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BANG the bump baby
grind the juke
and snort the junk
you stand in your skaters
at the edge
knowing that the ledge
you wont make it

in your nightshade crosses
and tailored

admit it your lost

but deep in pockets
in baggies and twine
throw that cheap gutter
and dial an emotion
get in and ride
and we can hit a plateau
and feel fine
slip out of the hour

patchoulli and oil
that look
on the smeared
and smash a vertigo
with a need

hit the floorboards
when the rubber bites
the hollow quiet of the night
scream away the madness
arch your spine
and release it to flight

in a babydoll whisper
when the night burned
i bent and kissed her

only the devil saw the mad scene
the torniquettes and bruises
we're all just broken ghosts
trying to hold it from falling off
our fake worlds
and coked up hearts
dye your hair red
tear up darling
sit up higher
and be my fave good girl
a sweet tart
while we sideswipe madness
and elope with sparks


Editing stage: 


Well I can't say I understand this poem - but I like its psychedelic nature and I've learnt some new words! My son is a free runner and it kinda feels like a word picture describing a free runner - though I suspect I'm way off the mark!

You have some creative phrases in this poem - that spark the imagination.

Love Mand xxxx

just got in from my walk on the little local trails.....old farmland on glacial rounded escarpment...
glacial till boulders and hummocks that even the pioneers left...some stone piles here and there..
a lot of half decent growth..nothing large like where im from....some creeks that meander here
and there amongst the one then took time to make a direc creek bed..allowing it to be..
takes time to use a pick and axe and shovel to move what god left for us..and nature.....and the
small bike trails the bikers and horseback riders use is old cars up there or scrap
piles...nothing of great home old round half ovid for a reservoir that
is reduced now and filled with a little glade of trees....some old fire pits when people did that kind
of my army jacket for pockets and a little canvass pack like the radioman in vietnam
would have worn.....bright yellow like the british liked...almost floatation yellow like the fliers..
i never got in the military and never tried....mental health writing is is
psychdelical......because i like social things and do like structure i talk in a code that defines nothing
only piques a rapport...a safe kind of intel exchange with hanging a maze view..
i love words....and one line wit is my fave........sentences that only spark questions...i love that..
random....along with the formality that i like also..... we sensed some animals...i have the shar pei
on a lead..she is a tracker and very strong....been doing this for a year almost now.....tracker and beast
tracker....i have great respect for those whom work with animals or are dependent on them for seeing
sensing danger and phones for the deaf..and others....they are service and love...

i could write very dfined but gave up on it.....there is so much to see...i am very sense based and hyper
about a lot of it.....the videos i love just fuel that imaginative part of my stimulus in my brain.....
basically thats all i want is people to scavange something of the poetry to spark maybe something for them
to build on too......

thank you very much Mand.!

author comment

Loved this one it flowed as a Picasso,
Colours raining down on the scene.
Held in check by the thread of life
There running through the piece a love of surroundings.
But these are from my think maybe not your way.
This one had me held with feelings running deep.
A legacy passed down to you from the ages.
Run young Wolf the land is yours.
As always Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

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