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 May 2014 Ashley
Madisen Kuhn
it’s difficult
to romanticize the past
or even
remember it as
genuine
when i keep discovering
more and more each day
that everything
you said,
and everything you
promised,
and everything
i thought was true,
was not.
from drafts
 May 2014 Ashley
Madisen Kuhn
when i asked if he had any tattoos, he said
not yet. but if i do, it’ll be to do with God or you.

it has been
76 days
since he
scratched
out
my name
from
his heart
and moved
onto
you

it’ll be to do with God or you.

i wonder if that line gave you butterflies, too.
from drafts
I saw,
a man in a wheelchair,
carrying,
a stepladder.
What was he trying to get to?
I'm outside of nowhere,
Knocking on door,
You're going to ask what's in store?
But I couldn't tell you,
It's white, but glows black and blue,
with nothing holding it,
But still standing like it is a good fit,
I knock again,
Like a writer with a pen,
I feel like I will be happy once I go in,
But nervous because of how it might end,
Feeling a deep breath escape,
It opens.
Written sleepily on a bus.
Another bus ride,
Seeing the cities as a tide,
Taking it in for a brief moment,
Witnessing humanity's atonement,
A collective of its wonder,
As the streets and the construction ring across the ocean like thunder,
But as I sit I also pay attention to it's greatest blunder,
Old lady,
Standing while a young person stares down at a phone,
Do they see her?
But a kid in the back,
Grabs her bag and helps her into the seat,
In one simple feat,
The balance of human's plays in synch,
I stand with headphones in,
My eyes absorbing life that exists,
On this small city bus,
The enchantment flirting with love and lust
My music is playing my soundtrack,
To their lives
Written one handed while standing on a bus...I'm thinking aboot tweaking the ending, it kinda feels like I lost the rhythm...but let me know dear reader
I always fall,
into someone's soul,
everytime I am here.
Not so much aboot the bus ride and more aboot how I read your poems on the bus my dear reader
The devil is in the diner,
Asking if I want more coffee,
Telling me it's free,
I answer that I think I have had enough,
an angel sitting courtside says,
havnt we all?
the ball is gone and a car crash begins,
because in the end who really wins,
she pours me another,
and she hands me another beer,
what am I to make?
with an everyday that everything is at stake?
the music is playing on the jukebox,
the music is playing on the loudspeaker,
but the demon in the car,
and my Savior sitting close,
do I do what I purpose?
she smiles while I place down my tip,
and cheers when the team has won,
I guess in the end,
I can always take more.
What the **** did i just write?
 Mar 2014 Ashley
Sjr1000
When I see God I'm going to ask 'em*
How many chords of wood have I stacked
how many lovers never came back
how many faux pas
how many miscues
how many meanings didn't I do.

When I see God I'm going to ask 'em
What's the most disgusting thing I ever ate
and
who.

When I see God I'm going to ask 'em
Why the birds are always laughing
In 60 million years is that what we are going to do
and what do the redwoods
think about
is that what five thousand years of life
will do
and where did the joy go
ten minutes ago ?

If I see God I'm going to ask 'em
for the perfect poem
the perfect mirror
the perfect thought
the perfect silence
I'm going to ask 'em
to sing one more time
the cosmic hum.

If I see God I'm going to ask 'em
to kiss the ocean
embrace the desert
kiss the mountains
bless the rivers
love the people
I'll tell 'em to love them
as we're supposed to.

And if I see God I'm going to ask 'em
what's the meaning
what's the purpose
what's the solution
and
of course
What the ****?
John Beluchi asked God in a skit when he saw him "what's the most disgusting thing I ever ate".
*him, her, it, the, could have been any this just worked best
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