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 717° 
ogdiddynash
God made jeans for nice jewish boys


as I walk down the street
I invoke and bless his name,
my eyes criss-crossed,
he, my fellow descendant from
Adam & Abraham

Levi Strauss
who had a
prophetic vision
(of course)
why stretchable tight jeans
were even better
than apples
and started
a gold rush
that will never
end
 307° 
Angel Turner
I couldn't care less about
"Inspirational Quotes"
I don't need to be told that
the present is a gift
or what the best thing about
rock bottom is
or that only I can stop forest fires.

If I was to write one myself,
it would have less to do with
landing in the stars,
and more to do with
how much better you could see them
if you had the eyes of an octopus.

See,
Octopi have such phenomenal eyes.
The spectrum of color they see
makes our own look like
the crappy box of crayons
you get at a kids restaurant.
Whereas an octopuses,
would be the beautiful,
64 Crayola pack
I always wanted as a kid.

If I ever went blind,
I think I'd get octopus eye replacements.
And yeah,
I'd probably look weird because
they'd be too big for my head
but can you imagine how
strange and incredible
it would be?
And it wouldn't matter how I look because
how I see things
is more important to me
than how I'm seen.

If there was even the
slightest chance,
of seeing though the
eyes of an octopus,
that's reason enough to be alive.

And if I could take your life
or your perspective,
and change it even a bit,
that's reason enough too.

So look through the
eyes of an octopus.

Can you imagine the stars?
This is one of my very favorite poems that I've ever written.
Can you imagine the stars?
xxx
 302° 
Srijani Sarkar
I think
as artists
we owe a lot to pain.

Put on
a robe of thorns
and write

about the nice weather outside
and that delicious burger
you had today.

Write about happiness
when you're in pain-
beauty.
 279° 
Sofia Villagrana
I believe
I believe
I believe in you
If I say it enough I’ll know it’s true
Like the sight of the morning hue
Or the sounds of people in the afternoon
Something you know it’s always there without further proof

But then you started talking
Your tongue told me lies in my mouth, I believed everything it was saying
I cried by your words creating rivers that you denied fueling the flooding
Your smile left a nasty cut so sharp that I could feel your lies bleeding
Believed you’re beside me, feeling you in the dark, hoing you won’t be moving

I believe
I believe
I believe in you
You say to me but I know it’s not true



© Sofia Villagrana 2018
 230° 
Shyboy
This is a work of fiction. I am NOT considering any of this so don't be worried.


If this has anything to do with you please call 1-800-273-8255
You can read it now.



Let's imagine that I ended it all.
just tied the knot, or opened that bottle,
or slid that blade, or took that jump.
Would you even care?

Are you just going to get mad at me for offing myself?
Say thing like"He deserves it." or"He wanted attention."
Well that attention won't do anything for me now, will it?

I mean it tried. I really did.
but I guess I didn't try hard enough.
This is a work of fiction. I am NOT considering any of this so don't be worried.
If this has anything to do with you please call 1-800-273-8255
 229° 
Angie S
i tried to sleep.
i gripped those dreams that keep
slipping through my trembling fingers
and wondered if i should ever
hold them tenderly and securely
with tumultuous oceans brewing in my eyes
i again begged them,
stay a little longer please
and if not then allow me to
cleave my fingers from my hands so
i don't have to worry about holding anything anymore
i really tried to sleep
but i don't know how to anymore
i can't even practice anymore without insomnia hitting me again.
 220° 
Laura Amstutz
han lader mig sove inderst og giver

mig den bedste pude at sove på

hvis altså det er den jeg gerne vil have

han har små fine bumser på ryggen

og hvide hår på armene

han lærer flere sprog på en gang

han siger jeg ser sexet ud med briller

han siger jeg ser smuk ud i ingenting

han brækker sig højlydt

han græder i stilhed

små krampagtige bevægelser og så

saltvand

han elsker den samme sang som jeg

han brokker sig også

små bagateller, dem man kan grine af

han lugter af solskin

har slangeskind bag ørerne

han smager tit af kaffe, hans

læber er våde

stemmen er følsom, stædig hvis den

gerne vil
 219° 
Jasleen kalra
And if you are to love,
Love as the moon loves.
It doesn't steal the night,
It only unveils the beauty of the dark.

And if you are to love,
Love as the rain loves.
It doesn't wet the bodies,
It only washes the sad dirt of the souls.

And it you are to love,
Love as the wind loves.
It doesn't drift away,
It only cleanse you to the core by invading through each pore.

And if you are to love,
Love as the sun loves.
It doesn't radiates heat,
It only pours its warmth on you to enlighten your way.

And if you are to love,
Love as the star loves.
It doesn't delightfully twinkles,
It only reminds you that not even death can separate two hearts.

And so forth,
if you are to love
Love as the whole universe
& not just a part of it.
 210° 
Arya Sharan
Yellow & Green
A summer so serene
I wake up to the chirping birds
Go out to the vivid light
Beaming onto every life
A Begonia standing firm
Beneath the amber horizon
Waiting to ambush the hopelessness of the world
A lazy breeze whispering along
The blooming hedges will do just fine
Sun & shade in the forest glade
Reap & sow a light so profound
Hopping birds bring life to the hidden grounds
Scribbling an aubade, we look all around
Behold & rise to the beauty unspoken
Summer is here, all burning & all mine.
 200° 
Poetoftheway
so someone remarks and thus a poem commissioned...

a better world, a wish no one can turn a back to...
a literacy of mine own, a bridge too far...
but such a lie too glorious to ignore...
blessed be the wisher for he gave this day
water and wine to a lapsed Jew who reincarnates
the containership of body and soul from the Star of David,
burr etched upon his chest, and embraces lost tourists
who unfated unfazed stumble
upon the guide dog of his verbal chicanery and funny bone,
smiling for as long as it takes to cross that last bridge,
nearer our god, you than me..
for Elea
 171° 
Jo Barber
Like I loved coffee,
that's how I loved you.
Like the first cigarette of the day.
Or like a Beatles song
blasted on the radio
during a road trip to
nowhere in particular.
Like Spring,
when the snow melts into water
and runs, rushes
past yellow-colored, polka-dotted rain boots
on a sunny day.
I loved you like I love you;
simply, completely,
without frills and without doubt.
I love you.
 167° 
Woody
If only I could
cleanse you of your sadness,
clear it like the dirt
from a grave diggers fingernails
after a day spent singing
to the bones laid still.

Steal from you this sorrow,
rob it like the gold coins
rattling in the old chests;
spill it in the streets
and watch poor men rejoice.

I could be the thief of untold
heartache, and the water
needed to wash it clean.

I could be the bones that sing
back from the dirt unsettled,
the light shining from the cleansed
side of the gold buried deep
inside the heart of your earth.
 141° 
Stella
All emotion can be shut off.
I should know,
I’ve done it for years.
Me doing this has kept me sane.
I shut off my feelings of sadness,
So I won’t regret.
I shut off my feelings of anger
So I don't hurt anybody.
I shut off my feelings of self-loathing
So I can preserve my mind.
I shut off my feelings of guilt,
So I won’t feel obligated to do anything
I shut off my feelings of grief,
So I can focus on what's important
Instead of living in the past.
To me,
Emotions are useless,
And hinder one's ability.
But the humans worst mistake
Is apathy.
Apathy to the terrors that everyone ignores,
Apathy to the beating others endure
Apathy to the horrors others put them through
There needs to be a balance,
A balance between the emotional
And the Apathetic
I wonder if I am that bridge,
I wonder if that is even possible.
All I know,
Is that emotion clouds one's judgement,
And Apathy lets the horrors of the world
Continue.
I tried. I was just thinking one day about what is worse than greed? This cane to me. I hope you like it. Thanks ou for reading.
 138° 
Semihten5
I flew a pigeon.
It is in your tree now.
Stay connected forever.
This love never ends.

My love is wing.
 124° 
alexa
promise to make pain look beautiful,
i will make you wish for thorns instead of roses
just so you can feel my ebony words,
just so you can choke on the bitter truth
for a while.
i prnoise to paint love as the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen,
i will make you give everything
to have a world of your very own.
i promise to hold a permanent spot in your mind,
trail through thoughts like music notes,
feelings so overwhelming you can’t breathe.
i promise to have you scribbling lines on any surface you can get your hands on,
post-its and notebook pages and tree bark and your ex-lover’s lips.
i will make you taste my words, cloyingly
sweet with an acrid aftertaste once you realize
”oh, he’s not actually hers.”
i promise
to make you feel something.
We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.
Please don't ever become a stranger,
whose laugh I can recognize anywhere.
 105° 
Grand Piano
Step 1: Get out of bed
Step 2: Look in the mirror
Step 3: Practice your smile
Step 4: Eyedrops to hide the red eyes
Step 5: Conceal the dark circles
Step 6: Breathe
The curtains are almost up
Step 7: Lock down the pain
Step 8: Ignore the weight on your chest
Step 9: Silence the screams inside of your mind
Step 10: Choke down the sobs in your throat
Step 11: Ignore the stinging in your eyes
Step 12: Swallow past the tightness in your throat
You’ve put on this show a million times
Step 13: Don’t let them see
Times up. Curtains up. Camera rolling
You know how when you’re not ok but you try so hard to pretend you’re ok that it becomes a ritual
 101° 
Isabella Terry
We’re dancing on the edge
Between friends and more than friends.

Don’t come any closer,
My mask is on tight.
I know who you are,
But we’re strangers tonight.

No I don’t love you,
I couldn’t if I tried.
And I would never dare,
With the way you almost died.

Blood on the ground,
But we’re feeling fine.
When you take my hands,
We slow dance on the line.

We’re dancing on the edge
Between friends and more than friends.

Don’t say anything,
Some things are best unsaid.
Like what we really are,
If we’re really more than friends.

No I don’t love you,
I couldn’t if I tried.
And I would never dare,
With the way I almost died.

Time is running out,
But we’ll make it out, perchance.
The night is almost over,
But let’s stay for one more dance.

We’re dancing on the edge
Between friends and more than friends.
Our balance is maintained,
At this tightrope masquerade.
 98° 
Betuel
5 years down the drain
I love you but brought nothing but pain
I would tell you i loved you more than you loved me
How could you believe,we couldn’t even agree
I showed it sometimes but not enough
My actions wouldn’t match my words so you’d call the bluff
I always knew you loved me more
So i never thought itd be you to walk out the door
Don’t get me wrong i wouldn’t have done it
But now i know i took you for granted
After all this i don’t know how to just be your friend
Im still having trouble believing that we’ll ever be JUST FRIENDS
 83° 
Bryan
You are enough...
This I promise you...
all your flaws, all your weaknesses...
Come love, come pain...
You are enough...
It's so hard because I still want parts of you.

The parts that I know, no longer belong to me.

It's selfish because I don't deserve any of you.

But I long for your touch most nights.I miss feeling like I was always wanted, needed.

Waking up next to you and having our morning coffee together. Watching movies in your bed.

When I left you it felt like my whole world would crumble if I stuck around but now...

Now I can't seem to let you go.

A part of me is lost in you and I think it always will be.

And I would take it all back just to have those little moments, to have the little parts of You, all to myself again.

©Cmagee2018
 76° 
Kim Essary
HP
My heart is full of admiration as each day that has passed since my dedication to My Friend Across the Sea. For all the likes and loves and comments left for her healing eyes to see. My dearest Kim I know you will be touched when your eyes are able to read, your worth has shined through their words now you can see what you mean to them and me.  Thank you all for you haven't only been more than kind but you have inspired not only Our Dear friend Kim Johanna Baker but you have all been very kind to me.  Bless you All
Amazing when you think their isn't a kind person left on Earth , the truth changes every thought you have when you see all the kind words they left
 69° 
Amy Perry
Caress
The butterflies
In the
Terrarium
Of my heart.
Come see
How they
Dance for you.
How they
Flap a whisper
Of nimble limbs
And draw thoughts
Of you
For my soul to sing.
How I
Want to touch you
With my
Grazing fingers
And wings.
 68° 
abby
We are the ones who are hard to understand
We'll be the last ones in the movie theatre
because the ending scene made us cry
We'll stop to smell the roses
because they deserve to be appreciated
We are the ones who will take the time
to get to know what keeps you up at night
We are the ones who will imagine
an entire future of adventures
with the people who show us love

We are the ones who will love you more
than we love ourselves sometimes
We will give you our strongest parts
in hopes that we can make things better
We desire to see you become the best you
to make sure that you always feel our love
We crave affection and appreciation
We give a piece of ourselves away every day
sometimes to people who don't deserve it
Our love is easy to take advantage of
and sometimes we don't get back
the love that we give away

When we hurt, we crumble and fall apart
We constantly have to put ourselves back together
We are more fragile than we like to give off
We carry our emotions on our sleeves
Our flaws have the ability to consume us
We aren't afraid to give you the world
but we are afraid to feel unloved
We want you to see what we see
We want you to understand where we're coming from

We are good people with good intentions
We are stronger than we look like
Not everyone can feel the way we feel
We feel too much, too often
We are not hard to love
We are something not everyone knows how to love
But you need to remember that
your worth does not change just because
no one is there to appreciate you, to remind you

You are not any less lovable
You are the most lovable person in the world
You are a light that the world needs
Your kindness is not your weakness
You do not need to change for anyone's acceptance
You do not need to stop giving love
just because you don't get any back
Your heart is the best thing about you

And one day when you least expect it
someone will notice you from across the room
and know exactly how to love you
They will think all of these things are beautiful
They will deserve the love you can give
They will fill the empty space in your heart
But for now, don't stop feeling
We are the ones who feel everything so deeply
We are the ones who can't give up because
We are the ones who will teach the world
how to love
We are exactly who we are supposed to be
 65° 
Shobhit
What would I be without "the fear" of losing you
this fear is the fuel that keeps me alive.
this fear rejuvenates my love for you every morning.

The reason for this fear?
the incomprehensible doubt in my mind
"What did I do so great to deserve you?"
Is it that "you are with me at your will."
And someday like the wind changes
you will change your mind
and seek for a better and bright on your side
and then I am determined once again
"That day shall not come, not on my watch."
"I am gonna be your MAN for all of your seasons."
This is when "the fear" hits hard again
and I am ready to go all the distances
just to be with you in every lane...
 64° 
Liam Hunter
On stormy nights,
I only have to look at
your limitless eyes
To know that
the stars still exist.
 63° 
Parker Ray
but then again that seems too hard

i’ll reconsider
life is easier
within a definition
within constraints that weaken
what it means to be alive

but then again what does it mean to be alive

so full of life
so full that i
finally find that i can breathe

i need to breathe
to feel alive
 63° 
Laine
come with me
along this route
of clinging vines
and love's complicated
signs, with hot pink
roses and swelling
pines

rest with me
and hear the singing
birds, the tap-tap-tapping
of the woodpecker's
rhythmic words,
the rushing creek's
burbling sheets

wet love
coats the banks and feeds
the turtles, nourishes
the mind and takes us
back to an ancient time,
your heartbeats
finding mine

come with me
into a passage of reckoning
and i will place my heart
in your palm, complexities
gone when we sink
in the loam, this wild
softness our home.
 62° 
Madeline Thetard
wallflower
background to the noises
of the rest of the world
because maybe they seem
a little more important
than that which I need to sing

wallflower
I raise my voice
try to speak
but what words convey
what’s building up inside?
a dam of cries cracked in half
create the barriers
I try to break through
struggling to be free

wallflower
because I’m unpopular
because I’m weird
because I’m advanced
because I write poetry
because I’m socially awkward
because all of these things
mesh into a sweet-sour dough
that leaves their breath bitter
as they breathe down my neck

but I see the things
they don’t
I see their shifting sides
kaleidoscopes of confessions
and changes to be someone
they’re not
I see the heights they will reach
to be perfect
to be ethereal
I know why they cry out in
pain at night
when the stars become blinding
and they wish they could be
as pure as the
moonlight

wallflower
why do you stay
on the sidelines of this
ever-changing game?
so attention can be
diverted
to others who drink it up
like butterfly nectar

but maybe things are
ever-changing too
and the places we return to
as the galaxies paint pictographs
on our bedsheets
can be true in the daylight as well
wallflowers too
can see themselves dancing
stepping into the sunlight
just for a moment
maybe one day us wallflowers
will become noticed
and truly have a time to shine
maybe one day
but for now I stand in quiet seclusion
seeing into others before they see me

wishing ‘pon a star from the outside
 58° 
CA Smith
Brick
        By
            Brick
A house is built
Hour
        By
            Hour
The house becomes a home
Day
        By
            Day
The home turns into memories
Year
        By
            Year
The memories turn into people
Century
        By
            Century
The people turn into stories
Story
        By
            Story
Stories turn into legends
Legend
        After
            Legend
History is changed
Piece
        By
            Piece
Lives are changed
Person
        By
            Person
Love is spread
One Love
        After
            Another
Bricks are purchased
That build houses
That turn into homes
That create memories
That turn into people
That turn into stories
That turn into legends
That change history
And it all started with
Just. One. Brick.
Sometimes it's tough when you are just laying bricks to see the end picture, but it makes a difference in the end! It can be so easy at times to feel like we aren't doing enough to help others or to grow ourselves, but one ripple affects the entire pond.
SLOKA CREATIONIST

" An pure holy puribus goes ...
Devil and God ..., benign compass,
the stars watching their strength
feed and corrode the sky ...

Steam.., go  for  there ... going around here,
If the Puribus delicacy goes ...
Everyone be quiet !
unknown worship ...

Take hands,
and sing the fire the Devil
to spoil our God ...
sitting in the lotus supporting my hands "

Namaskar ... and God created the devil!
SLOKA CREATIONIST
 53° 
Busbar Dancer
I only ever wanted
to sleep
for a thousand years tonight -
To awaken bathed
in the cool, blue light of the future
with it's promised obsolescence.
I will embrace this since
the warm, yellow light of the past
has done nothing
but tell me lies.
Tell me lies.
 49° 
Cné

Through the withered branches
where the verdant leaves once grew,
I stared up at the old oak tree
against a sky of blue.

The branches stretched to heaven
as a supplicant might do.
It seemed to pray, as if to say,
"My time at last is through."

I wondered at the gnarly trunk
and limbs of twisted wood
And for a moment thought of life
and almost understood.

Life and death go hand in hand.  
Our time is our's to spend.
But like the tree against the gale,
‘tis better if we bend.

I'll pay it forward when I can.  
Thy brothers' keeper be.
I'll keep the roots well watered
and learn the lessons of the tree.

It shares the world with nestlings
and it's acorns oft abound,
To feed the hungry denizens
that glean them from the ground.

It's leaves give shade to those below.  
It's branches form a gym.
Children climb to see the world
and love this gift to them.

And as I watched, the farmer
came and laid the old husk low.
Firewood now, would be it's fate
and make the chimney glow.

Ashes unto ashes and to dust
we must return.
All of life in cycle goes
and from this I hope to learn:

This gift of life to all below,
all creatures great and small,
Is just a stop upon the trip
we travel, one and all.

Inspired by a photo shared by Melissa. Happy Earth Day!
 49° 
Aaron J Patrick
Pride says, "look at who you'll become!"
Greed says, "look at all that you'll get"
Lust says, "look at who you can use"

The temptations of this unholy trinity
seep in to seduce such a soul as this
stubbornly wanting to give in
when

Humility exhorts, "this is not about you"
Moderation teaches, "you do not need all this"
and Love preaches

"Give yourself away
Deny yourself
Crucify this flesh
Pick up your cross"

Love says
"Look at the lives you can save with your very own"

Love says
"What can I do for you?"
I almost got scammed. I feel like a fool for giving in.
 45° 
ilusm
'our love was a candle
that burned out a long time ago

but the wax just melts
and not disappear

so let's mold a new candle
from the remains that melted
and let it burn again and again
so we'll feel love
all over again
'
 45° 
Renee
I'm sure I look fine.

Days like today,
I want to strip the skin
From my forearms
Using only my fingernails.

Days like today,
I want to wring out
My legs like a washcloth,
Squeeze the rolls on my stomach
Until they're empty.

Days like this,
I want to walk away from my body
forever.

I'm sure I look fine.
 44° 
pitch black god8
5 Sensory Deprivation Relevations  (Happy Birthday Will Shakespeare)


I     the smell of sad

odor colorless like vodka, similar familiar sidewinder effects,
musty invasive, it has no specificity, no locale centrale, well closeted,
saddling saddlng, in place, plain sighted better to toy our lives,
pervades persists, worse lingers, impervious to sprays
and even everyone’s good literature (even Will’s)
good wishes good intentions and mood prayers
to the nearest lay god
on duty at the spiritual emergency room on weekends,
stink

don’t think that this poem is for you; solely for the writer,
your doppelgänger doofus, your mirror’s inside hiding out place,
I, who has your sadness smell into my skin cells crept
waft woof and warp wet weft-woven
into the sad receptacles hidden in my
head’s cubbies and the palms of my tree hands-covering face


there are cures so wonderful and inexpensive but unavailable
at the local Rite Aid, though they are the right aid recoverable,
so closer than close, so close that the internist
cannot prescribe them because he must inject himself first
because the live bacteria in the antidote can kill all

this odor lays down bamboo-strong roots;
to eradicate you must dig down deep,
six feet perhaps more, with heavy earth moving equipment,
uproot at the source, follow sad always all-the-way down and the root
great god gone,
but the saddest truth
stench odor yet present

II    the taste of joy

the joy of cooking is not a gene in my litany possess,
but the buttery taste of joy I know, I know,
it’s a real princess rarity,
the hard costs of finding and keeping it,
I’ve paid endlessly and willingly pay on

the taste of joy is like presents under the tree,
shock surprises delights lives/life, customized, infectious
(except for socks, no matter how joyously exceptional),
joy to those whose buds never blossomed for its taste
readable on some one else’s, anyone’s facial expression

I think of it as the taste of fast traveling cumulus whites
upon my eyelashes blinking as they are speeding you by, but happy
for ten more behind before the evening stars takes over

the taste of joy is physical, there can be no denying,
concentrations can be found in the lips and the fingertips,
which you think of as a tandem, someone else’s on mine

but it ain’t necessarily so; the taste of joy, shared I, having submitted to others kisses carried on the wind that
found their mark and were well received,
poems from the heart
that arrive well,
as their intended is sleeping, and
as intended, as waking gifts

the taste of joy in droplet tears
when you are notified that words
you joined in holy matrimony made you cry,
because the reader did, wept for two,
the weeping of contentment released,
free at last from container confinement;
this particular taste of joy is in the  
recovery and recognition that these
are not for you,
just joy peculiar these tasted tears for whomsoever sheds them

III   the hearing of truthful

truth am told is oft served cold and hard up for the hearing,
best avoided tween noon and midnight and any time a
bathroom mirror is in the vicinity; though religious men lie
too easily; bathroom mirrors cannot; a character flaw for sure,
but the truth to be trusted is this: no one is truly contented, always there are the richer, the more famous, the employed and
someone above who has more, more burdens of a different sort,
better quality losses and pains unseen not dreamed of

truth tastes terrible and is awful sometimes noisy painful;
it hides well in the stink of sad exposed to the atmosphere when exposed it turns red humans blue

truth may set you free, free to be what are you are or truthfully
an admission of what greatness you have to release the trick is
use the correct scale, do not let the wrong sized ruler rule you,
the truth, if you hear, hear it unfiltered w/o the bias implanted
by not your people; hear your poet voice growl like a blues singer and be truthfully satisfied like no thing no person only you could hear it as you intended it be spoken

IV   touches of fantasy fantastic
secret confess: touch my fav cause when its juiced with
mental visions of what might be, it Saturday satisfies and let me weep happy smile silly and is mine all mind; yes another’s tip
has sorcerer powers of revelation
but alone by myself I yet
relevate
and flow; my hands are right sized, my arms reach around myself for so designed, and the pleasure is mine to give;
mine to take,
neither better or worse if self-administered,
touch myself anywhere anytime and fantasy over dreams wins,
rise up, touch is a language and I speak six or a hundred;
listen to the sounds of touching and be touched human

V  insights for the sightless

at last we close the deprived
with an elegant elevation
sight overrated when imagination exists,
cannot be restrained
this the revelation
you have proffered and preferred all this time

have pity on me
I crystallize the unseen with the replacements
of my conjuring
the other senses lend a hand
telling me look up look up, be life save life
let your madness blossom in the spring airs,
the coolness of a first fingered ungloved snow
sight,
a mathematical function from the other four derived,
sightless an impossibility for with one alone defeat the
sensory deprivation and give tongues to words

epilogue

read my face
incapable of,
deprivation
but how now silent bow my head to Will
for teaching the way of words
traced upon
a fool or a king's tongue,
two too human,
so that poet may ken
his senses keener,
all for the better,
for the betterment of all
and now you understand how came this poem to be writ
in the pitch black
 42° 
Therese Syang
Yes
If you come back
I'll Say yes
Even if It hurts
I'll Say Yes

I know I'd take risk
I know I'd lie
But I'll Say yes
I'll Say Yes to you

To you, who persists
Who wants me
And will not leave me
To be with me.

I'll forget..
the moments I watched him
the chances I gave...
I gave to myself

To see him
Fight for his dreams
Be happy
And achieve all of these

I'll forget and I'll say Yes.

I'll forget him and I'll say yes to you.

Even if it hurts...
Decisions with unstable emotions may be risky.

Be healed by TIME
 41° 
Mister Granger
I know why the caged bird sings.

It's not because his song
is as vibrant
as his feathers, that he plucks away
each day because he doesn't
feel beautiful.

It's not because of the majesty
that exist in the freedom
of being able to spread his wings
though he knows
he'll never rise to the occasion.

He sings because he believes
that this cage
was made for a king
because he has never tasted
freedom with a side order of skies.

He's never flown past the sun
on a cool morning
or hung with the moon
on a warm night.

He's only ever known
the comfort of a prison
that his thoughts have
become accustomed
to calling home.

He would never venture
beyond the "welcome" mat
because what's beyond the threshold
holds no promise
the way these bars and metal locks do.

He sings because he knows
that no one is listening
so if he makes a mistake
he doesn't have to live with the regret
or embarrassment of knowing that he missed his note.

The caged bird
never believes that he's caged
because behind these walls
he's safe
and he prefers it this way.

I know why the caged bird sings.
A twist on a title by one of my favorite authors...
 37° 
Jeff Gaines
She think's that she is only silver.
Second place, forever and again.
But this girl ... she is so, so much more.
She is my dear, dearest friend.

Her soul, while brighter than the sun,
is tortured by confusion and things in her past ...
lofty goals that would thwart even the toughest
and a lifestyle going so fast.

Courageous ... and meek.
A warrior ... and a flower ... all at the same time.
Legions of followers, those who look up ... never to see,
the little girl who roams in her mind.

She will get were she is aiming ...
my heart believes in her so.
She is strong, stubborn ... so very brave,
and this child inside her grows.

Now distant, I'll still watch her life
unfold

from this abyss, for reasons that may forever remain
untold.

She is far more valuable than any silver, precious gems
yes, even gold.

No object d'art or more costly antiquity ...
has ever,
ever been sold.

I only wish that I could have somehow ...
somehow
made her see ...
that as my friend ... she was so, so much more ...
than merely silver to me.
What can ya do ... What can ya say ... when someone just doesn't "get it"?
 37° 
blue
kiss me in your backseat
like nothing has ever been like this before
'cause you kiss like a promise
like you have never wanted anything more
than me

and just maybe, i'm crazy about you baby
and i guess it's a mess but i've always loved messy
things

and with your lips on my neck, i feel like the best is yet to come
and with my heart on my sleeve, i hope you can see it beats like a drum

and i'm wrapped around your finger and my gaze might just linger on your face
and i can't help but notice what we've made of this moment in this place

is beautiful
you're beautiful.

in the streetlights, with your brown eyes looking into my heart
hold me tighter, with your bright lights lighting up the dark
you're lighting up
i wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
 36° 
Bee
hell is a place where
you constantly love those that
do not love you back.
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