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Baby Oil and Cigarettes

Table of Contents

Joyful Noise

Bang Bang

Technologic Monster


Smiley Faces and Roses

Joyful Noise Joy is nothing like a floating black balloon, You float to a place rid of those mysterious black monsters underneath your bed, Black is the color of that grueling rough night, It is my thoughts spilling from the ink of my pen, It fills the page with words and ideas. The black hole of consumption obliterating my mind. Your mind caving in and the walls crumbling inward. Light at the end of the tunnel so far but so close; Like a dream that almost never comes true. Joy, the feeling you get when you’re surrounded by the ones you love. Joy, the opposite of that mysterious dark place. It’s that joyful noise erupting in my head and invading my mind. Fun Love Happiness Joy

“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.� - Buddha

Bang Bang That smoking gun revolving those blazing bullets. Bullets of love; It attacks you when you least expect it The bullet explodes through the flesh You instantly learn to love. It hits you so hard; it may even knock you off of your feet The feeling that not all are able to experience Love, the warm bliss of a beautiful morning

“A toothache, or a violent passion, is not necessarily diminished by our knowledge of its causes, its character, its importance or insignificance.� -T. S. Eliot

Technologic Monster Crazy sharp machines piercing your soul, One gasp and this thing consumes your body. Growing inside you like a deadly disease, Life starts to feel like a great burden, The obstacles become high profile bloodthirsty gladiators; Deception is root of their evil art of taking your soul. Children are the easiest targets, Being sucked into their confusing vortex, It was made to confuse and twist your mind, maybe even swindle your thoughts. Instead of facing the problems it all becomes easier when you turn to it; It may even take your mind off things when real life experiences begin to get a little a difficult, Their coming for you and when you look at your reflection you become it, A robot subduing to your master.

“The prosecution, political prostitution The more money you pay the further away solution Legal actors, Babylon's benefactors Masquerading as the agency for the clients Hypocritical giants, morally non-compliant Orally armed to do bodily harm Polluted, recruited and suited judicial charm And the defense isn't making any sense Faking the confidence of escaping the consequence That a defendant is depending on the system Totally void of judgment purposely made to twist em' Emotional victim blackmailed by the henchmen Framed by intentions, inventions whereby they lynch men Enter the false witness slandering the accused Planting the seed openly showing he's being used To discredit, edit, headed for the alleged Smearing the individual fearing the unsuspected� -Lauryn Hill

Gossip These crazy creatures always devising a plot Seeing something is one thing and believing it another Its time to discover what’s real and what not, Gossip folks ridiculing you constantly Your friends see it one way and you see it another Caught up in the superficial world, The walls have ears and they whisper your deepest thought, Laughs, ridicules, and lies revolving around each other Hallucinating things that are there and saying their not. Sometimes things are what they seem or not These things are true one way or another You feel empty within like you’re all alone The air so tight in your body your throats in a knot, Palms sweaty and the devastation you feel, turns to pain Your friends start to subdue to this devious plot Your loneliness makes you feel as if there is no one to talk to It makes you second guess the times you’ve gossiped about others Moving to the beat of your own drum finding your own spot Ignoring the preconceptions embedded in these ferocious hallways of high school That every person on the face of this earth has gone through They are the knots, tangles, and imperfections of being a teenager

Smiley Faces and Roses The expression like one of a baby with a new toy I look to the sun and see the dimples formed around it It’s speaking to me in words of a sunny day The fields speak they hear you tip toeing through a field of daisies The aroma filling your nostrils and it paints a land of happiness Your body melting into the sand The bliss of waking up to that heavenly feeling

“All things truly wicked start from innocence.� - Ernest Hemingway

Baby Oil and Cigarettes  
Baby Oil and Cigarettes  

Chapbook Poems