

satisfaction guaranteedIt was rather ironic that his shirt read satisfaction guaranteed because I was not satisfied. Far from it, in fact the reality was I was laughing uncontrollably to keep from crying. He was sweating profusely, large beads drilled down his forehead before getting lost in his somewhat thick facial hair, only to appear again in slow but steady dribbled that would finally find a resting place over top of the second "i" in satisfied. The conversation wasn't cohesive, it was word vomit, both spontaneous and vile, as the words passed quickly over the metal barbell in his tongue and caressed the yellow stains on his crooked teeth. I wanted him to leavsatisfaction guaranteed


shake it off. please.I shouldn't drive late at night.shake it off. please.
No not after this,
the urge is too strong.
It's a desperate
urge.
No one would notice,
its to early and
yet still to late
for bystanders,
for accidents,
for witnesses,
for traffic lights to change.
This would be on purpose,
no one would even notice
not till morning at least
and it would be so easy to just push
the pedal.


SpeechlessSpeechless I was twelve years-nine months-two weeks-three days old when I said my first word and twelve years-nine months-two weeks-four days old when I said my last. It was dinnertime and we were all seated at the table, both mother and father at opposite ends. Eugene sat across from me recalling his day in such detail that it resembled a novel rather than a simple answer to the same evening question “How was your day?” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He always had a lot to say. I didn’t listen but counted the syllablesSpeechless


Arctic Breath.her breath was cold like the arctic wind; subtly sweet, carried by the breeze, it shrouds me in a fog of lucid clarity- freezing my circuits and superconducting its way into my mind, these cold winds perpetually circulating convection currentsArctic Breath.
of mild affection through my sensory nerves.
a glancing brush freezes my thoughts in place; a glacier pierced by this arctic wind crumbles, opening up landlines and raising telegraph poles of communication- morse code blitzes through wires; as energy is transformed, electrochemisty forwarding my reaction rate as i &nbs


DaughterAt the beginning, the children are perfect. Compelling, bending to our whim. Now they're grown, and have their own dialect. Disregarding orders because of 'him'. Forgetting their chores. Rebelling against you. My aches and all my sores. Are turning purple in hue. "Beloved daughter come help me!" As she starts to turn away. "Act right and unselfishly, You can only start today."Daughter
Growing up so fast. They think they rule the world. Showing them their past. To let their wings unfurl. Let them go and watch them fly. It is now their life, so


summerschillsandspillsofmilkTake off your coat Time to stay awhile Musicals upbeat tune This Fruit you prune All decays to nothingness In time You’ll See So burn your illegal c.d.s Listen up Freshen upsummerschillsandspillsofmilk
Do what you have to Cry over the spilt milk that slipped through your grasping hands Nothing to quench your thirst anymore The “good old days” weren’t so long ago You must still wonder why grandpa told long stories Take your time to learn But don’t come back still crying Put on your coat again Its cold outside
--
"They call me a poet,
I wonder what they would say if
they saw me
from the inside?" -Saul Williams
~Jenn
*
--
I hear
your voice
down the hall, through the window, above
all those trees, a light
it seems
& you are singing. What song
is that The words
are beautiful.
-LeRoi Jones
Thank you so much for watching me
I really do appreciate this and so I hope that you will also like my future work
Sam
--
[link]
Who fights can lose
Who doesn´t fight has already lost!
[link]
--
If you like a piece by an artist, whether poetry, art, photography or so forth, chances are you'll like their other pieces.
One of the qualities that I have is that I think, its not necessarily the best quality, but nevertheless a quality
--
The Freudian Slip
Macellarius Est
If opinions can be lethal, then I am a murderer.
would you be interested in joining ~freelance-writers
--
[link]
With great art tutorials and discussions.
~Sav'
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