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Aion Maaka Aug 2020
Upon wings of fancy, we gain strength to soar

New heights are found from power given

For in this love there is strength that gathers
and holds thy wings spread

The darkness that creeps and pulls at feet as the sense of loss sears from above

Just remember that love is eternal, a power gifted forever

With each memory you have, you're gifted again

To steer through any stormed weather

Once you break free, and that you surely will

That gift shall remain, as love does, forever, as your gilded feathers
  Dec 2017 Aion Maaka
Pearson Bolt
i want my poems to have teeth.  
i want my words to cut,
to maim, to bleed.
with verses, i will raze
empires. with stanzas,
i will turn thrones to dust.
with nothing but a bit
of silver on my tongue,
i will take the life of god.

i’ll ply that same *****
like honey, taste the sweet
nothings dripping
between knocking knees.
quake and quiver for me,
let me slip, furtive
as nightshade
to sate your curiosity.

feel the weight of veracity
in these fingers patiently
transcribing forgotten melodies,
compressing ivory keys
to sing of all that was lost
and what was gained
from the process.
An ode to words given form.
  Aug 2015 Aion Maaka
DaSH the Hopeful
I've been looking for you all around

I can't find you in old photographs
And sometimes I can't reach you by phone
    But when I look in the mirror and see my smile

*I know I've found you
  Aug 2015 Aion Maaka
Aditi Kumar
I want my words to be beautiful.
Beautiful like yours.
I want to see ordinary things,
Find the magic in them,
And put the magic on a page, for everyone to understand.

I want to have a way with words.
I want every poem of mine
To become a masterpiece.
Just like yours.

I am not broken.

But you are.

You see the world through pain,
And pain makes the colors brighter.
It makes the value of feelings
Climb higher.

Sometimes I wonder
If I should be broken like you
If I want my words to resonate
Like yours.

Sometimes I wonder,
If it will be truly worth it
In the end.

I wonder what it will be like,
To cut myself up to pour out the beauty inside me.

Just like you.

I imagine that you
Raise the blade
Slice your feelings open
And write your masterpiece
In red.
Can only sad people write good poems? Can only broken people find inspiration in anything?
  Aug 2015 Aion Maaka
Love
I'm the *****,
the quiet girl in the front of the class,
according to the handicap stall in the upstairs boys bathroom, a ****.
I love, and when I do I love to no ends.
But you'd never know how much this ***** loves, because there is no love shown.

— The End —