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Connor Lannes (Remove filter)

Jellicle Identity

Jellicle
Jellicle
Jellicle Cats with their three names


The Common
The Unqiue
The Label


The I in which no one but "I" would know. A self inscribed name tag collar wrapped 'round in my keyboard cutthroat self inflicted mental recognition.

 

Maybe
The Gay One?
The Stupid One?
Fatass?
Selfish.

 

Pollicle
Pollicle
Pollicle Dogs, with their bark BARK BARKING up and down t...

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Connor LannesIdentitythought

How Can I Keep From Singing


Spiritual Hymns

Are the essence of a highschool choir
That sings often the sounds of Queen in the style of acapella
But also the rolling notes of Ezekiel Saw the Wheel
And the thumping heart of Elijah Rock.

 

How Can I Keep From Singing
When piano pushed
And the opening notes gently pulled in, to meet a booming brillance
My life goes on in endless song
And I recall the disconnect...

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MusicNostalgiaArtSingingConnor LannesNostalgichigh school

Poetry is a Mediocre Diary


There is no good way to really start a poem
and by far
This is the third time I've tried to find a line to begin this
Which will never be the line that could best cooperate with myself
to get what I want. 

 

So I could start my push
into talking about several things
Like how literary poetry is so different in nature to slam poetry, and why I think
both are good
But one is fine art,...

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AbuseConnor LannesconsiderationDiarydomestic abuseThoughts

Beyond the Plastic Pole.


The landlord called this morning

Said that she could tell I just woke up. To call her back later.

 

The cold was different to me, this late morning
Hazy, paired with rain
Drizzled, Murky, Heavy air that swept through the knit of my hoodie.

 

The branches lay next to the garage in a consecutively non-organized fashion, taken back by hand a few times


 To the old burning pile ...

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ChildhoodConnor LannesForestMemoriesNostalgiaRainWoods

The Somewhere: Bricks and Cement

Fuck.
Shit.
God Damnit.
Why can't you just look and see me?
Well.


I know you can. 
Kinda Sorta. 
You just don't stop.
You don't consider looking at cracks.


The old school walls are a burgundy color that no one finds interesting.


Maybe once in awhile.
For a brief second.
Someone.

She was new in school, I think. 
Never saw her before until sophmore year.
Pretty outgoing....

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The SomewhereConnor LannesDepressionHighschoolSuicideSadness

Invisible Shark Syndrome

When you look at the water
From the specific position of the diving board.
It stays still with the silence of god himself, unmoving despite the world continuing.

 

It was noon, and the lifeguard made a joke.
"Be careful, there's a shark in the water!"

 

I could see all the way down past the  top of the water to the mid-blue circle spiral encompassing the 'deep bowl' of the pool.
I ...

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SharksAnxietyFearChildhoodConnor Lannes

And

It's a concentration of atoms, that in the air converse with one another.


And then those bits become molecules. 
They create my table.
My computer.
And in some ways, my ability to type and write and eat ramen at the last hour of the night.

 

And they make


That smokey woody herbal floating aroma that reminds me of the witchcraft shop down the street of where we used to live.


...

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AndConnor LannesMemoriesRelationships

A Hunger


Cracker Barrel shouldn't make you cry. 
That is a sentence that no one should have to explain.
Facebook, should occasionally make you cry.
That's a sentence that I think most people don't have to explain.

 

Sad children in a country that I probably couldn't find if I researched every piece of paper with any writing on it in my house.


Which is a lot.


Just for reference.

 

...

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Connor LannesHungerFacebookCryingBurden

A Triadic Structure of Depression

My poetry's hollow and null
And like my life it is quite dull
So I ramble and cry
And I wish to just die
While I ponder why I've not been culled.

 

And yes even so
I continue to write words
With no direct form

 

Rhyme scheme, structure, they mean very little
To a person who has no control of their life
And apathetically watches as he carries on strife.
And in a rotted hole, th...

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Connor LannesDepressionAnxietyStructurePoetry

I Have A Fetish For Escapism

Puppy Hoods

Make me think that the world runs smoother

When all focus

Is on leather and sweat and stink.

Glorious odor that makes the mobius strip slow.

 


And Ouroborus is Self Fellatio.

 

My leading member drags me through pigeoned glory holed thoughts.

And I lose

The consideration of purpose

and other abstracts

such as longevity and sustainability in flesh a...

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Connor LannesEroticFetishSexEscapismInternalHomosexualhomosexuality

Ponytail Kid

I'm pretty sure that everyone

Knew the ponytail kid.

Had a ponytail kid.

 

Is what I mean.

 

The guy that was just...scratchy, and rough, and he needed to shave more. You know that guy?

 

Yeah.

 

You kind of have to wonder when you meet the ponytail kid, why he's like that.
With a grey hoodie that's kind of too big, and it has spraypaint haphazardly covering it.

O...

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Connor LannesMemoriesSelf Image

Wisdom Teeth

 

Get out of mouth now.

This is not yours.

You keep prodding at my gums, don't you get it?

 

They're sensitive.

I don't floss. 

 

I can see you past the surgical mask, behind the goggles that you keep foggy with a steam of egotistical pomposity. 

You're framed by a white room, white clothes, white breaths, because everything inside of that is dirty.

 

A living cavi...

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Connor LannesCorruptionDentalNovocaineTeeth

Ringling Brothers

Surround me.


An Idola, who deserves the persecution that comes with 
the eyes of a hungry audience.

 

The Lion greedily roars, depraved in hunger and gifted with I, the sacrafice.
Big Top mentality, the bigger the crowd the thirstier for bile, that drips into the cotton candy machine.

 

I have crossed my eyes with x's, until I could be accused of a clown's facade.


I've 


...

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CircusConnor LannesSuicide

Daisy Chains


Pick the petal, then you eat it.


Fields of daisies.


It's a sort of unegotistical monopoly that I crave

.
I think.


Playground fortune telling is a mysterious art that rides on the idealistic concept of opposite chance.
Loves Me.
Loves Me Not.

Where I stand now.


Where yellow spiraled arms that reach for love, surround me.
I come to the bubbling surface, that the reach...

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Connor LannesFlowersLove

Breastfeeder

S E L F I M P R O V E M E N T

thirstforwater

I

     Can't

                Find it

 

Like lost keys

That the rest of your friends

 

 

Keep

 

 

 

 

f i n d i n g 

 

I thought he was

Like                             Me.

 

Sucking on sympathy tits

Milking

Drinking

Feeding on help

And Then

He was m o t h e r.

 

I'm not

...

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Connor Lannes

The Somewhere: Lucifer

The slip from

Unopened gates of a world I had lived

Was not particularly the hardest

 

More so was the descent, where I found time

Seconds counted in decades

To swallow the misgivings

Bloomed as my fallen feathers

And the certainty

Of this

My decision.

 

My skirt grasps the falling winds of January.

It pulls me into the next

My new home

Where flesh burn...

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Connor LannesThe Somewhere

Paper Planet Spinner Kid

Common sense would dictate

That when a website uses the concept of pounds...

...I think they're pounds? Maybe?

Well, that should indicate the base of operations; Britan.

...United Kingdom...?

Maybe just.....generally European?

Sorry

My knowledge of globes, that explain the world in quilted patches is small. I only recall that lines we're drawn with sticks at some point and dec...

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Connor LannesGovernmentPoliticsThoughts

Give Me An Original Metaphor

Explanations of what I mean

When I ask for the new

The New

THE New

The NEW

Tend to...fall flat.

I understand there's only so many 

Dictionaries ripped together

Dictions I can scavage through

Concepts that equate your thoughts.

But even then I still find

Melted hearts and emotional roller coasters

Haphazardly tossed into lines that should add up to better use.

...

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Connor LannesPoetryWriting

The Island of Misfit Boys

How is it

that even someone
that clings to broken toys
with a mix of
nostalgia and remorse
that cradles a chinadoll
whose chipped fingers slip through flesh
to the infantile heart at the center of
neurons
Could still
be held in the cradle of arms
owned by someone whose own skin
wields their own patterns of 'horse play'
And brazenly still
Refuses to let go
Of such an uncoordinated ...

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Connor LannesToysAbuseSupport

Puberty & Desperation

Ew.

For the love of God

Just...

Change your sheets.

Take a shower,

You stink.

Your body is exuding more fumes than a nuclear plant.

And by God.

While we're on this trail of reconstructive surgery.

Toss out that shit personality.

Trashy anime and cartoons, no counting for taste.

Kid, if you put a rainbow filter over that drawing, I swear to God...

No wonder every...

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Connor Lannesinternetpubertydepressionpicturesmemories

Simon Bette's Cry of the Lost Lamb

On thy knees

Prays the lost lamb, reborn anew.

A young man of God with white 'round his collar.

Often he looks to the father

I look to the father

And I pray for more fun.

A son of God must have more to do, anything more interesting

The population of this city churns

Wishing that they could be more than what they are now

The lambs cry as I once did

I must not recall

...

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Connor Lannesgodinternetlambreligonselfharm

Selfie Culture is Just Culture You Stupid Fucking Baby Boomer.

Indulgence

                       Of

                                   Ego

Finds itself

Intherathercramped

Position of outward facades, and inward necessities​​​​​

Construction having 

S

T

E

M

M

E

D

from self portraits

                            and

meeting at selfies

​​Humble is ideal​​​​

Self Pride is ideal

They both need be

B a l a n...

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beautyConnor Lannesegointernetloveself congratulationselfie

What To Do After You've Participated In A Threesome

The feeling of

having just finished

a threeway

is

non-mapped islands

You are now in a bed

with two naked

bodies

that don't immediately fade 

And no one

explains the common courtesy

of getting some food

After performing what's known as an

Eiffel Tower.

We throw ourselves

out to sea

With minimal knowledge

of the breeding grounds of tropical fish

...

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Connor Lannesethicsidolsloverelationshipssexthreeway

Housewives, Magic Circles, and Poetic Gimmicks.

Quirky, by all means

is such

a fucking awful word

that was most likely 

made by

Housewife Culture.

Something to describe those that fell outside

of the 

circle of Baseball Caps and Poodle Skirts

while still finding themselves

safe in their presence.

But now

It has been adopted

by underage

underdeveloped

parents.

Parents who use it to describe

thin...

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QuirkyMeMyselfKidBadBad poetryConnor Lannes

Watching a Group of Angry College Kids is Weirdly Entertaining

Downtown

east of

High street

where cars run rare

and exude mating calls

through means 

of 

rap.

Across from

the

funeral home

with running rust

that is

synonymous to melting

is an

art school

who prides a sign

that

arches over 9th street

that reads

A R T

and in essence

is bodied

of what could be known as design

or

in other wo...

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CollegeLifeProtestConnor Lannesstream of consciousness

Experimental Proposition Following Observation of Apathy

Schrodinger's cat

is both

in theory

Alive and Deceased

Poison has filled the bunker

but from the outside

survival

or

failure

is inconclusive

until futher analysis

confirms

In a similar

state

is Schrodinger's Student

who is both

here and absent

awake and asleep

consious and in coma

Fallen loved ones join Illness

and

in a dorm room

su...

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collegestudentdepressionapathyschrodingers catConnor Lannes

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