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Thursday, April 18, 2019

One Revolution

Oh father come save me,
I am mere molded by your hands. 
When the lights go out,
are you ready to fall?
When the world stops its turn,
are you ready to die?

Please mother come shape me,
alcohol still on my breath. 
Glass antiquity ready to break.
Island waste ready to be found. 

Will we know when we’re found?
Will we live when they choose?
All of these things,
revolve around us. 
Like they wait for us to die.

Remember me

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Just Stop

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Monday, April 15, 2019

Leak 4/15/19

Three posts this week

Just Stop: Visual Poetry-4/16/19 5:00 MST

One Revolution: Poetry-4/18/19 5:00 MST

Continue: Visual Poetry-4/20/19 5:00 MST

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Saturday, April 13, 2019

The Joy

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Thursday, April 11, 2019

I Can't Take This Place

I see you reposed,
and you're stripped to the bone. 
I see you’re alone.

The speaker complains,
through the hall and in vain.
He lives with the chains. 

There’s a suite over there. 
I smile ear to ear,
three rounds to a cheer. 

I put my hands across your mouth,
try to muffle all the screams. 
Makeup starts to run real thin,
while it smudges about your face. 

I can’t take this place. 
It’s something I can’t relinquish. 
With the way you look at me. 

I can’t take this place,
This has a upsetting space. 
Wish things can go back,
to what they were. 

Remember me 

Tuesday, April 9, 2019

Make It Loud

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Monday, April 8, 2019

Leak 4/8/19

Three posts this week 

Make It Loud: Visual Poetry-4/9/19 5:00 MST 

I Can't Take This Place: Poetry-4/11/19 5:00 MST  

The Joy: Visual Poetry-4/13/19 5:00 MST 

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Saturday, April 6, 2019

Someone Other

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Thursday, April 4, 2019

Upstanding Citizen

If we’re going to have,
the alcohol,
I need to make,
this right. 
You said you were sure,
and you were fine. 

Do you need to talk for a bit,
to explain your story?
Before the story of,
what were drinking,
makes the night. 

I’m not lying,
if I’m dying,
to know what,
brought you here. 
You have a ripped shirt,
made of flannel, 
and you say you,
can’t hold your liquor. 

It looks like you’ve,
been hit by a bus.
Or been down,
on your luck. 
I just want to make sure,
your next choice,
won’t be your last. 

Don’t let the alcohol,
define your joy. 
Or whether or not it,
will get you closer to your boy. 

There’s some 
sick people,
in this world. 
They will do things,
to you I’m told.

You look like you,
would rather talk.
Or leave this place,
and begin to walk. 
I just want to make sure,
your next choice,
won’t be your last.

Let’s take that walk,
and do a proper talk. 
Let’s get you where you live,
and not in some strangers home. 
I just want to make sure,
your next choice,
won’t be your last.

It’s not that they hate you.
It’s not that they think your ugly. 
It’s not that you were a strange child.
It’s not that they don’t care

I just want to make sure,
your next choice,
won’t be your last.

Remember me 

Tuesday, April 2, 2019

The Lie

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Monday, April 1, 2019

Leak 4/1/19

Three post this week

The Lie: Visual Poetry-4/2/19 5:00 MST

Upstanding Citizen: Poetry-4/4/19 5:00 MST

Someone Other: Visual Poetry-4/6/19 MST

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Saturday, March 30, 2019

Run Away

Thursday, March 28, 2019

Showing My Love

Looking through the house,
waiting for the day.
Could I be the one?
Don’t give your life away.
Maybe I will get some more haste
Maybe I will see my life end. 

Crawling through the floor,
quiet as a mouse.
the searchlights are on,
looking for me and one more. 
Maybe I’ll see the light of day. 
Maybe I’ll get away. 

I hear in the distance,
Can you spare a light?
I swear it’s the last time.
I see in the streets.
Can you spare a dime?
Just need some change. 
Give it to my son,
he’s worse off than me,
showing him my love. 

I can see,
I can hear,
the things you do,
when I’m near. 

Just make it by,
buy a life,
one last time,
this time it’s mine. 

I hear in the distance,
Can you spare a light?
I swear it’s the last time.
I see in the streets.
Can you spare a dime?
Just need some change. 
Give it to my son,
he’s worse off than me,
showing him my love.

Remember me 

Tuesday, March 26, 2019

Inner Depths

Inner Depths by Sean Bachman 
Medium was digital 

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Monday, March 25, 2019

Leak 3/25/19

Three posts this week

Inner Depths: Art-3/26/19 5:00 MST By Sean Bachman

Showing My Love: Poetry-3/28/19 5:00 MST By Corey Rhodes 

Run Away :Visual Poetry-3/30/19 5:00 MST By Corey Rhodes

Sean Bachman is a good friend and has provided a piece for this week. 

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Saturday, March 23, 2019

Caught Fire

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Thursday, March 21, 2019

One With The Flame

You’re all here,
let’s make the move,
are you ready to walk?
The fire consumes all that lie,
do you want to feel alive?

Words of wars,
are consuming,
the state. 
Do your worst. 
Feel the blaze,
and let them in. 

I am a monster,
with a lovers curse. 
It’s do or die,
try to live this night. 

I can’t stand it. 
The way you look at me. 

I ruled the day,
it fell away. 
I took a gamble,
on the things I love. 
Now I got to get out of here. 
I ruled the day,
it fell away,
I loved you when I felt strong. 
Now don’t fade away. 

I’m out here in the flames,
of love. 
I wanted to show you,
the easiest of ways.

I’m out here in the flames,
of love.
Maybe one day,
I’ll take that chance,
and be one with the flame.

Remember me

Tuesday, March 19, 2019


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Monday, March 18, 2019

Leak 3/18/19

Three posts this week

Nonchalant: Visual Poetry-3/19/19 5:00 MST

One With The Flame: Poetry-3/21/19 5:00 MST

Caught Fire: Visual Poetry- 3/23/19 5:00 MST

Remember me

Saturday, March 16, 2019

Apostates Sedition Part 3: Pandemonium

Behold, I have seen a great suffering. An event known only to those who had to endure it but no doubt a great suffering indeed. There will be a mass death conducted by one man with his machinations and corrupt soul. However, his weapon is through the power of words and not violence. A man corrupt in mind and soul, spirit and body. A true machination created by the Vagabond to destroy the life that she witnessed before her eyes.

The machination of this man is simple words. Words that were created by a man just like him but different in purity of soul. A great suffering will fall across the globe just with the simple idea passed by the machination but even though a simple idea, it creates a major weight to the world around us and other worlds to come. The simple words will create a great dread in those who hear the machination. A dread so powerful that no one will wish to continue to live and take their own lives. A great suffering created by the man who does not belong, the beginning of the end. He will end many lives just by his presence and he does not belong. 

The man is nothing like I have seen before. Created by the Vagabond to right a mistake and to destroy all that has been created. A man to be known as Pandemonium for the destruction he will cause to many. Known as Pandemonium for the pain and suffering he will afflict to others. Known as Pandemonium for his soul is corrupt from the start. One can only hope that this man will be stopped but he lives on another plane of existence and can only be stopped by my teachings once he has arrived to our plane. Much destruction will happen before he comes to us. He will do so much damage that it cannot be fixed but there is a silver lining. 

One day, he will be defeated regardless of his power. He will lose his power to those who wish to avenge the deaths that he had caused. Though it will not replace the holes that he has created, one day we will see a brighter day with no more death and suffering the streets will be paved with gold and life would be eternal. There cannot be good without bad, there cannot be light without dark. Their wont be a great peace without the great suffering. It has been done, it has been said, and so it shall be. 

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