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Shadowboxing Peter Pan

 

So easy when the world is there.
To bend their knees.
The hope­ful stare.
Hope­ful they will catch a drift and teach her eyes that they exist.

8.24.13

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His­tory so clear in drift­ing sym­phonies of fear.
Hap­pi­ness so near we trust in us our road we steer.
Col­lab­o­ra­tion is.
Rocket fuel to give.
If giv­ing marks your dream its with the world your dream­ing lives.

8.23.13

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The replace­able man has invis­i­ble hands.
All he cre­ates build the feet where he stands.
Bro­ken and built as a jester on stilts.
Shap­ing his mind til with demons its filled.
Break­ing him­self and con­fu­sion and health.
Shar­ing and los­ing with lov­ing as wealth.
Wealth of the dreamer with wings that can melt.
The path it leads breath­ing ela­tion is made.
Its also the way to the loneli­est place.
Cre­ation can give and it takes just the same.

8.22.13

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Lost in the darkness a climb with no harness.
Scaling a mountain and reaching up armless.
All we can take is one step as we find.
A path that can move and stimulate lives.
Disintegrate minds that live for themselves.
Living inside just to generate wealth.
Powerless dreamers but still on we cant.
Give up the fight.
Give up our stance.
Give up a chance to walk with a print.
Cause living is giving though brief in its stint.
Changing the world is the deepest of struggles.
But if you can manage to change just one other.
Your overall impact in numbers has doubled.

8.7.13

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He walked up to a door it was locked he had no keys so he walked away in haste into the wrong reality.

The boots they had no trac­tion when he tried to climb again so he fell onto his chest and for­got to use the pen.

Blinded eyes with vision hang­ing doubts in outer space so he put on his new boots and used the things inside his face.

Reach­ing break­ing down in search of faces in the crowd each wak­ing thought embrac­ing all imag­i­na­tion scream­ing loud.

Still deep through his mind and ears he could not hear a sound until he found that loom­ing door again and broke that fucker down.

7.11.13

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Some­times you feel like the world is on your shoul­ders til it falls down to your feet and it lets you take it over.

7.11.13

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Maybe if days are warm.
Knights can still have arms.
Light can still mean dawn.
Despite our flight alarm.

Per­haps if thought­less words.
Right the wrongs and learn.
Sight would fly us birds.
Rewrite the life concern.

One day if hands cre­ate.
Brakes may mis­be­have.
Stakes will change our state.
Alive with lives to save.

7.2.13

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Know­ing noth­ing knowl­edge.
Act con­fu­sion col­lege.
Search­ing wrong hori­zons.
Leav­ing while arriv­ing.
Striv­ing steps behind.
Climb­ing in rewind.

Div­ing slow but sink­ing back­wards.
Know­ing noth­ing speak­ing lack­ing.
Act­ing shows and sleep­ing swiftly all the while worlds are drift­ing.
All the while con­tents shifting.

Show­ing some­thing knowl­edge.
Light infu­sion progress.
Work­ing long sur­vival.
Leav­ing for arrival.
Rid­ing steps ahead.
Alive no art is dead.

7.2.13

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Emi­nence front and lever­age stunts.

Tak­ing what we want.
All the words are blunt.
Tak­ing only us its the lit­er­ary grunt.

Crazy looks our crazy books cre­ate mis­un­der­stand­ing.
Missed results from lazy cults of lives of urban plan­ning.
Verbs they fly with phrases thick to find the triple eye.

Never will the pen go dry.
We lose our minds until we die.

7.2.13

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Shad­ow­box­ing Peter Pan.
Reflec­tion­less the walk­ing man.
Cloudy trails in end­less sand.
Rain and dark­ness hold­ing hands.
Shad­ows need for their cre­ation.
Light to frame a shin­ing patient.

6.10.13

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