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 Mar 2015 Mari
Gillian Drake
When all you can see is
the up and up
and everything
seems to have color.
Where frustration happens when
you don't understand why you
don't like that person
or
don't want to talk to someone who is looking
down at the feet
that carry an cope with them.
Things are looking up for you girl,
but you've got that voice in your head that says
'What if I only fall from this all time high'
Well girl the truth is you will face
Ups and Downs
and you will face
Troubles...
but Girl you have the power to empower the people around you,
and girl you didn't even realize they were the ones
your friends,
made that all time high a reality.
Keep being astounded at how amazing people are, girl
and keep writing those
Ups and Downs
because it's good to reflect on your troubles
and not have your troubles reflect you.
Thinking about how things have been lonely and now things are just really simply enjoyable. I feel like I'm spoiling you guys with this second poem, but I really needed to write this one down.
 Mar 2015 Mari
Gillian Drake
Loneliness knits it's way into my sole being,
leaving no surviving aspect of my life
unturned.
'Feelings' and 'phases' come and go,
where my heart is afloat,
where my heart is a stone.
It sinks.
"Still" I tell myself,
maybe it's just the winter.
My melancholy heart longs to write in beautiful spoken words,
but they can't be captured by a shaky soul like mine,
left to repeat rhapsodies of some whimsical person who didn't know any better.
My mind can't find you because you won't let me find you,
you run away
faster than I can chase.
Loneliness captures me again,
it may have nit picked at my happiness
but my smile was never fake but for a moment.

Dear love,
Please let me know you.
 Mar 2015 Mari
Fallen Angel
“Never trust a ginger”
she sings giggling looking at the red head next to me.
Her song is a pretty good representation of our friendship.
Throw in a ***** bump and some dorky dance moves
oh yea
that’s the definition of our friendship.
Laughing and dying at things no one else gets
actions no one else see’s
and mouthed words no one else understands.
That’s just a little inside view of our *“love”.


“Never kiss a ginger”
It’s a little late for that don’t ya think
blackberry tea and coffee making her laugh till she dies.
Hysterics that break her down till she’s on the floor rolling
rolling down a hill and being so dizzy she can’t get up.
Oh but she’s a monster that chases you around
trying to tackle you to the ground.
Falling off the playground rail and hitting her head
just like in our story
so she lays there laughing hysterically.
All I can do is shake my head

“Never kiss a ginger…twice”
yea that’s a little better.
he won’t be telling my slightly stunned, amazed face its cute again.
The face we later joked about
mouth dropped to the floor
eyes wide.
Like did that seriously just happen.
Our dumb and quirky reactions to everything
exaggerated, excited yeses
and happy little dances.


"Never date a ginger”
I’m not nor have I ever…
where do you get these thoughts that run through your head?
Ok I can’t say much
my mind wanders to the strangest places
and leads us to the greatest conversations.
Like cops on bikes with prisoners in baskets
leading to Mortal Instruments characters all riding one bike.
I’ve no idea where our minds get these strange ideas and imaginings.

“Never love a ginger”
I never said I love him
don’t let your mind wander
dangerous things happen when our minds wander
anywhere from dinosaurs ruling the world to death
and the things in between are sometimes worse to think about

“Never like a ginger”
OI!
with this again
I don’t I promise there’s nothing there
now please shut up.
Yes, yes I love you now please don’t attack my legs again
I really don’t feel like falling on the floor
it’s not very appealing.
Uh-oh
So I wrote this to kind of describe my relationship with my best friend (she also has an account on here Mari). The whole ginger thing came up because of this ginger guy that possibly likes me possibly doesn't. It's hard to tell and guys are too complicated. But Mari came up with the song, the first line in each stanza, and so I threw it into the poem because it's great
 Mar 2015 Mari
ryn
Save It
 Mar 2015 Mari
ryn
I don't seek your permission...
To write about the what, why and how.
It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow.

I don't need your approval...
When I don't sound the least bit poetic...
In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic.

I'm not asking for your blessing...
When I pen down and put up what I think...
Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink.

I don't crave for your understanding...
When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens,
Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense.

I don't hope for your likes...
If my content does not tickle your fancy,
Or if my words just rubs you silly.

I mean no disrespect...
But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button.
Private messaging has been put there for a reason.

I don't mean to cramp your style...*
You're entitled to your own opinions of course...
But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.
.
This is a peaceful community, almost sacred to many. All bearing a heart (hale or ailing) are welcome to spill their ink... Regardless of writing experience or poetic prowess.

Bear in mind that people write for various reasons. Some are really good at it, some are just barely starting. Some ask for feedback, some just want an outlet.

So... Be nice. Use the private messaging feature if you really need to offload your thoughts on another's text offering.

Respect and be respected.
.
 Mar 2015 Mari
Jay Altezza
We live in a world where:
An illusion is called reality
And truth is a conspiracy;
Slavery is freedom
And all work is tough work;
Logic makes no sense
And school numbs the brain;
Our faith lies in those in power
And materialism is the religion;
We want to stand out
But keep trying to fit in;
Blood is not always family
And our tools are our best friends;
Friends are actually enemies
And love is equated to lust;
Peace is fought for
And humility is weakness;
Priorities come last
And talent is disability;
The wolves are the sheepdogs
And the Shepherd is ignored;
Our way of life leads to death
And medication vitiates;
Sanity is madness
And creativity is destroyed;
The past is disregarded
And the future seems bleak.


Centuries ago,
Shakespeare left us the question: To be or Not to be?
I guess it is clear which answer we chose.
 Feb 2015 Mari
Joshua Haines
When the thunder collapses like my grandfather's love,
there's no one that can hate me more than I do now.
As the lights begins to stain and drain my eyes,
there's no one that can hate me more than I do now.
Skeletons fell with the sea shells in the air.
I hope I'm falling asleep.
To no longer be here
is to be fair to everyone.

Art gallery in my head,
where the paintings hang above
polaroids and used condoms.
Where it's okay that I'm there:
the picture of a *******.
Where it's okay to love me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to know me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to get close to me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to believe in me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to be me.

In 2003 I was molested.
I want it to be okay to be me.
I detached myself from lullabies
and sorry eyes, only to realize:
I could have been dead in March,
right before the summer glows
and everyone would know
It wasn't okay to be me.

Why did you have to do it
My flesh tastes tainted,
and my eyes are painted
with the disgust of distrust
and the disgust of your lust
that corroded my body
and ate my blood
Am I any good
I want to be good.
I want to be pure.
I want to be more
than what I am.
****
There's acid in my veins
There's ******* acid in my veins
My body ******* shakes
Even when in love, I shake
When I'm safe, I shake
Am I ever safe

God isn't real, and neither am I
I am about as real as the dream I can't even buy
My talent is irrelevant, my past dictates my decisions
My love is the only redeeming quality,
and even that lacks precision.
I want to be perfect. I'm sorry that I apologize for anxiety;
it's not so much that I'm asking for forgiveness,
I just want to hear that there's no need to be sorry,
because it's okay to be me.

Oh. Hey, my eyes are watering; isn't this cool?
We're all having fun. Yippee.

The sun bursts rays, and there are twenty-three different ways
to stay alive inside when I'd rather hide from the sun's naivety
Searching for warmth on the walls with blistered palms,
as I lay in bed, naked. Removed of clothes and hope.
Blood in my mouth, new starters with broken shoelaces on the floor
Dreaming of different places. I said: dreaming of different places.
Cryptic words. In other worlds. In fire, I learned to drown.

A-B-C-D-E-F-G
Reentering the room, drunk.
H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P
Hide behind the bloodied bunk.
Q-R-S-
T-U-V-
W-X-
Y and Z
Now I've learned my lack of harmony,
next time won't you spare me, please.

Roses fall from the ceiling. There's no way I'm feeling.
Detach yourself from this room, this nation, this planet.
"You're too fragile to talk to, Josh." Thank you.
Don't allow yourself to ever be hurt again.
Regain your focus after I count down from ten.

Ten.
Reasons to stay alive.
Nine.
I want to live, I don't want to survive.
Eight.
There's nothing about me that anyone should hate.
Seven.
There's no god, but right now, I can make my own heaven.
Six.
I detached myself from lullabies and sorry eyes only to realize I love you.
Five.
"You're still there, right?" Dial tone silence, followed by fist to wall violence.
Four.
And to know you, is to know everything.
Three.
Adaptation without reclamation I find you in my translation
as hurt yet elation.
Two.
I want to make love in love. I want to die and donate a part of myself;
my backbone, lack thereof.
One.
When I fall asleep my eyes meet yours.

Intermission:

Do you like hurt? Do you like pain? Is a happy poem not your game?
Well, read a poem by Josh Haines and never look at him the same again.
And don't look at yourself the same, because it's okay to be you!
For the price of absolutely nothing, you can look at his words!
Wait, and that's not all! Validate the 'beauty' of his words by
touching that heart and making it red!
Make it as red as the bloodied bunk that stained his back and heels!
Only for the price of absolutely ******* nothing!
Hurry, though! You only have until the end of ******* forever, so act fast!
The number is
1-800-I'M AVOIDING A LAWSUIT LIKE I DO THE PEOPLE IN MY LIFE

2nd.

Hey, do you like your parents?
Yes!
Trick question. Do you looove your parents?
Yes!!
Do you like seeing your grandmother in a wheelchair?
Yes!
Do you like being hurt by the people that you care about the most?
Yes!!
Then grab some popcorn and cola!

End of Intermission.


Trying like you're crying at the end of the film that documents your life
To divide a knife into your skin like it's a sin to feel this way
I just couldn't take it, bones in the corner of the room.
Inside a skeleton's eyes, flowers bloom.
Chicka-yay-no way. You swear? You say:
Ti-ta-time is on my side, but that's not how it feels inside.
An internal measure of the pressure of the world
and it's bound to run out like the sand in my hands
at the precious beach that would **** me if I stepped
into the blue, for me and you.

Let me turn back time to when I first met you.
Don't be afraid.

I remember everything. To never forget, is to realize every lie,
smile at every face, and to remember every goodbye.

I hurt my hands, I need to talk to you on the phone.

My insomnia lives off the thought, that I hurt you.
The room is blurry, and I'm sorry for being cold.
I am warm. I have the sun inside.
I guess I'm just afraid of burning you with it.

The drums pound into rhyme,
Diamond casualties
Rewind, wound, rewound
To scratch the surface
until there's nothing but sound.
 Feb 2015 Mari
Fallen Angel
Mr. Know It All
Who do you think you are?
You speak like you know everything
when it’s obvious you know nothing.
You act like you’re some kind of genius
but all you are is a freaking alcoholic.

Mr. Know It All
You seem to think you’re Christopher Langan
the man considered to be the smartest in America.
In high school he taught himself things
such as
advanced math, physics, philosophy, Latin and Greek
he allegedly got 100% on his SAT.

Mr. Know It All
What were your accomplishments?
You dropped out of high school your senior year
You started smoking and drinking when you were 15.
You led one daughter to suicide
and you treat the other like she’s an idiot.

Mr. Know It All
Are you Kim Ung-Yong in your mind?
He could read
Korean, Japanese, English and German
by the time he was three.
Moved to America to work at NASA
when he was eight.

Mr Know It All
You’re forty-four
and you can’t even speak one other language
let alone four.
You’ve never worked at NASA
you work in a warehouse.

Mr. Know It All
You are not a genius
you are an alcoholic
you have little accomplishments
and the tragedies you cause out weigh
them by tons.

Mr. Know It All
Give up and shut up
we don’t want to hear it.
Stop drinking
you’re quieter when you’re sober
and we like the quiet.

Mr. Know it All*
The words coming from your mouth
are not intelligent,
and I’m done listening to them.
Goodbye and have a great life.
Just ugh
 Feb 2015 Mari
aar505n
In my nightmare, I was standing in the dark.
The wind bellowing around me, like somone screaming.
I was told to lift the mountain with my bare hands and not leave until I did so.
My insides lit up like a little sun was there, threatening to burn me up.
Sour claws of nausea rip my innards, as if they were teeth gnawing on my raw flesh, being burnt by the sun within.
Ignore it.
It will pass if I focus on the task.
That was my first mistake.
Still, dug my fingers in the ground and began to lift.
Hands began to burn and scream, sweat turned to smoke and muscle strained.
Teeth gritted, I pushed passed the pain, focused on the mountain and I.
Smoke mixed with the wind and the darkness and the screaming, bellowing through the nightmare.
The Sun burns hotter.
Mustered up every ounce of strength I could.
And I lifted.
Heaved the heavy mountain up to the Heavens.
The pain shook through my body until.
Finally the mountain and earth separated and the void between is quickly filled with air.
The weight pass from my hands to my shoulder.
I had done it.
At last almost Atlas-like.
Standing there, mountain remaining on shoulder.
But now what?
The sun still burned, hotter than ever, that blasted furnace.
And in the moment, my attention did lapsed and my body slacked, prelude to the collapse.
What was I thinking?
The wind screamed around me and I began to shake in the dark.
A fake Atlas, with the weight on his shoulder unbearable.
The pressure was too much, too heavy, and too late to do anything.
And the sun burns on.
I want to run to the nearest pier and jump, to disappear beneath the waves.
Stop the burning, end the atrophy of my muscles.
I’ve done unhappy deeds and now I want the most human of needs.
The end to my pain.  
That’s the truth.
I yearn for it.
The sun burns still
I let go of the weight and allow gravity to do its job.
Flattened as the mountain was reunited with the earth.
Thought I could carry the world on my shoulder, but I am no Atlas.
I can't even carry a mountain.
I tried and look where I am now.
I am shattered.
Brittle bones becomes broken and turn to dust.
I have given all I got, thrown in the lot.
Soon my skin will rust and rot away.
Soon there will be nothing left to sustain such a fire but the sole desire for rest.
The sun within continues to burn me.
Until I am nothing but smoke, bellowing in the wind.
This is the combination of three poems that I had that i notice were dealing with the same theme and i thought they went well together.
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