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Nine Lives
rambo

The city lights streak in neon blurs,
 1
Gazing out the window—my forehead
 2
Gathers sweat from a broken fan
 3
I may never break these cuffs of poverty,
 4
This cycle,
 5
Sees only sorrow it seems for some
 6
But my gaze—
 7
I see this immaculate weight of freedom
 8
Crushing the fetters of food stamps and cold
 9
 
 
It’s the raw intangible strength
 10
Grace—
 11
Quite simply,
 12
 
 
A tearful appreciation of that great kindness,
 13
Now pulsing through my veins as the very blood of Christ
 14
Flows through me now a canonized saint of the living
 15
Now more alive than any before,
 16
I keep my communion for long lonesome nights
 17
When I call that great love down inside my chest
 18
And wrap up in myself—the ecstatic touch of my own skin
 19
The closest to heaven I’ll ever be
 20
Is strung out in a shady studio where prayers still cannot escape
 21
The leaking ceiling, only gathering in buckets strewn about the floor
 22
 
 
It is not all death and suffering,
 23
I live—for a while
 24
In heaven’s hoax I revel in this voluptuous veil
 25
A mask,
 26
Worn only when the tides of fate turn against this vessel
 27
Left out to drown.
 28
But such a death I embrace every night as I asphyxiate,
 29
Chocking on weight and matter too grand to comprehend
 30
With glassy eyes and heartache, not on this night—
 31
Tonight I’ll take the short run of things
 32
And leave my hollow prayers to fill more buckets
 33

24 Jul 08

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the city, gazing, gathers -- i may too, but my gaze crushes grace -- a tearful communion, closest to heaven, and it's not all death and suffering: in heaven's hoax, i embrace the choking night, asphyxiate the heartache and thousand natural shocks that flesh heir too! in this regard, our spirits turn away and fill more hollow buckets, deep... and miles to go before i sleep, cause, death be not proud.
 — joey

hmm, nine, er nice poem.
: )
 — fractalcore

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