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the only things I remember about
New York City
in the summer
are the fire escapes
and how the people go
out on the fire escapes
in the evening
when the sun is setting
on the other side
of the buildings
and some stretch out
and sleep there
while others sit quietly
where it's cool.

and on many
of the window sills
sit pots of geraniums or
planters filled with red
geraniums
and the half-dressed people
rest there
on the fire escapes
and there are
red geraniums
everywhere.

this is really
something to see rather
than to talk about.

it's like a great colorful
and surprising painting
not hanging anywhere
else.
The amount of words
Shared in a stare
Is nearly infinite
Take special care.

Ride the moment
And walk away knowing
Communication
Naturally flowing.

I wasn't prepared
When I embraced your eyes
False, deceitful,
Composed of lies.

Everything I knew
Stripped away
With your emotionless stare
Pools of gray.
 May 2014 Michael W Noland
Lydia
I am showing you my outstretched hand,
Even if you will not take it.
I am pulling you up
Even if you want to be down
I will not do this anymore
You are not my problem anymore
If you fall or fly,
You're on your own
Your words
Hurt me
And you have to understand that
I am a person!
And I deserve a chance
At independent thought
Without your knowledge
And a life without
Your death
On my conscience.
So,
As of now,
You are not my problem anymore.
Please comment :)
Whats with the attitude?
Why do you subtract so?
It doesnt make sense.
No sense at all.

Due to the past,
I feel nothing.
I am not sensitive,
Only specifically.

Get used to it.
I dont love like I did.
Beyond blue eyes.
A pallid mask is hid.
I really hate it when a person, parent or friend becomes an *******.
Darkness.

Laying here, alone
        weary
          empty

I've withdrawn into
deep shadows

I can't see the pain

but your voice,
   your condescending rage
rattles against my cage.

I've never understood
you...I blame the drink
for randomly possessing

your eyes
seeing me as a target.

I don't know what to
expect.
   physical or mental
it's all torment.

I'm sick of walking
on the eggshells which litter
that fabric which we used to
lay on
   together.

Now I hide from you,
   from your demons that can't find me
in my darkness.

Darkness.
This is the 4th piece I wrote for the Anxiety collaboration. It is the darkest of them all. This one shows the progression, or rather, the regression of my mindset as I wrote. My mindset was dark, darker and darkest, and then went back up. I believe the poems I wrote reflect that. If you've read the previous two pieces I wrote for the collaboration, I think you will see it as well.

After I wrote this piece, I knew right away that it would not make the cut. It never had a chance to be the final submission to the artist. But I kept it, as it is part of the journey. If I recall correctly, it was this piece that convinced me I did not want to go really dark for my final piece. And so, this poem taught me a lot...about myself, about my poetry, and about what I wanted to contribute to Nicky's collaboration set.

Once again I urge you to not read too much into the words in relation to myself. I do not feel the emotion as written. But please do read the words knowing that somewhere, somebody feels this. The emotion is real. Maybe we can't relate. But that doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

Rod E. Kok
March 2014
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