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 Mar 2015 AP
Creep
The sun stayed out for a little while longer today,
It decided to check on all the peeps.
It yawned a great big yawn and peered out from behind the curtains of clouds,
Glaring at us all.
Even with that mighty glare,
People stared at its beauty,
Blinded by it, even,
Its looks burning onto their skin.
And they rejoiced.

For so long it had hid, and now it was out again,
Everyone was able to see her majesty
To admire her beauty and to bathe in
Her radiance.
She will beat down on everyone,
Be merciless with her immense love,
And then hide again.
But people will miss her harsh tactics.
She will be loved.
It was 5:30pm and the sun was still out for once woohoo spring plz come quick! But ****, I didn't have a camera with ne but when I walked home from guitar practice, imagine this: pale white snow covering a forlorn cemetery, the sky red and blue the sunsetting down into the white horizon with the skycrapers and trees covering its shy face.... ***..

Here comes the sun
By the beatles
She will be loved
By maroon 5
 Mar 2015 AP
Christopher KD
Pursuing yet another parabolic
Crawl across the clear, blue, summer sky
The sun started its journey at the horizon.
Radiating—  Forcing its warm, orange, light
Through venetian blinds; the glowing celestial body
Painted her naked, flawless, skin
With stripes of contrasting light as she slept.

He watched her quietly as the shadows
Manifesting between each strip of light, inched
Across her skin in unison with the suns trajectory.
Ever so slightly opening her sleep-crusted eyes
She looked up at him, yawed gently, smiled and
Rolled over to position her body against his.

Her narrow, freckled face, rested easily
In the crevice between his arm and chest.
Letting out one more yawn, her emerald, green,
Eyes fell back behind their lashed curtains of flesh;
Dozing off into the next satisfying slumber.

The ceiling fan above clicked and waved erratically
But offered no relief from the hot, humid air.
Perspiring slightly, her skin remnant of morning dew.
In those last few minutes of direct, morning, light
Right before the sun left the scope of their window
He couldn't help but think that this was it.
This was love, and he was trapped.
 Mar 2015 AP
Willis Norman
Sparks
 Mar 2015 AP
Willis Norman
Restless thoughts
Patterned movements
Centered mind
Cast to wind
Think in colors,
Motions, rhythms
Sparks

Aging wood
Food for wondering
Warm veins wander
In and under
Burst in colors
Torn asunder
Heart

Light and heat
Gathered where
Dark and cold
Held the keys
Breathe in colors
Let our words be
Sparse
 Mar 2015 AP
ALYA
raindrops crashes into the soil, succumbs to the force of gravity. mother of earth seemingly wants to share its sadness, but doesn't know who to vent to.

gloomy sky never fails to stir the emotion of humans beneath it. for some, rain makes them feel calm and relaxed; some also might be reminded of their unrequited love, reminded of someone, somewhere.

meanwhile, i keep imagining how it's like to kiss your cheek only for a fleet second, how it's like to hold your hands amidst pervading petrichor.

but you're out there, holding your hands
with someone

somewhere.
Please, I want you so bad.
 Mar 2015 AP
Poppy Johnson
do you know the feeling when
you wake up early
at the time when the rest
of the house is sleeping
and you don't have the energy
to do anything else but
stare blankly at a wall?
that's what it feels like.
numb.
silent.
tired.
you just want to sleep again
but the stars behind your eyelids
are so beautiful
that you fear when you shut them
you'll never wake up
again.
 Feb 2015 AP
Creep
Colored ravens
 Feb 2015 AP
Creep
They are fighting again.
Two lovebirds stuck in a cage,
Pretending to be lovebirds,
But are really ravens painted lovely colors.
They put on a show when their owners watch,
Chirping happily,
Flittingly loving.
But turn your back for one second,
And they will screech, quarrel,
Claw each others throats out.
And they think we don't know.
Parents are fighting again. I'm nervous and anxious.

Dead bite
By hollywood undead
 Feb 2015 AP
omar zaied
lust
 Feb 2015 AP
omar zaied
an evil man lures with blissful plans
and then taketh away with rejecting hands
 Feb 2015 AP
Megan H
Forgotten
 Feb 2015 AP
Megan H
A poem created in a head-
Lost before it can be written down,
Is a true tragedy.
A story that will never be told
Words that will never be released
Forever ******
To the graveyard
Of forgotten memories
And the crypts
Of stolen livelihood.
I think up poems all day, and when I forget them, it makes me quite sad.
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