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Literature Text
Was there much pain?
When I ripped out your heart?
And placed it beside your empty eyes,
Watching the world erupt in brilliant darkness?
Was there much pain, my love,
When I broke your heart?
And left you crying under the bridge of the
Train where he had first fell in love?
Was there much pain,
I'm sure they said there wasn't
Going to be any, judging from how large
that damn syringe is.
Was there much pain,
When you cut your wrists?
And let the blood flow from the depths
Of your heart, spilling all over the kitchen floor?
Was there much pain,
Because Novocain won't cure headaches
Or heartbreaks caused by a mental
Wound of the heart.
Was there much pain?
When I ripped out your heart?
And placed it beside your empty eyes,
Watching the world erupt in brilliant darkness?
Was there much pain, my love,
When I broke your heart?
And left you crying under the bridge of the
Train where he had first fell in love?
Was there much pain,
I'm sure they said there wasn't
Going to be any, judging from how large
that damn syringe is.
Was there much pain,
When you cut your wrists?
And let the blood flow from the depths
Of your heart, spilling all over the kitchen floor?
Was there much pain,
Because Novocain won't cure headaches
Or heartbreaks caused by a mental
Wound of the heart.
Was there much pain?
Literature
fortune bonsai
The house bonsai tree has been placed by my son onto the veranda railing. The coins from Hong Kong sit amongst the polished stones above the tree’s roots, placed for good fortune. The tree, not used to the rushing winds of Wellington at this height, stays so placed – for now.
cultivated so carefully
our fortunes
to the wind
Literature
grow up they said
here's what it is to be an adult
you pay off your credit cards
and a day later, your hot water heater is no longer working and is leaking all over your garage
you didn't bother to research options
so when you finally realize you can get a cheaper alternative to your fancy coffee drink
you've probably 'wasted' at least $75. on coffee.
you buy things on other peoples' recommendations
and are quickly disenchanted
either with the things, the people, or just buying things in general
you stop hearing
or is it listening
and the magic settles into your bones instead of your eyes
and sparks up at new moments, the baby's laugh,
the way you
Literature
(How funny, or maybe perfect it is,)
to think I am meat
and spirit
while I eat both.
Yet,
I persist
as matter and
nothing.
Of the static,
that door
still gaping,
a hole
in conception,
would it be real
if I understood it?
If I could just grasp
what I'm not
understanding?
Because language, even
these words, are
nothing.
Nothing outside
me.
Nothing before
me.
Maybe less
after me.
And
the idea?
Nothing.
Nothing but
meat
and even
the spirit
stammers
against
infinity,
against
inevitability,
against
itself.
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You gotta give me more, Doc!
© 2010 - 2024 BipolarBearDisorder
Comments1
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we will compare notes when I am done with you. you will have to write. Every word you say now, you will feel. It will be together,but you first my love. I want to savor it for awhile