What’s The Point?

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What is a biscuit made, without you  to taste it?

Sheets changed without you to loll in their fresh glory?

What is a dance in the kitchen

Without you to tease me.. please me.

A walk in the woods

How is it made good?

Tell me this. Tell me more.

I beg. I implore.

I cannot see the point without you.

Lots of dark clouds. No blue.

But sometimes when I stop and taste the soup

Smell the candle burning

I stop yearning.

(c) Slumpless

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Speak To Me

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What are you trying to tell me, universe?

Please speak to me. Make me see.

Just as I think the last drop of him is gone

I’m wrong.

Again.

Just as I pat myself on the back and guzzle down a drink of happiness

He appears.

Then all my certainty is gone again.

All the things I promised …

Well they just go.

What does he see I wonder?

Nothing.

I’m nothing.

To him.

But if he could look inside.

He would see the the swirling galaxies of my soul

And he would know that there are depths to me

That he chooses to ignore

Chose to shut me out.

But I know enough to try and learn

That from this yearn this never ending burn

There’s something to be gained

I’m being trained

By powers greater than me

And definitely bigger than him.

So I suppose next time he crosses my path

Next time he passes me by.

I won’t just ask why?

But how? And why now?

Maybe then.  Just maybe

It will all make sense.

Maybe.

(c) Slumpless

 

 

Umbrella

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Today I spilled right out of my skin

My blood ran over and over

Full of wonderful life

I wanted you all to know what it was like

To look at wind the same way as I do

To see the swirling leaves dance especially for me.

I think I entered a wormhole on my own

Because everyone else was quite forlorn

And when I danced in the rain

They put up their umbrellas.

(c) Slumpless

 

 

 

VamPyre

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As you dwindled on the pyre

Sparks flew higher and higher.

Then one brave spark came to me

I watched it flicker, it was all I could see.

Through my stomach it burnt its way

And I was filled with you and what you could do

The magic spark that your life was made of

Was the making of mine now.

I knew I had power.

You had bitten me in death

With your smokey breath

While your embers  are still burning

I am already turning.

Fyre. Desyre.

 Vampyre.

(c) Slumpless

 

Circle

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I’m calling for a revolution

And it starts in your own circle

In you own sphere.

With those that you hold dear.

Or did.

Try with them. Try your best

Let old follies and rages rest.

Hold out your hand in peace

Let your own battle cease.

These small wars. These small rages

Blot you life with blackened pages.

But when you look to bigger wars

You can’t understand the cause

It’s hard to see a reason

Why murder and violence mark every season.

But look at your life.

Examine your soul

Let the mending begin at home.

This revolution can be small

And might feel no good at all

But I promise you that if you all take part

The vibes of progress will really start

To spread outwards from its core

And overlap more and more

And soon your circle will be the world

And your tiny voice will have been heard.

(c) Slumpless

 

Rust

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Your looks will fade my love

And all the endless preening will come to naught

I was once like you

In other flames, my comfort sought

I let my fire dwindle while I stoked theirs.

And danced like a dervish and whirled through their stares.

Slow it was, the creeping decay

Which turned copper to rust

Grass to hay.

Until one day they looked no more.

And my inner workings were merely gore.

Left uncared for … my brain did rot

And thus it is….my unhappy lot.

So  dance my pretty

I’m not saying no

But keep your inner fire burning

Because your looks will go.

 

(c) Slumpless

Malongering

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My sad eye is pressed up against the wall

I heard the nightingale’s silent call

Out there everything shimmers

You  in the middle of a lake that glimmers

Flora and fauna and mossy roads

Faeries and pixies and croaking toads.

Water spouting out your finger

A thousand reasons to let me linger

Staring out at your bright world

Ignoring the fact that I’m being absurd.

Is it better to have a crack

Or does it just highlight what I lack?

(c) Slumpless