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orangecat bluebandanna Poems
dinosaurs are dead
Dinosaurs are dead. Pretend to believe in dinosaurs Like triceratops with three horns Jutting out of his armor forehead
yawn then drill
lay in the flo or bed
I want to bring you back home. L a y in the f l oo r be d Watch the p u r p le house In the wi n do w
hollow.... who pretended to listen to me? who really never listen to me? who thought it where jokes of what matter to me.
sole of my shoe, no soul of my body
with gravity filling, holding space to the surface of our skins, each pore it seeps in, through our blood cells and organs, all pulling our sub-conscience towards the moons and other planets to the stars, controlling every breath and thought rev elated to someone, in here or
Gallant suitors drooling from the tips of their tongues hung out of mouths like starved dogs, Slovenly sipping phlegm through throats into guts Reflection in mirror
incendiary flux on busted soggy wood Salt water slu.t, you leave all my hopes and dreams Alone, talk to you like a seagull
Sit ............... I was sitting
time is man made
And a 1 2 3 4
orbiting around another like planets
shapes and ships
bring me to your island before you go missing in the forest across the ocean
halifax, south end
the harbor is right down the street i can watch giant ships float by, the city buildings are just small enough to see the sky, big enough to make you feel really small, the people are so sincere,
love is how you use a pencil
love is how you use a pencil there was a giant sky scrapper, on the outside of the building leading up the front were two outdoor elevators parallel to one another. with no entrance to the building from the sidewalk, the only way in was through one of the elevators. You were there, along with us a group of our friends. The ambience was dynamic as we all packed into one of the elevators, and road up. Once we were on, all of you around me became opulent and cordial. My feel wasn’t as warm, it was more of an apathetic tentativeness of anticipation for something, who knows. when we arrived to the top, I found myself alone, I have been riding the other elevator. I watched the rest of you get off, walk into black, with a resonance from laughter and conversation as the rest of you vanished through the shadows of the hall. “Well I’ll just catch up with them.” I said to myself.
Morass, swamp, your effervescing landscape An ideal place to start excavating From top, to down, Into your lavishing abyss,
Comments about orangecat bluebandanna
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
dinosaurs are dead
Dinosaurs are dead.
Pretend to believe in dinosaurs
Like triceratops with three horns
Jutting out of his armor forehead
Or pterodactyls soaring in and out of cloud mist
Skimming peaks of mountain ranges.
They are all in the ground now
So let’s grab the shovels
And make some holes.
with armor and swords marching
Up it’s spinal column.
Mowing down fields of weeds and grass
Conquering the verdure of tracts.
Varicolored imaginations of fictional beings
Living once on the ground we now stampede on.
Once afraid of tar