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 Dec 2018 lex
Ally Ann
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't
 Mar 2018 lex
Ciel Noir
Atom
 Mar 2018 lex
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
 Feb 2018 lex
Will
Fields
 Feb 2018 lex
Will
Lay me down in fields of green,
whisper promises and dreams,
as wildflowers sway in rippled sighs,
and treetops kiss the smiling sky.
Hold me close and stroke my hair,
while breathless love songs fill the air.
Never fear for I am near,
always close to you my dear.
 Feb 2018 lex
Elizabeth Squires
she wove a picture of glory with her hand
each thread showing the colours of nature
to behold its fine attributes was grand
all of the features making for rapture
her vista truly astounding to sight
blue of sky stretching over the terrain
pristine snows covering mountains of height
red soils spanning across the open plain
so splendidly embroidered our globe
with hues of green in the vegetation
floral shades deftly sewn through a robe
the wondrous exhibit of prime creation  
our planet possesses remarkable tints
she is an asset of such divine glints
 Feb 2018 lex
lyka
Poetry is when I play interpreter to my heart
Fumbling to find the right words
Stumbling to convey love beyond a four letter word
A million things get lost in translation
I inscribe loneliness most times
Happiness she prefers left unwritten
And you, she'd rather kept hidden
But I know you from all the unintended traces that spill unto everything she says
I try not to write about you
Or at least eclipse you in between the lines
But it's impossible when you're the one all her words are meant for
 Jan 2018 lex
Iska
We all tell woes Of shattered things.
Scattered dreams and pretty things.
All tangled up in endless string.

A string of letters,
Of words and lines
Mixed with emotions
and beauty and lies

Stories of girls broken inside,
Of boys with more blood to dry.
Of Secrets and lies hidden away
Of adults trying to make it just one more day.

Some are well told
Others a jumble of string
Yet in them all one uniting thing.

The audience.

Ah yes, those brave souls, willing to read.
To read the rambling of broken things.
Of flickering poets crying to be heard.
Of lost souls with pathways blurred.

So gather all your tangled string
And join in the cacophony of broken things
As we spin around this shattered ring
I ask you of one simple thing...

Do you smear yourself in ink and pain,
Just for the number of readers you'll gain?
Or is it an art to be admired?
Something to live on long after we expire?

No, if that's true I'm afraid
you've got it all twisted,
its not for the audience that poetry existed.
It's for the poet, tangled in string,
It gives them a chance to create the whole thing.

A world where no one chooses what goes
Save for the poet who truly knows.
The reason to write, To fight and bleed,
Is because we all long to be tangled in string
Why do you write?
What is the purpose?
 Jan 2018 lex
Iska
One day,
he will look at me and smile,
not worry.
One day,
he will hold my hands,
not check my wrists and thighs.
One day,
he will see me laugh,
and not search for tears hidden in my eyes.
One day,
he will dance and smile,
not hold me and cry.
One day,
he will kiss me in the mirror,
not cover my eyes.
One day,
we will go on adventures,
not terrified to go outside.
One day,
we will playfully banter,
not bicker and argue.
One day,
he will look at me and joke around,
not watch himself,
worried he will cause me to fall apart.
And...
One day,
we will be happy.
One day,
we will be healthy.

One day... One day.
To all of you who are at that "almost"
Dreaming for the "one day"
To turn into "today"
Becuse I understand.
And it will happen.
....One day.

Also for DreamMare
Who makes me feel a little less alone
:)
Keep writing my dear.
There is healing in it.
~Iska
 Jan 2018 lex
Born
simple
 Jan 2018 lex
Born
When I write a poem about earth
I want you to shut the **** up and read
despite your constant bragging
that you are a feminist
a painful journey bestowed upon yourself
Which you truly can't comprehend

When I say money isn't happiness
I mean go and get it tattooed
engraved
Embedded
In your head that it ain't happiness

When I talk about love
I want you to know it can easily be broken
It is fragile like glass
and light like a feather

When I say loneliness will always creep in
know that pain and suffering is at the door
life on all levels can hauntingly disappoint us
but the marvelous grand thoughts of hope
Keep us moving
 Jan 2018 lex
Jon York
If I Promise
 Jan 2018 lex
Jon York
Will you trust me with your heart as I trust you with mine if
I promise. . .
to be your strength when you are weak
and your voice when you can't find the
words to speak and if
I promise. . .
to give you faith
when you are insecure and if
I promise. . .
to listen to you
when you need to talk and if
I promise. . .
to always hold you
when you need to be held and if
I promise. . .
to be your smile
when you are frowning and if
I promise., . .
to always tell you what is real
when you want to hear the truth and if
I promise. . .
to be your dream catcher
to chase away you're every fear and if
I promise. . .
to tell you no lies
but just what is true and if
I promise. . .  
I will try to lift you up
when you are feeling down and if
I promise . . .
to be your strength
when ever you are falling down and if
I promise. . .
to never hurt you
or break your heart and
you know that
I can't promise you the world and I can't promise you the sky or promise you that we will never fight or that you will never cry but I can promise you that I will always be true till the end of time, so will you trust me with your heart as I trust you with mine knowing that our success won't just happen by default but can and it will happen by design.                                                          ­                Jon York   2018
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