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 Oct 2018 POSSIBLE
Ciel Noir
Atom
 Oct 2018 POSSIBLE
Ciel Noir
What other kind              of creature could divide        
        Each different thing             into its different sides                
  With chaos versus             order, dark and light
The stark duality of         wrong and right
We even split the very        world in two
With human versus human,       we and you
But still no matter how much      we divide
Each thing has infinitely many      sides
 May 2018 POSSIBLE
john
Spaz
 May 2018 POSSIBLE
john
shaking, i'm shaking, i'm told.
like i can stop it somehow
one second i'm in class
the next
i'm on a stretcher
being asked by my principal
if i'm alright?
seizing, you're seizing, you're having a seizure
i'm told as i
puzzle together my surroundings
and as i do i begin to cry
why me? i ask
what did i do to deserve this?
even now, my memories of that day have been tampered
as if some omnipotent force doesn't want me to remember
the horrors of that day.
my friends tell me i walked out of class
no explanation as to why
maybe i thought it looked nice outside
the white clouds painted across the cool ocean sky

the doctors tell me my nerves are misfiring
but so are the thoughts in my head
for whatever reason i end up again
in some unknown hospital bed.
i close my eyes and count to ten
hoping for this to all just end,
but the stress disagrees with me
and leaves my weak head penned.

the last time it happened was in the bleak december
when the skies were gray with the sun's last ember
i am scared of the odds i won't make it to september
because of some unfair episode i can't even remember

Thursday, April 19th
forever imprinted on my inaccurate brain
the day my grandfather died.
the day my mother was diagnosed with cancer.
the day my life changed forever

people say high school was
the greatest four years of their life
that i should cherish and remember forever
for i will never be able to grab a hold of time
and wish to be back
but how should i remember high school
when memories are being deleted
in my brain's system files
and the only memories i have
are of my family falling apart;
my tears' perpetual flowing down my soggy cheeks?

my friends tell me i'm not alone in this,
but how could i be anything else.
they don't know how i feel,
they joke about it now like it's okay
watch out, they say,
don't have a seizure about it, they joke
by now my eyes are hoover dams
damming the tears from
showing the outside world
my true feelings.

and now i conclude,
as i am no longer in the mood
to sit here in deep introspection
because after all, everyone has imperfections
mine are just more unique.
If you have epilepsy, know that you are not alone. You can call a 24/7 helpline @1-800-332-1000 for anything related to epilepsy. I struggle with the repercussions of this genetic disorder everyday. Epilepsy is a very debilitating and life-changing disorder of the brain, and scientists still have no cure for it; however, they are making strides towards a solution everyday.
Ten minutes into my fifth shot
I'm beginning to give meter and -
rhyme all I've got
A half hour after I've had my fill
I'm a man on a mission with a golden quill* ..
Beef jerky and Wild Turkey
An inebriated mind on yesteryears -
journey
Pain riddled in poetic schemes
Purgatories insider inking bellicose themes
..
Copyright November 26 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Momma!
I am your poem.

From that mountain hole
Too many pains left
And from the island of the vexation
A little pleasure on the journey twinkle They made  a missiles
I was fabricated just below your heart
And I am the part of it

Just by planting a tree farm
Trouble dirts your hands
I was penned from composition of roughness
And I am the stanzza of it

Thunder thrown out of your eyes
They are more expensive than pearls
Drinking  nano water
I was  masterminded
And I am the Masterpiece of it

The debt too scared by itself
Searching for fertilizer tissue
Selling the blood of your own
I was painted from the words of penalty
And I am the same book of it

Momma ! I'm not a poetess
I am your poetry ....
I am the product of plenty of sufferings ,and vexation that momma suffers
I am her words falling and rolling in the real life   ,pattern of her language
And I am her whole book
 Nov 2017 POSSIBLE
Star BG
A Million poems are buried
in my heart
waiting for excavation.

Waiting for me to take
pen like shovel forged
from golden Ink,
to make contact with page.

Dig with breath, and focus,
to make headway
inside prose, I do.

Dig in place
where time stops and tunneling commenses towards heart.

Soon headway is made,
as cord is struck that resonates with words.

Words that form
complete visions
and thus a poem is born.

And then... there's only
999,000,000 to go.
Inspired by Rick Stachemore -- thanks
 Oct 2017 POSSIBLE
Joshua Krueger
Rain reminds me of all the tears
I'm too afraid to shed
And all the times I rejected you
By closing my heart and head.
You're there no matter what I say even when what I said-
Might have made you wish that you hadn't died in my stead.
But all the same,
Through thick and thin
You came back time and time again
And that is why I ask forgiveness for my failures and my sin.
I can't do this on my own
So help me to remember
That when I fall and break my heart-
Your love is great, your eyes are bright,
Your embrace is calm and tender.
So let it rain and let me cry.
Take away my fear so I-
Can learn to trust in who I am.
In who I am
In you.
So, yeah. Cutting straight to the chase here- I'm a Christian, and although that can mean a lot of different things these days, I'm sticking to the title. Largely, because "Christian" without "Christ" is just "Ian" and my name is not "Ian." Apologies to any "Ian's" reading this. It's not that I don't like your name, I just think that taking the creator out of the creation is kind of an arrogant thing to do. Anyway- I wrote this as a sort of prayer. I've always struggled with finding my identity in who people around me say I am, sometimes even who I say I am. The truth is though, that I am nothing without the God who has made me holy and righteous in His sight. I am not who I think I am. I am not who you tell me I am. I am who God says that I am. Even when I treat God like crap, He's still there, and He's still good. I still have to deal with the consequences of my actions, but God still love's me. That's my belief. It may be unpopular, but I still believe it. Feel free to message me for more information about my personal beliefs. I'd love to talk to you.
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