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I am Tricks

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S: I am Tricks

FC: I am Tricks

1: 2011 by the author of this book (Rachael Archondous). The book author retains sole copyright to his or her contributions to this book.

3: Expose yourself to some vivid imagery If you want to be a writer you have to see your thoughts in colour If you want to be successful you have to see everything as it is As it was I sit in a train and watch momentous events pass by with little to no personal affect I am not actually there anymore, am I? I mustn't react I am not there anymore

5: I do not relate to birds the way bugs relate to me So you are a bird And you keep trying to talk to me I establish a demarcation And you keep trying to talk to me I do not relate to birds, I said I do not approve of your edgy nature, I said Nor do I approve of the erratic fluttering of wings. I prefer kept composure You birds get stuck in my head and make a mess I cannot clean up I can't clean up a mess I cannot see I can't clean a mess I can't see Bugs I can see They crawl around my arms and I can pick them away The bugs, they take my skin with them I pick them away They take my blood And I pick them away The bugs make a mess But I can see it So I can clean it I do not relate to birds the way bugs relate to me

7: Paper bird No poetry in the way that your fragile frame moves Its midnight, and we shouldn't be out I am trying to keep you dry In a raging storm Paper Bird I can see the frailty in your eyes the exhaustion in your face The colour is drained from your cheeks The life from your smile, Thin frame listless And faint About to collapse No poetry in the way that you move As I wrap you as tight as I can and you stand there shivering You are a paper bird I'm trying to keep you dry In a raging storm

9: If you don't watch me now then how do you know I will soon be wavering? Bold assumptions of future function make it difficult to take the present seriously. The teachers were waiting for me to fall without noticing the process of my decline How slowly I leveled to the ground How slowly I set myself down And I am wavering against the dirt I packed so tightly around my legs Yes I have no plan of succession to the empire built for me I will not be under the same measure as I once was Standards have been modified since am nothing like I once was, since I am not as unique as I once was I have become a simple equation for a disastrous outcome Just like so many others who have lost The people have mourned me already But I will not grieve skins shed Because I do not feel anything anymore Because I do not feel anything anymore

11: How simply his face changed Minor details concaved and became focal amongst an array of imperfections And now we notice each one How simply your face changed, Boy Can you feel the ridges mapping your skin? The trails along your arms which shows us the way we never should go Though we try to venture there anyhow Most curious beings we are But we get scared and retreat Coward-ess to a world we know will swallow us whole Suburbs can be rationalized when its alternative is grave How simply the Boy dissolved amongst a tweaking city That's where we lose people We get lost in the city

13: I have yet to find a proper scribe Someone must explain to me Viva voce, I have gotten the little information I have Scribes do not come cheap here Nor does slander But we pay And call them insignificant isms of our era I profess nothing less as more So what shall I call significant? I profess nothing less as more More can just be virulent And we don't need more cancer Pigs in their sky rise cities have yet to conquer the wolf So he watches them sweat and waits out their nerves There is never an adequate memo to explain Someone must explain this But we have yet to find a proper scribe I do not have patience to pay for foolish fobs My humble reserve has dried up Trickery and deceit have been my faithful participants And we are losing indecently at a game we made up long ago When facial expressions were mindless sentiments for truths unbarred. The pigs have lost.

15: In the forest he had no echo In the forest he had no echo He is seen as a likely candidate to be unseen His friends, They listen for the echo So he remains unseen. Distant lies no one hears Distant cries to no one in particular Because no one hears Because no one hears He will die And he will die quietly in a forest with no echo

17: One day I pray I may see my situation as you see it. What do I say to someone as crazy as me? How do I talk to myself and agree to listen to such insanities? My adolescent impulses prove to be enabling. Scabs are insatiable under the chronic stress I offer myself I do nothing to change it. I mustn't complain Choose life; choose death; choose something. Limbo logic has not served me well. Inconclusive choices have left me covered in straight scars perfectly directed to depict my inner workings. I am not free. I have never been free. You say I should grow and I plea...I have. What if this is my last inch of growth. You are not okay with me I am not free. I do not have free will against my body. I am prisoner to my poor judgment. I am not free. I am held captive away from my god. And I have stopped trying.

19: You are ill and soon you will be dead I have taught you well enough to grow I have taught you an acceptable purpose for your hands and still You are ill and soon you will be dead Your peers are pampering themselves with knowledge based on the divine and conquering world While you ignore the festering below your pallid skin You are muscle and organs and bones and blood But you are not a person You are ill and soon you will be dead Your foot taps to the inconceivable beat that dictates and overpowers moral measure And I can't stop it anymore My efforts are redundant and have given me little resolve Soon you will be dead and I will become ill And soon I will be dead too

21: I am nothing new I am repetitive I am nothing exceptional I am nothing new I am repetitive

23: I can no longer recall major portions of my day Amnesiac reluctant to a normal schedule I have focus I have intelligence enough to decipher my dreams Cities I have been and never returned My mind holds me hostage and I can no longer recall major portions of my day And I come to the conclusion that I am not real

25: The emperor wears no clothes And his skin is orange Hierarchy politics never make sense Modern dress robes say less than orange skin And the sprawling nation agrees with the antics meant for centuries ago The sprawling nation lays down and accepts the crumbling empire Because laying down is far easier than fighting Those with academic proficiency are told ‘We don't need your kind’ No new logic No new ideals And things stay the same How small is this empire? What about the people caught in the bosh? Damage is done but we won't know until the emperor says so

27: I am not wrong These people they pass by and score out a conversation before it even starts And there is really nothing to say anymore We can talk about people who talk about people And listen for the undertow Listen for the juice Listen for the details worth spreading Hey, I know how this ends! We will learn something new, yes And someone will get hurt And maybe someone will get hurt terribly We will blame human curiosity Rather than the human I am not wrong These people pass by and I recognize how they move And assumption before I even know their motives But yes, I do know how this will go And someone will get hurt.

29: Sleep has left me weak and unable to fight back. The simple way I dismiss my ability to defend in wake Seeps through to panic in slumber And we speak of how people dream to work out problems too difficult in consciousness And I am told how lovely some dreams can be Some people They imagine flying

31: Now pick up your mat and walk.

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  • By: Rachael A.
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  • Title: I am Tricks
  • Poetry and photography
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  • Published: almost 5 years ago

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