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 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Jamie King
The ink smothers papers in unforgiving battles of writers.

Where fame outweighs the need for imagery, the structures aimed to be masterpieces, broken into master pieces.

The imagery lost with the message as words wonder about in disorganized sequences.

The meaning becomes opaque, as perspiration drowns the paper,panicing impatiently your words are flooded in pools of poems, so they fade and drift away, without any views or likes only dismay is displayed.
I've been taking my time not just to read but to study and understand poems in this wonderful site and I was amazed and very sad but we are all troopers and no one should be left behind
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Jamie King
We are young men buried in books
Shoveling words every day
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Ours minds drained deep in the pools
Of knowledge. So they say
We are young men buried in books.

We find ourselves caught in hooks
Of wisdom seekers shall we pray?
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Exhausted, some will turn into crooks
While we proudly remain grey
We are young men buried in books.

We bear fruit of hope from the roots
Of pain so follow the rules we lay
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Are we zombies in schools?
In our paths we never stray.
We are young men buried in books
As we are gradually shaped into tools.
I've never been the one to follow structures when it comes to poetry but when I heard about the villanelle and how difficult it is to master I just got excited and inspired
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
He’s an angel, like me, like his other siblings.
He’s a brother, little brother.
He’s blood, my blood.
He is the youngest,
the weakest, and
the lowest of the combined four.

His flights are lower to Earth,
farther from Heaven.
closer to Hell,
Humans adore him,
his parents spoil him;
Satan sways him.

He turns his back on his worshipers,
backstabs them,
and leaves them to die.
Humans fear they have done something wrong,
they showers him in gifts
they plea for their lives.

I cry as he watches them burn.
I reach out to them,
I am ignored.
More offerings.
More gifts.
More pleas.

I plea,
I kneel,
I kiss their feet, but
our parents are lost in my brother’s spell,
my brother’s trick,
my brother’s façade.

I go to his worshipers,
I warn them of his treachery, and
I am branded as a demon for turning on my blood,
I’m gagged and
I’m silenced,
I’m forced to watch.

His wings are tainted black,
his skin is pulled tight around the bones and from
his joints, spikes emerged.
Small streams of blood fall from his hands
It falls to his people.
It’s treated like rains as they dance in it.

He commands his parents and
He influences his humans.
He is whispered to by Satan.
He flies farther from Heaven,
He grazes the ground of Earth,
He flies in the skies of Hell.

I’m raising an army,
a small rebellion of lost angels and
a band of rebellious humans.
We will take down this demon.
This fallen angel,
This brother.

I will be banished or destroyed.
I will leave with an open mind, a higher flight,
I will know they are safe from him.
My siblings do not abandon me
My humans rally behind me, but
My parents will try to suppress me.

The three of us will be his doom,
his Apocalypse,
his inevitable downfall.
Just as he shows no mercy;
no mercy for his humans,
no mercy shall be given to him.

He is my blood
He is my little brother,
He is my family.
But he is also my greatest enemy  
my wisest foe and
my demon.
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
I bid thee welcome to the masquerade!
T’is a place in which we dance circles around each other,
Dawning a facade.
We dodge, turn, and promenade
All to elude one another
All to trick the other into fraud.
And yet, we still dance.

Fanciful gowns, embroidered in gold!
Shined shoes and a powered nose,
Hidden by thy mask.
Thy game is defunct and old
T’is all concealed by magnificent clothes!
Do not scrape the skin, but in its glow thy must bask.
Be thy wary not to trip on thy skirts.

Secret rendezvous down a dark rue!
A place where a white lie springs
Onto thy heart’s soft flesh - slashed.
"I love you!"
A heart beat faster than the hummingbird's wings.
"Nah, good woman, t’was a feeling long surpassed."
A heart with no beat, imploded and crumbling.

I bid thee adieu from the masquerade!
T'was a place where we danced circles around each other,
And shall closet our facade.
We have dodged, turned, and walked our promenade
All to elude one another
All to trick the other into fraud.
And yet, thy mask never truly retires.
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
I wonder, love, if you see
these stars that hang over me
or if you, so far away,
forget to look up?
My first attempt at a Doditsu poem...
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
Leaves
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
No matter tree strong
Or branch withered and shakey
Leaves must fall alone
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
"It's a shame,"
A mother  says to her daughter,
"that such pretty girls think such dark things."

But there it is --
The very reason why us girls think thoughts so dark:
There is beauty in death.

As soon as we're gone,
People suddenly want us.
Celebrities will pray for the poor young lost soul,
We'll suddenly be beautiful in everyone's eyes --
And everyone will want to be our friend.

Suddenly those bullies want forgiveness,
And your out-of-your-league crush likes you back.

You'll never age -- a constant beauty.
You'll be pure -- negativity buried with your body.
You'll be smart -- the one "with the bright future."

Suddenly we're wanted,
Missed
Mourned
Loved
We've gotten all we've been searching for!
But what good does it do us,
if we'll never feel the suns warmth again?
Never again to catch loose snowflakes,
Or smell the spring dafodils?

If you can bring yourself to never laugh again,
To never kiss again,
To never dream again,
Then it's on you.
But don't tell me you'll go without regret:

Maybe you'd still be alive if someone told you sooner?
Maybe we should stop praising those who take their lives?

~C E Smith
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
Head up, stay strong, fake a smile, move on,
they always said,
No one will see a broken spirit.

They were wrong.

Your eyes saw past it all.

The way your eyes loved my soul
wasn't in vain or vanity.
They didn't see the complex masks
or the pounds of makeup --
Your eyes saw me in all my simplicity.
You dove into the darkness of my eyes
and found this small broken light --
some strange thing you called a *soul.

Your eyes loved that shattered light --
they held it with kind words and soothing embraces.

I felt like The Golden Girl turned inside out:
a face comprised of dullness and imperfection,
a soul of great beauty and grace.
With words, smiles, and touch,
you convinced me to stay in my skin,
but for once in my insipid life,
my soul felt alive and bright.
No longer would I battle the darkness,
no longer would I be afraid of the monsters inside.
Your eyes struck the match that ignited my soul again.
Any tips? I appreciate your feedback.
~C E Smith
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
Lie
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
Lie
Actions speak louder than words,
tell me; should I believe you?
Mouth running, but arms are still...
Disregard the tears,
The actionless claims,
Unless you plan to show me.
 Jan 2015 Tupelo
Carsyn Smith
I am not lips needing paint,
I am powerful words
       screams into a void
       whispers in the crowds
       echoes that find your ear.

I am not bones in a skin sack,
I am a temple
       created from love
       shaped by something greater
       meant for more than ***.

I am not just pretty eyelashes,
I am speaking in silence
       staring down evil
       unflinching towards darkness
       learning from mistakes.

I am not waiting for someone,
I am rescuing myself
       stitching my wounds
       smiling when it hurts
       leading a fallen army.

I am a warrior
       not a damsel

I am strong
       not weak

I am fighting
        not crying

I am changing
        not complaining

I am running
        not waiting

I am not an object
             a gender
             a ***
             a stereotype

I am human
        me
You're more than what the world claims.
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