You know what its like not to understand a math problem? The variables don't add up to your desired outcome. That's what God feels like to me. The only difference is that I like math and I don't like the idea of God. Maybe that's why I believe in numbers and not religion. I guess you could say existence is subjective Diverse minds give way to diverse thoughts, But I am also convinced that I am right.
division.
Author: Isabel Szatkowski
0
Date: 24/01/2020
№ 1127954
Division
One
His blood boiled out of him To replace the vessels with cold lead. The razor stopped in his throat and Cut open the breath that did not cry But drew our own breaths out of us. It's all smoke tangled in the air And he felt the sudden insignificance of himself.
He doesn't have a beat to outline a pulse Anymore. You can haul the limbs off now Far far far to the right of the earth, Mr. Coroner, We don't have plans to go there anymore. We don't need his dry foot in the roots anymore.
Two
Can't you find peace, man? He found the end of a hollow point And a sun too bright for days like these.
These are earthquakes he can't feel anymore; Magnitudes shaking the sweat off his bones That he doesn't know anymore; Hot floods up to his red eyes that He doesn't see anymore.
He reached the beginning of an edge And a shelf too low for highs like these.
Three
They say he dried up. He's at his whitest in the bones With a graveyard mouth, And a tombstone jaw, And shovel hands.
The hounds arouse and quicken. The skin itches and He's trying to take it off. He wants a division of things, And I, a sort of saint, Offer only addition And a metamorphosis that would Poison the ground.
division.
Author: Swells
0
Date: 23/01/2020
№ 1120826
Division By Three
Write me a melody. Nothing too simple, though that's what you lead on Building a bridge over a lake of fire Ah! If only fire could swim Grilled fire on a side of living gargoyles. Forked tongues shoveling rice, And chicken, Into a newly refurbished brain. Does it burn? All the seaweed and hackneyed Washed up krill, Burnt up, skewered, and caught in the nets. New mesh scales Mashing mesh sha shooting into the skin While the sun circles And the animals follow and dance Preying themselves into everything you've done As though you've done anything new. Like addition multiplication, Surely you've done all of that. A tear in the paper And you've spilled the white out. What a mess. A great tear in the universe Arranged. Separate colors of Grass and sky, The trees and sidewalks form into one. Everyone adjoined and nothings lost Because even this idea has a partner. What a lovely (shattered) Dream.
A blustery March day In February Leaves form a pigs tail for The Devil Doves sway common on wires Makes me feel like Jesus It is happy here Typical regeneration of entropy Mountain fences zig-zag Along side asphalt Flake deed Chalk angels blow Blue wood wing in Counter clockwise Motion Sentient white cat eyes Knows me for what I Am I cross myself Leaves hover above a Dead blackbird as if its Resurrection Were at hand
Lost was the soiled sins of Lebanon, While rats made tents in capernum, History became the basket of Abraham, While the egyptians yowl in river jordan.
Not too far, birds of the sky waved-by; Fear of abyss crowned all the standbys, And heaven wept and wailed clouds of pain, Behold, the moonlight stained her walls with pain.
Devil is evil; heaven is haven I say, Deceive oneself to sin and death is your pay, Rob a joyful soul and measles from Egypt... Will shelter your healthiness to six-feet.
Yes, your raging anger can't lit a banger; Your pot-mouth can't swallow a leather; Breath is an advocate of life and a-mole for death, Heaven is for everyone and not for well ironed shirts.
Try working in a nonunion shop Screwing on bottle tops In August heat, begging the boss To use the phone in his air conditioned office To call home, Check in on Mom, Even on your own dime At lunch time; Working on the bottom rung Among sweat-stained princes Who get to drive forklifts Because they're so much better than you, Dreaming that one day They'll be allowed to push buttons And throw switches, too, Which is why they don't share lunch With the bitches who Sweep floors And paste labels on boxes; But the cool air Never made it out there Where any of us worked.
Solitary ravens perched atop their mothers bosom Constructing transparent barriers On a plane of possibilities A concrete mirage rises from symbolic repletion As the solemn statue views the scene with tragic contempt Species indifference aborted As unity is easily cast aside and omitted Left to brood on a cache of fertility And navigate the foggy facade Exiled, Hermetic, As the beaming banner Lazily plays sentry To the border of the indentured oasis
The sun burns cold, As the light of day is heavy. Air, suffocates as we stride, Filled rooms are empty, To the soul set free. Celebrate this living, Wake into death, Revel in the joy division Of petrified choice. Taste the one flavours Of lime and water As you tread on others With feet waiting to crush. Hear the birdsong. . . Not for you but the sun.
