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JC Lucas Nov 2013
My knuckles will bear a scar
From where they collided with your teeth
Until the skin heals completely.
I will bear a scar within
Until I learn to forgive
You
And myself
And everyone
For being what we are
Which is sometimes
Terrible, terrible
People.

But all this anger
These fifteen-pound chains I carry as weapons of self defense
Are not hurting
Anyone
Who is trying to hurt me.
They are doing
nothing
But weighing me down
And I'm sick and tired
Of trudging the streets of this city of headstones
With them in tow.

They are doing nothing for me.
And I will drop them
Just so soon
As I get over
Myself.
JC Lucas Nov 2013
Thou.
I can't think of a more romantic word.
and who was the genius who first said "thou"?
who distinctified another human being from all the other
"it's"
and realized that whoever that was, that first
"thou"
saw the world just as he did?
and perceived him just as he perceived them?
brilliant *******.

He,
Whoever he was,
was the first man to grasp true
empathy.
To identify with another human not as an object,
or an animal,
"but as another of himself"
an extension of himself.
himself.
itself.
thyself.

It is one of the oldest existing words,
and has not undergone any major change in tenthousand years.
Perhaps this is evidence that we were,
in fact,
built
in pairs.

Which raises the question of who the first "thou"
was
and his relationship to whomever first said it.
I like to think they were lying across from one another,
he and his partner
or she and hers
and it occurred to one of them that the person opposite them
saw
them too.

Thou art.
as I am.

Next must have come "we"
or some variation thereof.
Thou,
I,
thou and I.
We.
Us.

What was the brilliant sonofabitch who first uttered "us"?

I wonder if he died alone.
JC Lucas Nov 2013
Sit broken
Sulkin'
Softly weepin' wisps which then
Withdraw themselves from all of this
Fickle
And fiendish
You'd have my arms and legs bound tight
You're sulkin'
Broken
Without remorse, without respite
I'm nervous,
Workless
And functionless in all your eyes
You're girlish
And cutesy
You give them eyes to get replies
I've never-
You've never?
You finish thoughts and work your little fingers down my
Spine

-chorus-
Uproot the weeds inside you
Fine
I'm through with being fruitless and
Surprised
By old attempts to change our ways
Besides
We're newly polished anyways
We're newly painted, off the line

The bitter
And nameless
Are working after hours to reface this
And shame it
It sits and spins and multiplies
With frequence
I feel it
I feed a framework filament fire
And hapless
You're hopeless
I'm hoping on another line-
To find out what's been sanctified
Who sacrificed to tranquilize
And backfired by bullshittin'
So now I'm sleepy saunterin'
To see what life's like on the other side

(Chorus)

-breakdown-
If we cared
We could whisper cloudy whiteness where there
Used to be only filth and flies
I'm sick of sentimentalism
Sick of sinking in
I'm feeling fine.

-chorus-
Uproot the weeds inside you
Fine
I'm through with being fruitless and
Surprised
By old attempts to change our ways
Besides-
We're newly puffed up anyways
I've walked the line from Z to A
We're freshly painted hypocrites
At least this time I won't be so surprised.

-fin-
This is actually a song. Sung, not spoken.
JC Lucas Nov 2013
Imagine meeting
Someone
Who has never met anyone
Before
Who has never seen the stars
Or had a conversation
Or walked through the park on a day like today
Who has never listened to music
Or eaten pumpkin pie
(Or anything for that matter)
Or loved
Or painted
Or played
Or laughed
Or sighed and said that it's getting late.
Who has never prayed
Or written
Or read.
With no tattoos
Or scars
(Inside or out)
Who is healthy
And surrounded by people committed to their
Well-being.
Someone without clothes
(Or any possessions)
Without a moat and a drawbridge.
An open book full of blank, white paper.
Imagine meeting
Someone
New.
JC Lucas Oct 2013
Forty seven nights
Spent sleepless
Or wasted, shitfaceded
Stumbling I'm aimless

And fear
Stabs at my mind
Porcupine hides
And bee stings
Wasted passionate ambition
An ad for lost tenacity

Cruel fate
Just world
Full court
Swine and pearls

Six months
Of restless days
Assurance didn't ever run
It sat and washed away

And my hopes burn
like turpentine
In a fire-breather's lungs
Singed ****** hair
And scorch marks
On the surface of my tongue

Forty seven nights
And just as many days
Youth never tried to run
Just sat and washed away

Youthful love,
stupid love
Happy gluttony
Waste of time,
In my mind
Says hateful heartless me
JC Lucas Oct 2013
I live in a city of salty people.
We are all
at times
mean
crass
goatish
people. Like grains of salt
in a salty sea-
-or a salty lake.
but, we are not ever
boring.
we may be salty
but we are doubtlessly very flavorful.
we have more personality
and *****
and character
per square inch
than most of the cities in the world.
most all the cities I have been to, anyway.

anyway.

I am a salty *******
at times
and I have discovered that I
need
a grain of salt in my life.
cold mornings.
a shot of whiskey.
Something to push back
against.
For fighting fake conflict is just
flailing.
I’m trying to tread this
salty
water and keep oxygen in my lungs
just like all the other mouth-breathing saps in this salty pond
pushing each other down to get a breath of fresh ozone and carbon monoxide
and I guess that means I’m fighting
for something.
JC Lucas Oct 2013
To walk until this gradual curve gives out-
Or to walk until the point where "up"
is sideways

and jump.

I'd fall for countless hours
pass all the stars and waywards
who, like myself
couldn't walk a straight line in broad daylight
I'm too sober
and too addicted to vice
I'm a pincushion of anxious
and when the tension releases,
explosions shake my achy feeble frame
or just plain mistakes get made
I feel like I can't handle life
I feel like I can't cope
with even the slightest feather's poke
I feel useless
a self-destructive nuisance
who speaks grandiose
and uses words like verbose
but couldn't tie my own shoes
-note that these don't have laces-
or might miss a bus cause
"**** look at those clouds"
or
"man, bees are super weird"
and meanwhile I'm crashing through china shop two.
I'm a bull without horns,
ever bitter, never scorned.

so I'll walk in silly circles
until this curve gives out.
I'll walk until I'm back where I started
and change course
I'll walk until my own head makes sense
I'll walk until I feel like I have enough room in my body
to contain me.
I'll walk until my legs give in
and my shoulders slump forward
from exhaustion or boredom
I'll walk until I figure out there is no
"up"

and jump.
I wrote this while backpacking Europe. I have still not stopped walking.
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