessing...don't make me go cray-cray and reckless, okay?
Daydreaming about tomorrow and its future pain and pleasure
It will leave me breathless and you'll lead me to my haven beyond measure

Pre-chorus: I won't give up on you, though we face our highs and lows
I won't let you fall away 
I'm one step closer to holding you close...be brave and face your foes
Don't be afraid, I pray that you're safe and sound
Don't be scared, be prepared to be lost and found 
You're almost there
Just keep climbing the stairs of  strengthening bliss
We're a perfect pair
You and I will share bottomless happiness and endless progress 

Chorus: Your saving grace, your healing trace 
Touched my hands and I'm longing for your embrace
I want to see your spectacular face
Your eyes twinkle like planet Mars 
In the universe of underestimated beauty 
You zip through my mind like a thousand cars
You are the freeway to my soul that was in this burdensome captivity 
Addicted to the appeal
Love the way you make me feel
Overwhelming my senses but it's no big deal
Your steel spirit encouraged mine to turn the wheel 
To the road of paradise
You're the key to the castle of shameless happiness
And that's something I prize,
Not something I despise...do me a favor and drive away my distress

Verse 2: I beg for your forgiveness to fire me up inside with faith fuel
Understand that I'm a strong guy that uses his words wisely and truthfully, though it may come out as cruel 
I sought you in my dreams every night and I wake up with no one lying next to me
Tears of defeat collapse from my universe, oceanic eyes and I'm rooted to the spot like a precious tree
Our friendship broke apart like the Titanic ship 
But, despite all that, I should still get a grip 
It hurts me to leave you behind...
My mistakes puts my life at stake 
I was weeping when I noticed that I was not your kind 
You try to break me, but I have the strength to move on for my own sake
Don't play with my heart like a iPhone 
Stoned by the feelings of alown...facing the unknown...
Mind-blown by the epiphany of finally finding my place 
I'm not left without a trace...not as I expected! Now, I can keep pace 
I'm no longer a messed-up shoelace, but I'm a brand-new case

{Pre-chorus}
{Chorus}

Verse 3: 
Will I earn you back?
I'm not gonna waste time and backtrack 
I must stay on track 
Letting go is the ability that I lack 
But let go I must 
Or I'll reduce to dust
Or be like a bike full of disgusting rust
My heart is thumping...it has almost bust
Saying goodbye to the tragedies in reverse
Saying hello to the turning tables of our life - is it a gift or a curse?
Curse this feeling inside
I won't cry over the death of today...oh, not today 
I'll save my tears for another time and abide by your side
Something in me has died...don't douse me with your dragging dismay 
Your painful laughter rings in my head in repeat...I hate and love your pride
All night long, we are grinning with sunlit glee
Singing silly songs in unison, it's meant to be 
For the first time, I feel content completely 
You conquered my desires and I'm not growing tired of your presence, glowing gaily
I chased all my demons away 
I invited angels to make my day 

{Pre-chorus}

Chorus: Your saving grace, your healing trace 
Touched my hands and I'm longing for your embrace
I want to see your spectacular face
Your eyes twinkle like planet Mars 
In the universe of underestimated beauty 
You zip through my mind like a thousand cars
You are the freeway to my soul that was in this burdensome captivity 
Addicted to the appeal
Love the way you make me feel
Overwhelming my senses but it's no big deal
Your steel spirit encouraged mine to turn the wheel 
To the road of paradise
You're the key to the castle of shameless happiness
And that's something I prize,
Not something I despise...do me a favor and drive away my distress

Bridge: I can't keep up with your fast-pace mind
I must be blind, but I don't mind being left behind 
I've learned my lesson...you're the treasure that was a fantastic find
I can't keep you because you shattered my soul like the mirror before me...your words weren't kind 
Oh no, not kind...not my kind of words 
Release me like caged-up, absurd birds...
Put me to the test
I will try my best 
I will outscore the rest
I will wear my victory like my favorite vest 
Silent wars has just begun
I'm fighting for the shining son to shine on me like the sun 
Don't desert me 
Don't abandon me 
I breathe you 
I believe in you 
Don't...don't leave me in the dust of my past
Don't...don't forget about me when you run so fast
Hoping you and I can be together forever - a time that shouldn't last 
Don't waste away, my sympathy symphony 
Don't be murder the day, nasty little negativity 
Waiting for you to come home...hoping you'll safely make it home
I will heal and mend your tattered and torn soul
Put your head up and confidently roam...I'm the waves of the sea and you're the pretty foam 
I will sprinkle salt and pepper upon your distasteful flavor...
Miracles in disguise will make you feel whole and our love from above will take its sweet toll

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Joseph Collins | Details

Acid Part1enjoying low grade Trips

Acid part 1 (enjoying low grade trips the first hits)
By Joseph Collins
5/20/17

Low grade acid the first trip, it was amazing.
A tab and a half with 3 blunts of the finest bud of pot.
Eyes of the pupil exploded and the mind went to a new location far beyond the realms of earth. 
Staring at traffic lights turning from red to green from to yellow then red, I saw life, inside the colors. 
In the East Village of Manhattan on Saint Marks place I saw life through colors. 
Man it awesome inside them lights held a laughing skulls soul within them colors, dude had me amused for forty-five minutes till my friends asked we going to move?
I had to leave my skull friend to go four blocks to meet a dude to take my fifty-dollar bill and made it a hindered dollar bill with a quick move of a hand. 
He fucked my head all up that was the most amazing thing his hand moved fast but the trails showed the way into my jacket pocket where the hundred-dollar bill came from. 
He then tried to pocket my fifty.
My instinct was to grab his throat, but my feeling was more suttled, instead I said hey man no need to rob me I share brother. 
He had a dumb look upon his face and he couldn’t speak clearly kind of slow minded.
I said hey, brother come with us we all drinking getting high man join us if you want fun.
He responded with I have no cash, I laughed and said, dude you’re a trip I got you man lets party. I gave him two hits of that mean mountain low grade acid. 
And the fattest joint ever five heads plus him walking the east village tripping balls and smoking pot like it was legal. 
Man, I tell you the shit we saw was fucking great. 
Four hours into the trip made a new friend who tried to rob me, but dude was cool.
On a dark hot summer night in the East Village on prom night. 
Man two seniors one done with high school and another in school who happened to be my lover at the time and a forty year old mental person.
Tripping balls, drinking whiskey, beer, and smoking pot.
I see the 60’s at eighteen.
Dude showed us the best hippie spots through the village to west fourth street.
We were having fun running around the park.
Even at one point we found ourselves naked running in an open field.
It was wild, a real wild time. 
We ended up fucking in the of Washington Square Park, My buddy and his girl, me with mine, and our stranger friend found a hooker. 
If busted we all be facing ten years at most. 
A full sheet of acid a quarter pound of pot in dime bags. 
Cops would have had a career day just by busting us. 
After partying in the park.
We found a Indian bar that had belly dancers. 
While watching the belly dances a visual kicked. 
Man, this one dancer made me see hell she was a wild child.
I see the devil in her soul, so me being the clown asshole I am throw her a twenty and said I’ll have the strongest beer you got and if you show me them tits I’ll let you keep the change. 
She bounced her nipples in my face, so I took it a step further when she came back and asked, how much for a fuck? 
My girl took off running crying my buddie’s woman went after her. The dancer said three fifty for you and him. 
I said I knew you was a whore just needed conformation. 
And laughed. 
My buddie said that was fucked up, I said dude I seen the devil in her soul.
And that’s why she’s addicted to cock.
The ladies return my buddy said is everything alright, I said she’s fine just jealous, she knows I love her that’s why she came back.
I saw angles guarding her, even she isn’t pure in virginity she is protected by God. 
I continued with yes I know bro you’re a Satanist and your woman is a witch, but she is also pregnant.
I scared them both she knew she was man, but my dude didn’t no she didn’t tell me.
I knew cause the laughing skull in that traffic light was her unborn who was already dead. 
Well the trip started getting scary cause the same girl said I missed carried this morning.
I was seeing the future and it was getting worse our stranger dude I seen his life end three days after our meet. 
I warned him and said you got three days of life left. 
Dude took off right after that. 
After finding out I had no knowledge of my buddie’s woman being pregnant. 
Oh, the shit storm I created. 
But I see far beyond the cascade of lies and hidden secrets.
I held them both and comfort them fully that night we made a bond stronger that any group.
At that point, we all decided to head back to Queens to go home, we rolled a blunt before getting on the train and smoked it.
Man I got hit with one more vision I said look we got to move and now, why they asked?
Simple trouble is coming and we are in no condition to fight, let’s move to the next block we walk and smoke folks. We found a bench sat down smoked the silly blunt.
None of us could move.
It felt safe to us all the only thing we agreed on. 
We stayed there all night till the sun rose.
The acid was easing off and we all started puking from the drinking and smoking. 
We all knew we had to go.
On the train we went and stopped at a dinner for breakfast to ease the stomachs.
Shit right there on the TV a couple was stabbed on the train we were going to take earlier by a group of bloods. 
The girl of my buddy grabbed my hands asked, if I was sober?
I think I puked everything I ingested. 
So yeah, I think I am.
She    took my hands and told me to close my eyes and ease my mind. 
Man, I passed the fuck out. 
When I awoke, she was smiling and it was just me and her I said where did everyone go?
She said your gifted. 
People fear you because you are what they fear, you’re faiths messenger.
You’re a medium.
I said really, you are fucking crazy.

Copyright © Joseph Collins | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Stephanie Gutierrez | Details

A perfect world From A TO Z

A perfect world
From A-Z…

Actually addicted attitude apologetic they assume while I'm angst in my room
Bold not blameless but blame shooting out like bullets
Critics just quit it, calculated moves, claim to have your back until you move, characteristics question your character, clear as a mirror but you forget what you looked like when it’s removed
Delicately determine your path, masters diligently try until they pass, watching for the dilettante that move like snakes in the room, digest ridicule and criticism wisely, discussions to the point yet smooth
Eventually working on the spiritual being, endless is eternity, and the heart of life begins with the trinity, effort, education, motivational state enormous, for what’s at stake. Equality still taking shape pray to God every day for Travon’s sake. Jesus the epitome of love unconditional and endless
Fiasco of this world today, fatal attractions, police and firearms, the fatalities of unarmed black life’s, furthermore the division between the rich and poor, fingers pointed in all directions but no one wants to take accountability for self, just watch TV’s realities what a fallacy
Good deeds go unnoticed to the world, Godliness is getting harder to observe, gratitude and graciousness is unfamiliar words, gentleness is shown as weakness, greatness is fixated on dollars signs but those dollar bills can’t save your soul
Haven’t you heard of having a heart, symbolic holding huge weight that’s not heresy, you can say what you want but all that matters is what you display. Hero’s, honorees, happiness, you have to read your history
Idealistic fixations on the wrong things, ideally they envy what they can’t engage, intentionally intimidating the weaker for self-gain, insecurities are mounted up inside just the same.
Jackasses get jacked eventually, just do it like MJ explained, justice gets harder to obtain the darker you are the courts don’t explain, big bodies juiced up not Jamba…broke people need to stop asking for money and ask for a job, if I give you money how great am I if you’re going to need it again tomorrow? Jealousy is ugly, Jamaica’s lovely, jewelry is glorious but a soul that lives forever is better than a soul turned to dust
Kill them softly like the Fuguees, my kindness they can’t rob me of, I spit words like knockouts from a boxer’s glove, I read books daily from my kindle, kneel and pray by myself, untying challenges like knots, I will not stop, nope I will fly like a kite over dark clouds
Laugher is the best medicine, forgiveness needs to be asked for to erase sin, let me never lower my standards, looking out for panthers, lacerations from broken dark times, healed, ladybugs make me smile, I'm laced with the bible, I steady learn from the best, one love
Math was never my favorite subject but I get an A for common sense, musically inclined nothing more calming, like relationships that are mutual, my mentality is to treat others how I want to be treated, mistreated is life, how I react is my responsibility, I never believed in magic, only God performs miracles, in my eyes, my motivation moves me
Negative people don’t come near me, not the one. Neat can still be a mess underneath, nothing last forever, notorious BIG rest in peace
Opposition only wins when you give up, oppression gets knocked down when we stand up, and opportunities need to be available to everyone 
Popularity is worldly, we all poses gifts and talents, you are no one if you’re not yourself, passion is priceless, police brutality we need more than discussions 
Quality and peace are beautiful, quantity comes and go’s just the same, to be the best you have to qualify, experience and the quest that made you who you are
Relationship are hard at times, rainbows come after the storm, and I reminisced on the past had to shake it off. Robbers get free loot but it’s never worth the bars that eventually cage them in. keeping loved ones in remembrance
Solitude try not to break the rules, special thanks to all that believed in me, I'm thankful I believed in myself too. Surely trials and tribulations will come, sin is testing, stop the madness and the sadness will dissolve, shake off the haters don’t give into stubbornness it will drown you and keep you stumbling
Test are necessary, triumph is the goal, transition your mind and a new perspective on life will take form, treasures are best stored in your heart truly the best treasure isn’t here in this world, triggers be aware of, most people are their own worst enemy
Ultimately peace and love is what we seek, understanding and humility takes experience to obtain, I don’t just udder words I'm spitting game, usually it’s the usher that seats you but where will you sit when your eyes close and your soul leaves, and that soul bleeds?
Virtually we all should mature, to be drinking milk like babies when were grown is not a victory, violence never solves a thing, vitamins are good for the body, venomous snakes crawl waiting to destroy, demons look for vacancy, I kill them vocally, I visibly spot them before they have the chance to reach
Won’t stop willingly, wrong is wrong there is no in-between, witches are not just in books, wicked people with vicious plots roam around the world watching, waiting
X-ray vision I spot crooks like graphs, line them up on x-axis, never needed Xanax but I x out negative 
minded characters, 
year yearning for you and those with truth
Zig-zagging people are phony, I rather watch zombies, go to the zoo and feed zebra’s free therapy
A perfect world from A-Z…

© Gutierrez, Stephanie 2016

Copyright © Stephanie Gutierrez | Year Posted 2016

Long Poems





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