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  Jun 2014 Hollow
Wanderer
I am sorry*

We shared those words today
I no longer worry about the shade of our hands
Come Dawn
Love still connects us
Bridge building is slow
Worth while to the persistent
To the patient
Compromise
We are not compatable through
Religion. Philosophy. The Soul.
However, for us, music still stands
Classic rock and 70's disco fever
High pitched BeeGee's
Crooning Zepplin while deer watching
That connection alone binds us
Much less the love of mountains
Cold lungs on frosty mornings
Hunting for dinner with bow, with arrow
I have missed you
Wasted time stretched between us
No longer
Happy Father's Day
Took my own advice.
  Jun 2014 Hollow
Jordan Harris
Her eyes shine like undisturbed dew drops
hovering at the gentle fingertips of young moss
on the northern bark of a white cedar tree
under a lazy morning sun.

Spear points of obsidian pierce the disc:
banished from the core of a volcano
scorched by a molten heart
and choking on onyx soot.

The dawn warmth filters through,
carried by a serene and wafting breeze.
It illuminates the pleasant, tickling greenery,
bringing to light the depth of her irises.

Fire belches from the mountain's stomach,
and the flame ignites a gleam.
Her gemstone eyes shine
as though the embers have been captured within.

At the base, there is the earth:
firm and dark and cool.
Interlocking underbrush layers fawn with chestnut
overtaken but not undermined by powerful streaking tree trunks.

The rim is built of force and rumbles with strength.
A cast of bronze is seething and glowing.
Her intensity blazes as sun spots
deep within ancient amber.

She is as her eyes are
an indigo inferno:
seldom
and
elegantly alive.
  Jun 2014 Hollow
mike dm
serrated blame
pressed down against skim
Shame
thought I caught glimpse
of me
as blame angled in

The hunt for something realer

took a walk up the street
just to see if I could still feel

my molecules
Squirm shift like the seraphim
to become to become
but all I transcend is
day into knifed

so now I grip a different angel
cold aloof primal
uncompromising wing
Slips in
  Jun 2014 Hollow
y i k e s
I've got sunshine in my pocket
           butterflies in my veins
                gold inside my heart
                     diamonds inside my eyes
                           and a loaded gun inside my mind


tell me again, why do I need you?
  Jun 2014 Hollow
mike dm
i have ******
i have felt
but i have never
(not once)
been in love

not "well, maybe once"
nope
never
have i

been in love

been in love
it rolls off the tongue
with a force of its own
a cascade of eddies
flit about the edges

a past tense
slave to the future

been in love
a remembered caress
a needle
a sledgehammer
either way
it does not stammer
it babbles on
a brook a crook

we consent
not to its content but its
unmistakable steps
we bend
to its
innocence

the way it moves consumes

it is, i think, in a sense
what makes us want it
so much
it is what steals the breath

air replaced with
babbling
over tome of stone

i have gladly
taken a scalpel
to its made bed
revealing bones alone
Hollow Jun 2014
It's been four and a half years since I took my dog, and left the rainy little state of Washington. At seventeen, you never expected me to make a life for myself. I was just your incomplete daughter, whose name you cringed saying. I shouldn't like girls and I shouldn't smoke ***. Music is only a dream and poetry is no real goal. Abigail. You gave me a beautiful name, one I used to cherish. On my birthday, when you (in your drunken stupor) sat me down, over a bottle of wine, I never thought animosity would come from your heart.

I was never empty before, under the misconception of love. You called me hollow, and that word can never be retaken. So I have taken that name, and with it I will pave my own existence.

I am Hollow, nothing else, nothing more.

I am a shell, void of life, lost in the sands.

I can't settle down, because I am cursed to emptiness.

Who wants me?

After all, I am *Hollow.
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