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 May 2018 anastasia nikos
r
So long, love,
say gnite honey,
I'll go pull a stump,
so here I am, the field
of night all around me,
crazy, sad and lonely,
what love there was,
like a bee on a rose
buried in the year book
of past attics, you never lost
my shadow because I
never had one beside you,
though you did lose a ring
once, or twice,
you were like a woman
holding mirrors
over the spring, there
are screws
in the window sill
never sunken to hold
a pane, you don't listen
for me in the rain
anymore, you lie yourself
back into the one
you think you love, cruelty,
cruelty, cruelty, that's all
you've ever known, my love.
When your young kids are scared of monsters
You tell them
You know a witch who taught you
A magic spell
It goes...
Any mean monster that comes into this house
Will instantly be turned
Into a mouse...
It really works
And kids can sleep peacefully
I had to add the "mean" part, because my grandkids got concerned that Cookie Monster, or Grover might come over, and get turned into a mouse.  This goes to show that kids are incapable of racism.
my friends think that when I refer to women's
history I'm talking about the history of *****;

my friends aren't the only people who get me
b/c when I speak about women I'm ultimately
saying every creative process that ever existed;

I'm saying women exist in wildly different forms
throughout existing creation which creation is
itself a form of female energy; not woman u say;

look at her mate; the mammalian male has a
sting like a bee or wasp but instead of poison it
spits living protozoa into her dark mysterious depth;

living creatures are merely protozoa mediated
through the female form into the resemblance
of its male & female originating progenitors who
themselves are the product of the same process

so when I refer to women's history I'm talking
about the history of the universe w/in & w/out
Mom
You're dead now
****** overdose
But if you were alive
I wouldn't call
You were terrible
Calling me "****" all the time
Beating me up
If there's a Mother's Day
Category
For worst of all time
I'd nominate you
And you'd win
Let's have a moment of silence, for those who understand.
We who lack the knowledge; children beaten by the ******. 
Infected by the hurt inflicted, by just a single hand.
This silent moment is for those who hid their father's brand.

For those who lie there centered, in the evil play of man...
If you find this poem relatable and it clings onto your mind.
Look back on the ones who've hurt you and do right where they did wrong.
Try to find it in your heart to forgive them; throw it all behind.
If you can cast away your resentment, you are clean, fresh and strong.
How different    would   society develop
if we differentiated between
white or black science?
I haven't been inside a church on a Sunday
in quite a while; from what I remember it's
like they're worshiping an absent king &
everyone is pretending that he's right there
Making a new start, starting from fresh in the rain, 'Why should anyone want to hurt my little heart, my feet, my little hands, my skin that I'm wrapt in because God wants me warm and Inside, my toes—why did God make all this so decayable and dieable and harmable and wants to make me realize and scream—why the wild ground and bodies bare and breaks—I quaked when the giver creamed, when my father screamed, my mother dreamed—I started small and ballooned up and now I'm big and a naked child again and only to cry and fear.—Ah—Protect yourself, angel of no harm, you who've never and could never harm and crack another innocent in its shell and thin veiled pain—wrap a robe around you, honeylamb—protect yourself from harm and wait, till Daddy comes again, and Mama throws you warm inside her valley of the moon, loom at the loom of patient time, be happy in the mornings.
I walked into the freight yard expecting u  to be there,              but instead
to be cold but instead I found an old maid;
fine older minds stored in electric cases on twin                         databases
sent to the billions of stars outside our network are
causing the ziplines to fail
sending them down in the                                                         stronghold  
family of
                                                                ­                              arcs & acres;
of Satanic beauties; eating through the city like
ed acid; grandparents buried under the sadistic                       headstone headphones
vineyards
bloom on a crispy California Saturnalia                           over & over
the original creatures;
she said, I agreed to say tis but Anne on my mind
like the fishbowl filled with rare fish or
                   golden bowl of organic fruit still life;
love is the still life
       caught like a butterfly &             burned to the ground somber as a death camp she weakly reached out to my timezone                     & cared; drama on the subway at midlight, that's when she & the      dressed as revolutionary madwomen close in on the soft silent scent of the underground waterway; time is my machine, u know I caught u that light shining at noon & twilight moonscape dreaming for me; her weight that of a naturally blinding
  headache; her soul empty as classrooms in the
                        evening of silent secondary ****** of the old women turned to witches
tangle with
an
tingler
wanna dance with me
she rips off my skirt
says honey let's
make it
three

Jo hnny
no
I
r

was that Johnny noir
have thier pages blink
they choose to assault me
what banner
of
stupidity is waves beyond ignorance


who got from me teach'er breath
that my swallow be gulps
that swell your throat
what is my back
that you
learn
to
crawl

in
the
crevice


perhaps mothers scented candles
have fallen in two
to
tangle with
?












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