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We live on the edge.
Our soul is the

CENTER

~~~

10W
Soul Survivor
We don't want to
"grow"
too far from our
beginnings.
 Mar 2014 Mad Jones
Mikaila
It is far easier to love someone all alone than to try to get them to receive it.
It is also much less fulfilling.
I try never to rest, never to retreat into myself
And let the love become more important than the giving of it to the person it's for,
But... I understand people who worship at churches.
They are not always worshiping God.
They are simply loving in the safest way possible.
They are writing love letters
On their pressed palms
To someone who can never, ever read them,
And what a relief it must be to know that.
What a comfort it must be to give love to an idea,
And so never have it handed back to you,
Unused, unwanted,
Like an unopened love letter with the postage still stuck on the envelope.
Yes, this is a serious poem... I just... I couldn't leave the Harry Potter reference out... Once it came to me, it had to be the title. Call it black humor. Or just outright geekiness.
... when Your world's
In a cardboard box

It tastes like packing peanuts.
Just not inspired tonight.
 Mar 2014 Mad Jones
ak
bodies bustling forth and back
shouting and laughing
eyes closed
letting the crowd keep you moving
every so often you will be lost
but good lost
and with the flashing lights
like a million pictures being taken in a row
everybody's form changes and distorts around me
strong arms and backs pushing me between them
no one really enjoying themselves
but just pretending to be happy
Sleep on me like memory foam
never forget like September eleven
snow flurries are the forecast today
with a little bit of hopelessness
a new nasa study which I read on facebook suggests
that modern civilization will crumble upon itself within the next two decades
so the cold wind blows across the dusty plains
and the litter strewn streets rest easily like guerrilla militants
pay homage to the blazing skies
another day waiting for the bite to come
another day praying like mad men
the nostalgic characters we created are haunting us
we are all being called home
supper is getting cold
and we are all in need of a solid night’s sleep
before what is to come
 Mar 2014 Mad Jones
Theia Gwen
Love should come with a warning label
Telling us to look before we fall
Reminding us there might be no one to catch us
Before we risk it all
Love has many side effects
Not being able to think clearly,
Drawing hearts in notebooks,
An increase in insecurity
Love is an addicting drug
That should be used with caution
Love can mess with your health
It can make you obsessive and compulsive
The most dangerous think about love however
Is when you finally find your Romeo
You'll never know if his love is true
Or if you received a placebo
 Mar 2014 Mad Jones
Nat Lipstadt
woven and webbed in but words,
our profits are handsome,
kindness, tenderness,
the gold coins minted internal,
that
overflow up above from
deeply hidden,
earthen-vaulted,
unchambered hearts

sovereign wealth sharing,
one country of two,
income equality,
now worded beyond just two mortals,
t'is my duty charged
and discharged,
to both hide~disguise and
expose,
how the treasure grows

alpha-bet oxygen-increased,
ever larger,
for now,
the cellular-total
the divided parts,
far exceed the original whole

these profits,
are but the
gotten gains
of mere dreamers,
that the night sweeper
shall remove, replace

scheduled near midnight,
easy taken, like daily dust
once fallen, and now used,
no longer available,
for writing poems
on the floor

but the atmosphere be
nugget laden, bejeweled motes,
freshly fallen dew to drink,
snow to inscribe with ungloved fingertips,
fresh foolscap,
upon to decorate
with letters of many tongues
new letters rearranged,
the dreamt profits
of which
are only realized
when shared
nakasama kita kahit sa panaginip lamang...
The wait
massages my soul
as I become still.
My breathing
finds a cadence
like a monk in meditation.  

In my dream
you pose for me
as your tongue
licks nectar
from petunia buds.  

I conjure
florescent shades
unlike those
any artist
can splash
on canvas.  

The wait for you
is as near to heaven
as I fathom
I will get
while here on earth.
I don't remember if I wrote this after waiting for a hummingbird to come in range of my camera or if I was awaiting my love to return home to me.
My roommate is vacuuming the apartment
I'm thinking about distances
past to present,
empty to overflowing,
shattered to whole
doctor your wounds are bleeding again
and I don't have the proper training
we toil and toil beneath the gaze of an oblivion
too much sweat on the brow to take the time to ask why
my heart is a runaway train
my brain the penny on the tracks
there's no such thing as non-civilian casualties
hungry is as hungry does
it's just the nature of these lives
our carrot on a string
I thought I caught a taste once
only to bite my own finger
It hurts, but the pain is just motivation
to keep on living
and all of those lessons and truths
she whispered in your ear on dreaming nights
are still the reason your heart beats the way it now does
wake the hell up
perfect does not exist
and you are going to be fine
fix the roof
you are going to be fine
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