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Life is a trial. It's accepting
there's a knock at the door
and no one's there.
It's strength in the silence of a room
when fabricated chatter invades
any manner of listening.
It's in the stillness
of being incredibly small
while the world looms beyond
the blank-white four-walled cage,
leering in with a locked-iron look.
It's reasoning without the privilege
of cause and effect.
It's entering a cafe --
an intention to shoot
the breeze with old friends,
then a pause -- intuition
heart in a nose-dive,
"no one knows you here."
It's being surrounded.
Nervous Tension Like A BombNervous Tension Like A Bomb
Nervous tension like a bomb
all Hiroshima on me explode
imploding meta-data abounds
surround sound and ill-equipped
equipment echoed speckled mess
of rubble and troubling in trouble.
Icky sticky mess of festering festivals
of frightening finds ill and erroneous
terrible triumph of terror error
rarer than air and lighter with care.
There, it's there, incredible advantageous
instantaneous cranium of sound
light-bomb pound explode exclusively
around exclusion conclusively reclusion
delicious delusion intrusion.
Mini-bayonet babbling drivel driving
behind little behinds sizing seismic
body quaking shaking belittled
bodies of minimized qualities
in an all-or-nothing sort of sorts.
The short sort of short shorts
hoarded in closet cases and spaces,
places of nowhere and can't-get-there
body minimized and small
cower in the closet corner hoarder
abhorred whore of no-more
and imploring deplorable acts no more!
Score for more the war's the word,
Hypothetic HipsHypothetic Hips
Frustration in the stratosphere.
Stainless steel shoes
I couldn't wear
because the metallic flashed
too damn cold
and the high
These hypothetic hips:
under vexing convictions.
If We Weren't So PoorIf We Weren't So Poor
I bet if we weren't so fucking poor,
we'd actually be good together,
you and me. I bet if we
didn't try so immaculately inane,
our asinine aspirations would run
together diarrhea burp of excrement
to the extreme runny down mucus
veins of shouting through bile-
filled gulping gloating about each payment
capitalism robbed us blind,
tied-up, and stupefied numb
about selling crappy, used possessions
for even crappier, used and abused
possessive sessions of sentiment
about whether unemployment and minimum
wage are enough to "make it" on.
You tell me, darling, if this daring
darling voucher of a venture
will give us one more free one-way-ticket
through our distorted and contorted hearts
so dramatic: (the mute button's on,
the picture's black-and-fuzzy,
and someone's screaming in sepia
like a silenced reel-to-reel).
I wish I knew a slew of condolences
for our plight, but we might, be dancers
with a mighty fine dandy acting candy
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More