Tim Barrus Blog
Posts tagged with poetry-by-tim-barrus
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shoplifting
you could take it into public on the night of a mission saving the world was like shoplifting with stuff shoved down our pants next to our balls they could search us but they knew we would blackmail them and blackmailing adults who wanted to touch us we dared them…
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gives one pause
he drives you crazy but your job is to be there for him not when he isn’t driving you miss sugar nut but when he is often, the world they know has rearranged the furniture he cannot understand that the room he is so dead set against is the same…
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When They Realize
when they realize that life is a fight for it/ all of life is a fight for all of it/ or whatever rush of it they can get a hold of and grab/ all you need are fists/ when they realize that i have survived most of what they continue…
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Having Lived With You
having lived with you/ for so many years, i kinda knew what it was you wanted/ what it was you liked/ in that orchestration of a silent language and other things tongues are for/ the darker planets of your delicious bed/ how sharply in it, your cistern just beyond those…
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You Wanted To Eat My Hole
you wanted to eat my hole turning tricks on the street in the rain usually meant someone sucking cock usually in the backseat of a car the one that drove twenty times around the block and it was too cold for your tongue in my shit hole so i told…
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Your Parents Were Asleep In The Downstairs Bedroom
your parents were asleep/ in the downstairs bedroom we were upstairs through lucidity and the night of thorns/ mayhem unconstrained the milkman stairs groaning but never taking sides/ your midnight cock like oceans deep in the tearing evidence of blood diffused by carnage/ your parents downstairs/ unafraid https://timbarrus.tumblr.com
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Someplace Else
all as frantic tongues by night less the depth of grief devours us like the past is just another dragon’s wrath and the parchment to write it on https://timbarrus.tumblr.com
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post-card nomadic
first-one features the camera will come on again dragging out revenge to some stupefied consensus i used to take you to all the shoots pizza for breakfast you were hungover from the night before you called me a post-card nomadic i have been called worse limited access studio shoots are…
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stop asking me
stop asking me if i like it/ stop asking me if it needs something, stupid boy, they all need something/ stop asking me about light/ what the fuck do i know about light/ light only is/ stop sacrificing my kingdoms of the dead with your hearts and flowers and sailboats…
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orphaned by the tide
in some place of sun/ the light spills dancing on your work/ the quick day is just an accent of bones and dust/ even the word work is more drainage than sweat but sweat, too/ i need room to think/ i need equivalent deserts of the sky in pain/ ripped…
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You Will Never Understand
you were managing a mammoth, high impact portfolio mister big shot couldn’t shoot his cum unless he paid me to beat him up
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your pain what pain your pain
he denied he was in pain i ignored the fuck out of him i did eat his ass out though his life was an animal of stealth but i could always smell his desire long before he arrived
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Wooden Porch Swing in the Distance
behind the house, and just beyond the little woods of oaks, there’s an ancient cemetery where the confederate dead are buried in their sackcloths/ six of us are buried in here, too/ civil war is just another vulture’s boots/ the cemetery itself is dead/ not unlike a darkened theatre, and…
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what appears to exist
i am a very dark person/ wilhelm nietzsche was my problematic love child/ reason is impotent/ every moment in life is subject to the subjective interpretation that dominates and prevails at any point along the timeline of history which is mud clinging to a wall not a linear hierarchy or…
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A Shifting of the Clouds
the woods behind the house extends a sustained but curious sense of authority as if their push against the sky was preordained which is not true/ but rather/ we are all creatures of evolution/ we were not always this/ but arrived walking out of oceans (heroically) long since disappeared/ more…
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POETRY: THE SECRETS OF THE GAUDY NIGHT
infinite beggarly in laying siege to the being gone you must not touch/ you must not touch/ touching is forbidden but plowing your face into some guys’ butt is an accommodation/ you, with the black eyes/ pugnacity and false teaching me to sing again/ i hated them and everything they…
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Another Night of Whores
the fuckbucket slinks around the block not unlike the tongues of midnight in ten thousand of them creep along the sidewalks, too if only i could steal myself free of some trick’s eating of my ass i would do it like a tyrant’s vein so blue in temperament all that’s…
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THE AIR AROUND HIM IS STRANGE
https://tim-barrus.format.com/about #ART #PhotographicArt #SmashStreet #poetry
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the waffle house poems
i knew he’d be in there he was he was wanted by the cops for shoplifting at fifteen, he had avoided all the traps the hoodie obfuscated his face from the cameras his tongue was not much given to a torrent of words maybe you might get one word grunts…