Mari: Favorites

Oct 2015 Mari

ryn

Allow me to step into your space.
Let us be close,
standing face to face.
So close...
Where our hands could meet,
and our hearts could greet...
The one chance
to finally indulge this long awaited dance.

Cradling one another...
In open arms.
Surendering...
Submitting...
To careless caresses,
bashful gazes and charms.

Our feet would mirror,
the gaits
of each other.
Our eyes ensnared
with senses all bared...
To the rise and fall
of the nectarous melody.
Playing for what seemed like eternity
in silence.

That eternity is now here.
Seizing this dance,
we gambol and frolic
without reservations and fear...
For the hours have frozen
and the seconds have ceased to tick.

This is our song.
Seemingly refined,
cultured and well versed.
This is our dance.
Enchanting,
perfect,
albeit unrehearsed.

#dancing #hellopoetry107 #unrehearsed

Oct 2015 Mari

Untitled

Oct 2015 Mari

Ellie Shelley

Untitled

I figured out my suicide plan doctor
You've been asking if I had one
And now I do
I want to swallow just enough pills
Not to much
Just enough to make the voices in my head finally go way
Then I will climb to the roof
with my note books
Every single thing I've ever written
And I will bring my best friend
*****
Yes doctor, I've told you that I have other friends, but ***** was here when no one else was
And I will write till the voices come back
I will write about every time I have tried to **** myself
I will write a letter to everyone who knows me
Even the janitor that found me skipping class my sophomore year
And the boys on the bus from middle school
Even the people who wont let my name soil their lips
Doc, I'm gonna write these letters because I need everyone to have a permeant personal good bye, something physical
I will fill up two note books with everything I write
And then I will write to whatever god there may be
And tell them I'm sorry that I had to end everything this way
You see doctor I've never believed in God, but if there is even a small chance he's real I don't want to leave on bad terms
I'm going to write down every coping skill I know and address it in a letter to my parents
Then once I can no longer write even my name
I will stand and dance in the light of the moon
Letting the soft glow dance on my skin
And I will ignore the chill of the night
I will dance till my knees shake
And then I will speak to the moon
Doc the moon is like *****, Its always been there
I will apologize to the moon
Reaching to hold it in my arms
Toes on the edge
I will fall reaching for the moon
And in the final moments I will rejoice in the cool wind nipping at my skin
I will bask in the soft shimmer of the stars
I will say I'm sorry as the soft grass makes contact with the back of my head
You see doctor I've figured out my suicide plan

Oct 2015 Mari

Let...

Oct 2015 Mari

ryn

Let...

Let the crushing waves
wash the abrasive sand from our eyes

Let the infinite blue
replenish our breaths for deeper dives

Let these words fall free
and fill the silence between us

Let the beats of our hearts
set the pace for our lives

#life #passion #let #hellopoetry107

Sep 2015 Mari

Lend Me...

Sep 2015 Mari

ryn

Lend Me...

Lend me your eyes.
So I could fill them
with the bursting stars.
Telling tales of the spellbinding universe,
singing songs of exploding suns...
and of splintering quasars.

Lend me your thoughts.
So that if I may,
write of them.
Fantastical scribbles of love
and praise.
Meticulously lined
and carefully stitched...
with immaculate lace at the hems.

Lend me your breaths.
I'd catch them as they fall...
between the words you would say.
Merging mine with yours...
introducing colour...
and vigour
to my monochromatic world of
black, white and grey.

Lend me your heartbeats...
for mine thumps erratic.
As if beating in silent mock.
I depend on the steadiness in yours.
So they could usurp
the ticks of worldly clocks.

Lend me your hands.
Palms up as a sign,
perhaps as an invitation...
for me to take them.
And maybe...
hopefully fill them...
with mine...

#hellopoetry107 #lendme

Sep 2015 Mari

Weapons In Your Eyes

Sep 2015 Mari

Thomas EG

Weapons In Your Eyes

I can see weapons in your eyes
You wish to cut so many ties
I must tell you so many times
To stop with all of your white lies
That you tend to internalise
Take a moment to realise
That this isn't change but surprise
And yet you still reach for the knives

Two friends inspired me today and this came to be.

#lies #eyes #change #stop #weapons #surprise #reach #knives #realise #internalise

Sep 2015 Mari

Help

Sep 2015 Mari

Thomas EG

Help

I go to a party.
You ask to come along.
You join us, you make a mess, we leave and then return...
I try to help.
I always try to help.
I have to take you home, in the end.
You apologise profusely, but I deny your apologies.
I am happy to help.
I feel useful, for once.
Comforting friends is one of the few ways in which I manage to feel useful.
You get home safe.
I'm relieved.
But then she saddens...
She tries to laugh it off, as she says that she's not okay.
As soon as I let her know that it's okay to not be okay, she loses it.
I hold her.
I hold her so tightly.
I rub her arm and pull her body closer to mine.
She feels warm, but I can only imagine how cold she is on the inside.
I make an attempt, but I have no clue how to cheer her up.
If I'm honest, I don't think that she needs to be cheered up at all.
She needs to feel this pain.
She is so incredibly strong and I know that she should let herself feel it.
She needs to accept that it's over.
He's gone.
It's terrible, but he's ******* gone.
"It's sore, it's so sore," she tells me, through her sobs...
I pull her closer still.
I won't ever let her feel this hurt again.
I love her.
More and more friends gather around us and they all love her as much as I do.
As much as he should.
That ******* ****.
We cheer her up, temporarily, and she moves back onto the dancefloor.
They all dance and I go for some air.
They tell me that I am a man in their eyes.
I thank them, and I mean it, yet I can't help but feel sort of off...
I cherish their words, of course, but it shouldn't have to be like this.
I need a distraction.
Whether it be blood trickling down my arm, or smoke filling up my lungs, I want to **** it.
I want to **** this dysphoria.
This feeling of being wrong.
I'd love to feel right, for a change.
Why am I such an outcast?
I don't stand out, because no one sees me, but I definitely don't fit in...
I just want to be myself, inside and out, but I don't have the consent to do so.
They should've realised by now that this is what I need.
I need help.
I need more than just beautiful friends and family and alcohol and pain...
I need reassignment, not just reformation.
I need medical help, not just therapeutical.
I need love, not just care.
Love...
True love.
Sure, the thought counts, but I am in need of one ******* gesture.
One in particular.
I need it to be consensual.
You give me consent to kiss you.
I argue.
YOU DON'T WANT ME.
But you swear that you do.
"I don't want you to feel things," you admit, with tears flooding down your face.
Well, neither do I!
But I can't ******* help it.
I should really sleep, but now I need to feel things.
Something.
Anything.
Even if it is just the tears that I'm crying.
At least it's something.
But sometimes nothing is better than something.
I think we both need to remember that.
So forget your apologies.
I apologise.
I can't feel anything anymore...
I just want to feel euphoria.

I wrote this after a party last night. I wasn't in the greatest mood. (Trigger warning: self-harm.)

#love #friends #pain #tears #dysphoria #help #distraction #apologies #euphoria #consent

Jun 2015 Mari

Straight and Fast

Jun 2015 Mari

Reece AJ Chambers

Straight and Fast

Second-hand smoke
thrums within my ribcage
and I notice every atom
from top to bottom
crannies and nooks
mahogany lava
flooding over shoulders
blue-streaked toes

I can't look away
I don't want to look away
at the way
she holds a cigarette
lazy between *******
and the impish half-smile
that says everything perhaps
and perhaps nothing
a Picasso masterpiece
but it's only lips
it's only the girl
they all call Alaska
a walking storm in flip-flops
from room forty-eight

the static we have
simmers upon my tongue
or is it just Mountain Dew

words belonging to Vonnegut
drop from the leaves
sparkle like drizzle
and kiss every clover
good evening goodnight
goodbye

I have plunged into her pool
of wine and waterlogged literature
I see it I know it I want
to take a drag of her
glide inside her nirvana
hear her smile
with a crush of emeralds
wild in my eyes
a throb of electricity
that rockets through
my crooked veins
and I want a taste
as if squeezing a lemon
and the sugar cascades
liquor-like down my throat
straight and fast
to the last frontier

I see a chain of daisies
gush from her chest
crash at her feet
to be continued
I hope I hope
a phone is ringing
what country is calling?
is it where her vanilla whisper
leaves me wondrously numb?
a fuzzy echo hums
inside my ears
I ask is it over?
Is it done?

and then ****
I'm awake
and her name
has vanished
as fast as a ghost
disintegrated
like the cigarette she held
lazy between *******.

Written: June 2015.
Explanation: This poem is unlike almost anything I have written before. This piece is about the character Alaska Young, from John Green’s novel ‘Looking For Alaska.’ Recently, I read the story for the first time and really liked Alaska - her mystery, her personality etc, and I decided to write a poem about her (sort of) from the viewpoint of the male protagonist Miles (aka Pudge).
The poem contains many references to parts of the story: Alaska smokes, mahogany hair, blue toenails, a half-smile, the Picasso reference, the flip-flops, room forty-eight, Mountain Dew, Vonnegut, drizzle, the clover, wine, waterlogged literature, eyes like emeralds, the use of the word ‘crooked’, the lemon, daisies, vanilla (relating to her smell in the book), and the words ‘****’, ‘ghost’ and ‘disintegrated.’
The title also stems straight from a part in the book, while ‘the last frontier’ is the state nickname of Alaska. She is described as a hurricane in the novel, but this becomes a ‘storm’ in my writing. The phrase ‘The Great Perhaps’ is mentioned in Green’s novel a few times; I just shorten it to ‘perhaps.’
John Green states a line in the song ‘Stephanie Says’ by The Velvet Underground made him choose the name Alaska. ‘people all call her Alaska’ becomes ‘only the girl / they all call Alaska’ in the poem. ‘what country shall I say is calling?’ becomes ‘what country is calling?’ in the poem too.
Hopefully those who have not read the book will still enjoy the poem. It is unusual for me to write a piece about a fictional character in a real novel/TV show/movie.
All feedback is very welcome as always.
NOTE: A week after this poem was uploaded, rumours began circulating that Looking For Alaska would be made into a movie next year.
Also note that many of my older poems will be removed from HP in the coming months.

Jun 2015 Mari

Dawn and Dusk

Jun 2015 Mari

Astrid Ember

Dawn and Dusk

We're creatures of
dusk. Creatures of dawn
with our skin embedded
with snowflakes.
Your face perfected
so you don't melt
deep in your core
under all the pressure.

There are crows
with necks as broken
as all of your promises
lying in your collar bones.
Secrets kept in your lungs.
Taking up so much space
and rotting so completely
the doctors have called
them tumors.

I fell in love with a knight
who collects kisses
and shared beds with our
kind.
My ways of excitement
got old. So he went in
search of your ice covered
lungs, skin being eaten alive
like his.

You weren't ensnared on his
sharp teeth like I was.
He chewed me up,
but on the attempt to spit
me out my hood got caught
on his canine teeth.
I got lost in the woods.
Found the carcass of
a fox while he got lost in
your purple hair and your
firework display burned
into his memory.

It started off me disliking you.
Then your French Angelfish
looks that caught his attention
attracted mine.
  With your whispers in my
  ear, finger twisted bridges,
  connecting a world I never
  thought would of existed.
  Planting seeds on my lips,
  watering them with your
  spit, I can't stay away.

I burn like a wildfire
and you pop like a fire *******.
Dusk and dawn
being two different worlds tied
together like our tongues.

  My knight has a noose around
  my neck as I jump off
  a cliff for you.
   But for right now we
   exist like a Mayan civilization.
   Knowledge never touching
   the present, but brushing it.
   So great it's been forbidden.

But us creatures you see,
our blood runs backwards
and our eyes dilate at the
scent of danger.
  Adrenaline, our ******
  IV's pumping it into our
  artery's.
We've never been the kind
for reading warning signs.

   We sway on tight ropes
   giggling at our lost balance.

Forbidden isn't in our vocabulary,
our two different worlds touch.

   A supernova in the twilight.
   We are an astronomers dream.
   Take me to Mars.
   I'll teach you how to moan
   "Astrid" so that Pluto can hear
   the echo of dawn and dusk
   colliding like the whole nation felt
   the twin towers falling.

Ugh. She's so beautiful but she's in love with someone else.