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Gord

2023-01-11 06:09 pm
A rabbit runs free, in the past,
Toward nothing it finds meaning.
Fish of streams, pivot teeth,
Laughter, tongue chatter, sea.
By the brine they find peace,
And man, king of beasts.

Man forms groups, 
Parts in two, like lips,
The bartender and you.
Glass tightly in a grasp,
Like a woman's clasp,
Like a rabbit in a trap,
Wiggle dance, calls,
Nobody calls back.

Like man, cash advanced,
Wiggle dance, calls,
Calls, nobody calls back.
That man can run like a rabbit,
Dance like a rabbit,
Hears like a rabbit,
Fears the language of diagrams,
Candles and passwords.
He describes freedom, devoid of it's traps,
Talking about assholes out of sadness and anger.

He tries to understand, too foolish in banter,
Expanding his mind with standards that matter,
His reaction barely examined, rather managed,
Inside he feels his wiggles, the dance begins,
What can exist, he thinks as a passing thing,
Kicks and springs his feet, never hears a ring.

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Gord

2022-12-09 03:01 am
In his future he sees tired coughing,
The seer mundane usually finds nothing,
Only peering back upon seared meat,
Apparently to be, or feel something.

In his mind, he wishes to be someone,
See his sums upped, feel unusual.
He is detached, however, like Buddha,
But he has an even broader usage.

Once again he peers into the ether,
He sees himself equal and decent,
Sears at the breathing creature,
Fears his lack of freedom.
"Coward", he screams,
"Coward", he casts his disease.
Pulls from inside himself, meaning.

He sees his reflection again in the mirror, 
Breathing heavily into the air, at first,
But eventually he cried with realization.

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