Maggie Emmett
Maggie Emmett
Aug 6, 2014      Aug 8, 2014

You breathed your last breath from the air
in this room;
that threadbare Persian carpet
holds flakes from your skin;
hairs from your head
corkscrew the dented cushions
scattered and idly waiting on the sofa;
bed linen scented with your sweat
the goose down doona that stole
your last warmth;
sleep spit and tears
human moisture that permeates
the acrylic layers of your pillow;
an eyebrow hair wedged in the tweezers;
a clipped nail that flew off
somewhere out of sight;
that new toothbrush used only once;
your flannel and towel still drying out;
the wet press footprint on the bathroom mat;
the talcum powdered slippers
abandoned under the brass bed.
Each moment of everyday
we shed ourselves
shed dead cells and renew -
a cycle of shedding
until the last
shedding of ourselves.

               © M.L. Emmett

Forensic Science programs seemed to be everywhere and I minutely explore my grief in an unusual way
Jul 18, 2013

Maybe I’ll never make a good father,
the world has shown me it’s ugly face.
I see things too logically,
too realistically.
The things I’ve done and seen,
my dark sense of humour,
twisted sources of entertainment
and sexuality.
My sedated emotions
and even my choice of forensics profession
all these things probably makes me
a pretty bad father,
bad husband,
bad boyfriend…
And probably
a bad person.


James Wisp
Aug 11, 2011

A retroactive reconstruction of
whats forgotten forms what’s real.
We rob and steal
past transgressions,
but what happens
when the  mechanisms making memories
twist elegantly toward
the ego?

Jodie LindaMae
Jodie LindaMae
Sep 26, 2014

The candles on my birthday cake
Are a body count.

Ursa: Aren't you going to create anymore?
Tesla: What's the point? They'll steal it from me, and then use it to destroy me, I won't survive...

Ursa: You've brought light to the world! They'll surely remember you!!
Tesla: No they won't. And it will be someone else that takes the credit...

Oct 18      Oct 20

Love is patient,
And it's kind,
But i don’t believe in any of it because I
know that your love will never truly
Be mine.

I’ve heard that
Love is blind,
But no one ever talks about the hot, white aching.
The pain that comes with these feelings.
No one talks about how one-sided love crushes your heart,
Your soul.

All these feelings are Greek to me.

I would never know how it really feels,
to be swept off your feet,
And looked at like you’re the most beautiful thing
To ever be contrived.
And cherished like I’m their only lifeline.
And protected like a damsel in distress.
All I feel is pain,
Right here in my Chest.

#love   #sad   #depression   #life   #heart   #pain   #sadness   #death   #hurt   #thoughts  
forensic scientists
K Balachandran
K Balachandran
Dec 10, 2011

your nail marks,
forensic scientists
would remark
as fatal attacks!

Oct 12, 2013

a forensics-related investigation
of some sort
would probably prove very little
in terms of what it is like to be me-

aside, perhaps,
that it is something like
playing table tennis
with a frisbee.

a foot-state forensic statue of in-
Nov 24, 2013

the slam poets demise before
a foot-state forensic statue of in-
vest-in-grey-tongues cutes me in
to 5 different  animal high-rises

(like he meant it)

Feb 17, 2014

Five feet left from yesterday,
I think that's where Beauty died.
She didn't die from lack of anything
forensics says there was just
too many hands around her neck.

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