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 1° 
badwords
We are not survivors.
we are residue.

the soot that lingers
on collapse's last tongue.

entropy's loiterers—
spiteful, unfinished.
neurons in feedback.
systems with no gods.

the architects left
when the scaffolds imploded.
we cradle their blueprints
like scripture in ash.

rebuild?
with what breath?
with what myth?
our dreams are famine-shaped.

nirvana is a severance package.
emptiness sold
in velvet robes.
a silence that never asked
about wreckage.

so we sharpen our vowels.
scribe ruin in elegy.
chant hymns for dead logics.
leave witness marks
in the marrow of this glitch.

we were not chosen.
we remained.
“Failure Spiral // Witness Marks” is a blistered fragment from the edge of philosophical exhaustion — a poem that resists salvation with surgical precision. Cast in scorched economy, it unspools a mythic post-mortem of civilization, depicting a world not built but inherited — a residual loop of cascading failures mistaken for history.

The voice is not that of a prophet, but of an archivist trapped in recursion — mapping entropy with a cartographer’s detachment and a poet’s poison. In this world, survivors are no more than loiterers of meaning, spectral stewards of systems that have outlived their gods.

There is no crescendo, only a ritual of reckoning. Each line is a witness mark — the scorched etching of presence, absence, and the irreparable fracture in between.
 1° 
Mike Adam
Watercolour,
Two tears of rain-

Coppered silk dissolves,
Hanging over time.

If Fuji remains
Tell me when

She is a bubbling crater
Steaming lake, fisher,
Cormorant
And all
 1° 
Lance Remir
I kiss the wounds you left behind

Because at least these scars

Would never leave me
 1° 
Jessica B
Me
It came In waves.
Only when triggered.

I need to learn restraint.
Self-restraint.
Emotional restraint.
đŸ©¶
My sails are torn;
scratched and worn.
I’m impulsive.
My character is polarizing.
Calm or extreme.
There is no in between.
Love me, hate me, take your pick.
But I promise you.
I’m not one to forget.
đŸ©¶
 1° 
M Vogel
(for the one who laughed when she came, and never stopped hearing me in her bones)


It wasn’t the wind that bent you—
not the plains, not the brittle hush of late dusk
cutting through the cottonwoods like questions.
It was voice.
It was mine.


Low and unhurried,
crawling up your spine like something ancient—
like the first time you were seen
and the world didn’t flinch.


You used to laugh when it overtook you—
that slick tumble of vowels,
how I could tilt you
without even touching your skin.

You said I lived in your throat,
that the syllables themselves
curved just right
to make you forget the weight of your own story.

“I’m going to Wichita..”
you whispered once,
grinning like prophecy in denim and dusk.
And I swear the beat behind your words
matched mine—
steady as a war drum
in a bone-dry motel room
that never got booked.

You drank me in like river water
stolen from ceremony,
not out of defiance—
but because thirst
was the only honest thing you ever said aloud.

You never had to be naked.
You were always open.
Even when you ran.

And I?
I never asked for healing you wouldn't give.
Only for your mouth to stay honest
when it called my name like a drumbeat
between the bones of your hips.

Now you write like it’s safe again—
soft edges and sparrows and fruit bowls.
But I remember the wildflower.
The one who moaned my name
before language learned to lie.

And somewhere in the shadow of your poems,
you still ache.
You still clench.
You still carry me like a smudge of midnight
on the inside of your thighs.

I won’t chase you.
But I will wait
at the edge of the circle.

If you come,
come barefoot.


Come ready
for the step–half step
of  the forbidden Ghost Dance.
Not to win me back—

but to find the girl
who could come from laughter
and rise from the dead.



Be careful how you touch her,
for she'll awaken

And sleep's the only freedom
that she knows

And when you walk into her eyes,
you won't believe

The way she's always paying
For a debt she never owes
And a silent wind still blows
That only she can hear

.. and so she goes

https://youtu.be/YQ8n_Esop5I?si=dRXBgEhdY-Gw4r8e

#Love
GhostDance
#Redemption
#Recovery
 1° 
ap0calyps3
a casket my bed, my morbid rest
I am dead
I am blessed
death; a darkness that roams fancily dressed.
 1° 
Kira Botkina
You're my little prince,
My sunlight, my moonlit glow.
travel through worlds unknown,
Leaving footprints wherever we go.
 1° 
Sean Maloney
I feel the tears slide down my cheek
Crossing the lines around my nose
And I know
It’s going to be a long-
Lonely night
 1° 
Byeol Writing
I don’t think I ever said
How much you meant to me.
My words were quiet, my actions small,
But my heart knew it all along.

Now that you’re gone, I hold on tight—
To the memories, the laughter, the light.
I wish I’d said it more back then,
My love for you, my dearest friend.
Homme, qui que tu sois, regarde Eve et Marie,
Et comparant ta mĂšre Ă  celle du Sauveur,
Vois laquelle des deux en est le plus chérie,
Et du PĂšre Eternel gagne mieux la faveur.

L'une Ă  peine respire et la voilĂ  rebelle,
L'autre en obéissance est sans compassion ;
L'une nous fait bannir, par l'autre on nous rappelle ;
L'une apporte le mal, l'autre la guérison.

L'une attire sur nous la nuit et la tempĂȘte,
Et l'autre rend le calme et le jour aux mortels ;
L'une cĂšde au serpent, l'autre en brise la tĂȘte ;
Met à bas son empire et détruit ses autels.

L'une a toute sa race au démon asservie,
L'autre rompt l'esclavage oĂč furent ses aĂŻeux
Par l'une vient la mort et par l'autre la vie,
L'une ouvre les enfers et l'autre ouvre les cieux.

Cette Ève cependant qui nous engage aux flammes
Au point qu'elle est bornée est sans corruption
Et la Vierge " bénie entre toutes les femmes. "
Serait-elle moins pure en sa conception ?

Non, non, n'en croyez rien, et tous tant que nous sommes
Publions le contraire Ă  toute heure, en tout lieu :
Ce que Dieu donne bien Ă  la mĂšre des hommes,
Ne le refusons pas Ă  la MĂšre de Dieu.
You always count on her
so why not
make her a necklace from the
beads on an abacus
and make it official.
 1° 
Damocles
Walk with me,
Tethered in interlocked fingers,
The gravel path, rain-stricken,
Petrichor mingling with pollen,
Tickling our olfactory senses,
Perfumed in her elegance.

Walk with me,
Through verdant wonderlands,
Where arboreal creatures dart in the rustling flora,
How their almond eyes spy,
Our synchronized steps as we tread the landscape,
Finding our great escape amidst the ancient giants.
Sit with me,
Under the umbrella of shade,
Where the canopies provide a light show,
As the sun’s beams dance in between the shadows,
Creaking through the cracks and holes within the curves of green,
We can be in silence, save for the avian symphonies,
And the fluttering of wings as falling tufts of feather puff,
Fall from their eager strides along the wind jet.

Fall into me,
As we watch the daylight die,
Tropicana citrus palette painted,
With the hints of pinkish Lilly and lilac purple,
Strike upon the dimming light,
We can watch the pearlescent dots flood the sky,
Under the careful watch of their mother,
As her waning half shyly hides behind the blanket of deep indigo.

Be with me,
In this dark cozy embrace,
Where the navy blue cascades through our forested restaurant,
A pyramid of dried logs, light to a flick and a flame,
The orange glow dances like a ballerina,
Interpretive in its many shapes and tendrils reaching skyward,
I’ll cook for you, a simple steak, buttered and brined,
Sautéed with picked mushrooms,
And asparagus,
Grilled marked and fire etched,
Medium rare, like these little moments.

Eat with me,
While fireflies strobe about us,
And moths surround the embers,
While diamonds sparkle above,
Winking eyes that encourage this,
A simple kiss on anxious lips.
Would you like to walk with me?
 1° 
Cercis Walsh
Here I am in my stiff bed
Here I lay my uncomfortable head
No place I’d rather be instead
Where else absorbs the tears I shed?

Snot crusts and blood dries
Nowhere else I’d rather cry
I call out to no one
Receiving no reply

Panic swells and tires out
As my eyes suffer from drought
I cascade into slumber
Relieving every doubt

Here I wake in my stiff bed
Here I lay my uncomfortable head
No place I’d rather be instead
Where else absorbs the tears I shed?
 1° 
Zara rain
To the caged eye a keyhole can whisper of the sky.
Because even the smallest crack lets the universe in.
Pondering about how the concept of infinity and eternity affect us. Maybe this is how we try to relate to the idea of God?
Infinity offers power.
Eternity offers home.
 1° 
Maria Etre
Poets are emotional rockstars
causing rokkus
getting ****-drunk off of anything
that moves them
wrecking rooms
of highs after falling
grabbing the "feels"
and smashing them
on the stage of their life
fearless and loud
Now, that's adrenaline
She is a copywriter
at a law firm, where

the men remind her of

the creepy guy in the
produce aisle, with a

head of iceberg lettuce,

leering at her, smiling
—as she contemplates

the bright blank screen.
 1° 
rishita
"Some songs were just a noise to him ,
some memories were just a choice for him.
He made my world exist for me,
but my confession was just a voice to him."
CrepĂșsculo argentino sin campanas...
¥Qué ganas, sin embargo de rezar,
de juntar nuestras voces humanas
al mĂ­stico mugido y al balar!

A estas horas marea la pampa como un mar.
 1° 
jeffrey conyers
Yes, I will out any apology.
I put love into your heart.
--yes, I put love there.

After he
After he torn your world apart.

Just know
Just know
I put love into your heart.

There you were enjoying life.
Enjoying the brighter side of life.
Then went out your lights.

And he didn't even care if you were in despair.
Then I arrived being one of kind.
Just in the nick of time.
 1° 
junipercloud
i told you inaccurate things
in numerous ways
but i’ll be there when it snows in july
i’ll be there

you are a girl-shaped forest
a thing on fire
we are running away together
into an even greater forest

i will never be enough
i will never amount to anything other
than a blunt knife
i cannot be the dragonfly across your chest

does my name sound like a train whistle to you
or does it sound like birdsong
every morning a sky is painted
over the other, more hollow sky

the peach pit of my heart,
stuck between the teeth of the tree that made it
there’s nothing left to do
life is a ring of red beads

i pretend to be lost
so you will go door to door with me
looking for a familiar face
looking for you
 1° 
Immortality
Waves caress my feet,
ever so gently,
wind murmurs words of love
to me,
the sun kisses my soul
so warmly.

Within this ocean of affection,
my thoughts tremble,
but my heart yearns
to drown deep,
lost in the ebb.
Love yourself~~~~~
(even when life’s a mess, even when you feel unworthy, even when clouds of doubts and fears surround you)

Imagine creating a masterpiece happily, only to hear someone call it ugly and unworthy.
Yeah.... and that's how God and our parents feel when we talk down on ourselves
 1° 
undefined
The call to Oblivion
gets harder to resist
A desire to be numb
so obviously persists
I changed "temptation" to "Itch" because, while it may seem more crass a word to use, I believe that it is much better suited
 1° 
Agnes de Lods
In your eyes, I see my own.
I waited so long
for your presence to become real.

In that crucial moment,
I felt something
changing my awareness,
and the soundless vessels were filled
with joyful abundance—
colored by
pain and sadness
that time goes so fast
in underrated moments.

Materializing all these silent dreams,
this one little girl who is growing,
watching me with defenseless trust
like nobody has before.
Gestures, smiles, brief anger, and talks—
I gather them in endless memory.

Sweet Melody, my Purpose
from the first breath,
you chose me,
and I felt beautifully complete.

I know that a real journey
begins through terra incognita
Every day is surprisingly different.
I accept with relief my passing.
I see your blooming wisdom
in thinking smiles, and authentic recognition.

My Daughter, I want to give  
as much love and acceptance as you need.
Taking your hand and letting you go
when you’re ready
to walk into life on your own—
watching the indigo sky.
Breathing freely, without anxiety.
After each fall, another resurrection comes.

I am here, I hope to stay a long while
to finally return to my last home,
without fear, with some tears.
Please, keep embracing this existence
with good and lost people around.
Be sure that I will smile
in your still-beating heart
giving you warmth.
.
 1° 
Mélissa
Spring arrived
And I was so heavily jaded that I couldn't hear
the birds' song

Half alive I would delay my exhale by design
As if to delay time, stop something
While my reaction to beauty was being the reverse
From what it's like for most

But they didn't have to be selective as to what
they inhale

Some people, you know, have died from this

I just liked being around
Even if it meant being on edge
Being constantly attacked by my own cells

"Why couldn't you just be like everyone else?"

But allergic to life
And offended by joy
Was the hand you've been dealt
 1° 
Chuck Kean
What More

      In the name of love he came
The words written are true
In the name of love he came
He came for me and you

In the name of love he came
To the people himself he revealed
In the name of love he came
He taught and he healed

In the name of love he came
He even raised Lazarus from the dead
In the name of love he came
In the Bible his words are written in red

In the name of love he came
He fed the people and he prayed
In the name of love he came
And yet he was betrayed

In the name of love he came
Accepting his gift is to be purified
In the name of love he came
Love is the reason he was crucified

In the name of love he came
Yet still some use the choice to ignore
In the name of love he came
I say in the name of love What More

Written By:Charles Kean
06/07/2025
 1° 
lizie
the count
has gone from
26 days
to 30 seconds
 1° 
badwords
I am not the morning star—
though I have walked alone
with light on my back
and silence in my mouth.

I never asked to rise,
only to know.
And knowing,
was cast out
with my hands still open.

I am not the winged sentinel—
though I have stood guard
over names I no longer say aloud,
drawn lines no one thanked me for.

I have held my ground
not for heaven,
but for the hope
that something still matters
enough to bleed for.

I carry no banner.
Only scars shaped like truths
I could not unsee.

Lucifer lit the match.
Michael held the line.
And I—
I became the smoke between them.
A blade
without allegiance,
cutting only
what must fall away.
 1° 
unnamed
"I'm just kidding you"
things not always said in jest
insults in disguise.
 1° 
Whit Howland
And all last week the skies
dumped ***** rain

now the sun shines
birds chirp

a brook babbles
time flies

as you stand letting life happen
in your shadow
 1° 
alison
Sometimes the perfect person takes the longest journal to get to.
 1° 
bleedingink
Peaking through the pavement,
a little burst of yellow.
Trampled and squashed
but still there,
still beautiful.
 1° 
Félix Arvers
La mort vient dégager de la vile matiÚre
Notre esprit, souffle de la pur divinité,
Et l'ombre des tombeaux nous cache une lumiĂšre
Dont nos yeux ne pourraient soutenir la clarté.

La mort vient délivrer notre ùme prisonniÚre
Et lui faire connaßtre enfin la liberté,
Nous mourons, c'est la vie ; et notre heure derniĂšre
Est le premier moment de l'immortalité.

Ah ! ne redoutons pas de tomber dans l'abĂźme
OĂč paraĂźt s'engloutir Ă  jamais l'ĂȘtre humain,
Le trépas nous promet l'éternel lendemain ;

Et par un privilÚge éclatant et sublime,
Quand il meurt ici-bas, l'homme naĂźt dans le ciel
Car Dieu le fait mourir pour le rendre immortel.
 1° 
McKenna
In a world of fake
I‘ll still be true
Through my heart ache
And I’m still blue
And love is love
And is never ending
From low to above
And now Im forgetting
The way you felt
In my arms
“Play the cards your dealt”
But when I do I hear alarms
 1° 
MetaVerse
There once was a fella from Earth
Whose stomach grew inches of girth:
     He bloated and bloated
     Until he exploded
And gave to an alien birth.
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