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 Dec 2017 Ella
Raindrop
A blue moon loomed in the sky tonight,
everyone watched you in awe
as you shined so bright.
Did you miss us, dear?

My love who now dwells in the skies,
your sufferings have come to an end.
Worry not about us anymore
for we're happy you've found peace in paradise.

Do come to us once again
in the form of the stars or the quiet rain,
falling gently from heaven.
Let us feel your love once more

We miss you,
but it is time to let you go
dance happily with the angels if you may,
fly high, precious one.
you'll always live in our hearts. thank you, kjh.
 Dec 2017 Ella
Nat Lipstadt
The Real Poets Here

are small craft
sailing between the narrows of crack'd lines,
employ the spyglass and luck to you,
for them to find

their voyages do not widen the chasm of waste,
yawning greater now by propped up boasts of
ugly shipowners who sin by commission,
national ***** crowing of the greatest length of their prow,
thinking that is a measure of prowess,
their tubs,
all but empty wordy new container ships,
that are forever lost at sea,
even before leaving port

they,
the real poets,
are the quiet lost lot,
a troop of forgettable ordinary  Marines,
the sailors in the engine room toiling,
exploring cartographers ***** from the ****** crafting struggle,
looking to discover unmapped,
invisible poles,
East and West

opening up new passages,
within us,
with new passages

when called to arms,
the real poets
spill fresh ***** fluids from within the heart and mind borne,
upon the blank spaces,
they stain us with the grasping gasps of their sight insided

fertile are the pastures
where they lay low modest lay thinking,
amidst the splendor in the grass

of them
I*
proudly will ever boast,
hold them close and ever nameless,
but deep inscribed inside of me

Ah,
the real poets keep me
whole within the
ever smaller white purity of this narrow space
that has lost the struggle
to contains the
unceasing ever spawning black letter'd oceans and navies of
repetitive sad, sadly repetitive,
puerile singsong cant
that never sings,
can't never please,
but trends to the masses madly

dewdrops of tears,
are my own trees felled,
an acknowledgement that
when I read their unintended homages to humankind,
that when realized,
they speak with great respect,
all quietly scream this whisper...

all this,
that I have written,
and will yet to write,
this is all,
to give
greater glory to all human ability
whose
sole purposed to fill us,

wrench us from our lackadaisical comfort,
or  urgently comfort us when none else can,

these are my friends,
the real poets here*

god keep you well

my trite words insufficient
so I gift you
some words worthy from
Wordsworth
"Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
      We will grieve not, rather find
      Strength in what remains behind;
      In the primal sympathy
      Which having been must ever be;
      In the soothing thoughts that spring
      Out of human suffering;
      In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind."

William Wordsworth. 1770–1850

Compose and Posted 3:30am June 12, 2014
 Nov 2017 Ella
Blake
Gunshots
 Nov 2017 Ella
Blake
Their words aren't just syllables
They're gunshots
Bullets released from the barrel
Not looking for laughter
But looking to ****
Taking the voices from those who need to use them most
Tears aren't just tears anymore
Tears have turned to blood
Flowing from every exit it can find
Arguments aren't just controversies
They're wars.
Interpret this how you will.
 Nov 2017 Ella
Heaven
Broken heart
 Nov 2017 Ella
Heaven
They tell me
"You have no heart"
But I love people
I just always end up hurt.
I can appreciate people
but they haven't given me a reason to.
I have a heart,
it's just broken into pieces.
 Nov 2017 Ella
Joshua Haines
When I was little
I played with plastic toy knives
and dragged them across
my brother's throat
saying, "You're dead!
You're dead! You're dead!
I swear, you're dead!"

And we pretended
kool-aid was blood,
letting it drip down
my chin and neck,
down my chest,
past my pec.

I wrecked my bike
and ran for days.
I was stung by bees and swore,
"Nothing could hurt more
than this."

And when I turned twelve,
I learned how to ******* to dreams.
The grip on my skateboard
wouldn't let go of me.
I ollied over plastic bags
and stared at lottery tickets
sleeping in the garbage.

She and I played with fireworks
faster than shooting stars.
We waded in the lake,
being a cliche.
She and I rolled on the grass, naked.
I don't know where she is, now.

I don't know.
 Oct 2017 Ella
Elizabeth
Hiding
 Oct 2017 Ella
Elizabeth
If you looked in the corners,
You'd find her right there,
Hidden by darkness,
And the curls in her hair,
Her nose in a book,
With her head in the clouds,
Hidden her feelings,
Away from the crowds,
If you sat by her side,
While the world passed you by,
She'd tell you the story,
Behind the pain in her eyes,
If you gave her five minutes,
You'd see how her smile,
Makes even the bad things
In life seem worthwhile,
But you don't look in corners,
You don't even glance,
So she sits there still waiting,
To be given a chance.
 Oct 2017 Ella
George Cheese
She
 Oct 2017 Ella
George Cheese
She
When I saw you
in moonlit snow,
for a moment
I believed in God.

I am a river trying to meet the sea.
I come from the sky
and rush across the land,
through forest and ravine. I spill
and dart through the world,
hoping
to find you.

Had we but world enough, and time.
quiero comenzar de nuevo.
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