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Archive for July 2011

meaningless words (67)

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my pencil tip breaks
stopping the words before
I delve too deep within
leaving me to wonder
if it is my hand
or soul pressing too hard

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Written by burrben

July 26, 2011 at 2:30 pm

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half awake and still
filled with last night’s dreams
as my cigarette cries ashes
like a child finding out Santa
isn’t real or an adult finding
out that God isn’t real.
and I sit in this heat
as the wind is choked
by the heavy, Southern humidity.
I often dream of girls
I’ve loved, or tried to love
and how ugly and old
they must be now,
ignoring how ugly and
old I am now. my mind
is fading; or it may be
the pot I smoked for breakfast.
at least in my old age
I’m still getting three squares a day.

Written by burrben

July 22, 2011 at 3:20 pm

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this doubt that keeps me up at night
can it not end?
the ceiling seems a portal
to a world I want no part of.
my eyes burn red and see
all around me as false.
nothing, nothing in my life
is as I planned.
but what are plans if nothing
but dreams that lie outside
of this terrible reality.

Written by burrben

July 20, 2011 at 2:33 pm

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I sat silently as your
cigarette-stained hands
touched gently upon
my cheek. that espresso
smell, I’ve missed it. those
little, ivory teeth between
the smooth, pinkish lips,
waiting to give pain
with the pleasure. and
I am in awe that this
bird, that I once loved
with infinite strength,
has returned to nest.

Written by burrben

July 14, 2011 at 3:59 pm

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Heaven is real in the minds of those believe.  Any notion of God or a god or gods is real. I am my own god. I control now and the hereafter. This mind of mine, slow as it may be, holds worlds both terrifying and radiant, sorrowful and joyous.  Gracious is the operator who stays true to his path, navigating his being between the infinite universes a life tumbles amidst.

Written by burrben

July 8, 2011 at 6:41 pm

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meaningless words (66)

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my father

the sun

burning high

burning long

feeding life

his children

cold, distant

through living

through loving

through sin

warm up

this heart

dear father

it breaks

Written by burrben

July 5, 2011 at 3:24 pm

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The world needs me as badly as I need it and I am sure we’d be fine without one another. I chew my fingernails to remind me that I’m constantly growing and it is my human instinct to gnaw off the new part of me.  I don’t give two fucks about it all. I sit here at my little table with my little cigarette as these little thoughts about the wonderment of love and the sewers of politics. The bills get paid and there is always a bottle at hand. The outside world is as real as Russia, I hear whispers of it but it remains unseen.

Written by burrben

July 1, 2011 at 4:28 pm

Posted in writing