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 Jul 2013 Kristen
MS Lynch
Underneath the lime tree
In hearts of sparkly sixteen
Two loverbirds exploded
Into cosmic effervescence
And there were no surprises
All they could see were sparks
Nobody cared at all
They were special, lucky
Forever dazzled by first love
Sometimes I wish I had more than ashes
Memorial urn with dead roots
But we belong elsewhere each
And my words belong to someone who cares
Goodbye, boy
I will always miss that you
 Jun 2013 Kristen
Sharina Saad
To see...
To hear...
To touch...
To taste...
To feel...
To laugh...
To love...
The Seven Wonders of The World...
 Jun 2013 Kristen
Craig Verlin
Skype
 Jun 2013 Kristen
Craig Verlin
I'm sorry for the
way this is playing out.
It seems like
this road
is all too familiar;
only a matter of time
till we crash and burn
with the rest.
I'm a little scared
we break a little more
with each crash,
each failure,
each missed opportunity.
It isn't easy to keep up.
I wish dearly that it was.
I keep thinking that
it's better to jump ship
then to drown again,
but I keep sailing and sinking,
struggling to stay afloat.
But we get so mad
at each other,
so terribly mad,
and I hate it.
--even though you're
cute when you're angry--
But we yell,
and fight, and say
those terrible things,
and for a moment
I hate you.
I hate you, and all those
words you say,
as cruel and cold as you
can be.
They pile up
and I swear that this is it,
god as my witness.
It's the end.
Then your cute
freckled face
whispers I miss you,
soft into the speakers,
and for some reason,
despite everything else,
I still can't help
but smile.
 Jun 2013 Kristen
Nick Durbin
You have now stripped me to my bones..
Bare, bruised and battered,
Left alone; undone -
I have but few words remaining -

I love you, and this will be my last breath of you...

Turning from you now, as you have turned from me,
Each step distancing our once solidified foundation -
A rising fire, extinguished by an unforeseen ending,
I no longer will await the day you had promised...
For these futile thoughts of us will fade,
Our love whither -
Our love perish -

Simply put...
This is good bye.
 Jun 2013 Kristen
Nick Durbin
Love
 Jun 2013 Kristen
Nick Durbin
Senses are heightened -
Imaginations aligned,
Fabrications of thought become truth...

A simplistic explanation -
Minute in existence,
Yet, monumental in significance...

The inner workings of hope defined,
Outlined to give reason to the universe -
To give purpose to the soul...

A word,
A feeling,
An expression -

Love.
This had someone in mind when being wrote, and inspired by the creative people I surround myself with... May we begin our revolution, and spark a flame to ignite the people of this world.
 Jun 2013 Kristen
Emily Reardon
I have a favor I must ask
of you, and only you:
I need your body back,
your flesh, your warmth.
Your arms wrapped around me,
holding me tight, pulling me in-
silently speaking the words
"you're mine,
I'm your's. We are safe."
because baby, I have
a confession to make
I wrote poems in your
skin that you don't know
I left there.
You see my dear,
I tucked my quiet rhymes
behind your ears for
times I knew you'd
need to hear my words
so soft and sweet,
My words: I love you
My words: I am here
My words: I am not going anywhere.
(Little did I know you would.)
                    •••
I hid similies and metaphors
in the nooks and crooks
of your elbows and knees
because poetry must be just as
good an oil as any for a
twenty-eight year old tin man right?
****, I don't know
but that's where they fit,
where they were meant to go.
                    •••
The first time our bodies connected,
our forces colliding just like
The Milky Way and Andromeda
will in four billion years-
my universe aligning with yours
as we lay in the grass
you and I both whispered:
"This is wrong."
For the first time on
that summer night I wrote
my words secretly into your skin.
My words: "How can something
wrong feel so right?"
                    •••
Baby, I'm looking for home and
I know you're looking for a heart
so here's mine-
written in words on your flesh
that you don't know are there.
Here's mine-
to fill your dark cavern
because no heart should be dark,
no heart a cavern.
Here's mine-
my throbbing, beating mess of a heart
filled with everyone I've ever loved
and there you are on top.
                    •••
Then came the days
without "I love you."
On those days,
with my fingertips frostbitten
and trying to text,
I wrote my words on scraps
of paper, turned them into airplanes,
and aimed in your direction
hoping that maybe,
just maybe,
their tips would pierce your skin
injecting the warmth I once received.
                    •••
To the man I used to love,
You can keep your body
and all the words I wrote in
places I wanted you to look
and hoped you wouldn't miss.
I started writing this poem almost a year ago when I was in love and finished it when I was not. It's a story I didn't want to end but I'm okay even though it did.
 Jun 2013 Kristen
hospitalflowers
He came to me one night
when I was cold and alone,
I was halfway through with it,
an inch from the bone.
He whispered so gently
as he laid me down on the bed,
"what aspect of life
put these thoughts in your head?"

"I don't breathe like I used to,"
I told him, as his image blurred,
"I ask for their help
but they don't say a word."
His vice like fingers
clamped onto my wrist,
"Not on this night, child.
You don't die like this."

Before I could figure out
what I thought he meant,
he opened his mouth,
"my dear, be patient.
For life is a hurdle
in the relay of death,
your time on this earth
is not over yet.

"When you reach the finish
then I'll come for you,
but until that moment,
here's what you'll do;
each problem that throws
itself in your sight,
promise me you won't
give up with no fight.

"The days when you
think you're over and done,
just look in the mirror,
you've already won.
Because you made it this far
through so many years,
you've conquered your demons
and outweighed your fears.

"The pills in the bottle
can wait a while longer,
because with each passing day
you've gotten much stronger.
I don't offer my help
to little girls who suffer,
I'll be breaking the hearts
of the ones that love her.

"Do you see now, child,
what I'm saying to you?
Your time is not up,
your life will ensue."
I bit down on my lip,
and nodded my head,
and just like that,
he disappeared from my bed.

That was the time,
that Death saved my life,
so if you ever want to end it,
just remember his advice.
Don't think of the pain,
and how it'll end soon,
because Death talks a lot,
when he enters your room.


a.d.
It's an acid
Bitter, mordacious, caustic
A hot and writhing serpent in my gut

It's jealousy

She's gorgeous
funny
charming
extroverted
I don't really care about that
Except I wonder if you do.

because you know what else she's got?

She's got your inside jokes
your banter 
your smile
your laugh
your glances across the room

Does she have you?

~
Do you remember our inside jokes?
our banter?
our looks?
I dream of your smile. 
do you remember mine?

Can you talk with her? 
You are one of the few who can argue (successfully) with me.
I can recall your thoughtful look.
You always understood me.
Does she, you?

~
I shouldn't be jealous.
You were never truly mine. 
You never so much as tried to hold my hand. 
much less kiss me,  
or more.

But, knowingly or not, you hold a piece of my heart.

I think there might be 
a hole in your pocket, 
because my heart is slipping.

It feels trembling and small and
-worst of all-
helpless

~
Do you know?
Do you realize?
What you do to me?

~
*Does she have you?
 Jun 2013 Kristen
Craig Verlin
poetry is dead
in the venues we
are accustomed
there is no
beat
sitting on stage
preaching
the madness
no
romantics
in stony silence
as the pages turn
we have no
present day
poets
that still
believe in
the written word
and the effect a
line
break
can
have
on a reader
no no no
no more
no one wants
to settle for behind
the scenes
rockstar lifestyles
don't present themselves
to the typists
beating their keyboards
as they do
their wives
but that's how it goes
these are for me
anyways
not you
this is the purging
of every sinful thought
I create
you don't know the
half of it
probably none
at all
but that's how it goes
these lines
all this poetry
isn't made
for kindles
and smart phones
no more
typewriters
or weekly readings
only me
dark in my room
poisoning
the text box
and shivering
guiltily as i
write
one
more
line
he reminds me of constellations.
not the kind you read about,
or the kind you can see.

but the kind deep out in space,
the ones like waves
swelling within a vast sea.

he is like smelling salts.
waking me up
a little more
each day.

in fact, he is the granule of sugar
looming over the edge
of my morning coffee cup.

but he is also the moon,
shining her smile
brightly upon my ever seeking eyes.

he is the sun,
my reason for waking up on time

and still being a bit late
because i hadn't the time
to admire enough of his beauty.

and, right now,
he is the stolen breath
that just made my heart skip a beat.
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