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 Apr 2014 Alireza Zibaie
ryan
I love it, the magic.
How the words, the ******* words --
have a rhythm of their own.
It's like the syllables, have dots and stems;
the punctuation, a rest marker. Beats
and sounds and music but not
quite music. 'Cause if it was music
it wouldn't be called a poem.

It's why I write. Her, yes. But the Words?
Oh the words. Just pause, for every comma.
Stop, for every period. Read it. Hear it
and let it breathe in your ear like
I let Her do. It doesn't always have to
be raw emotion.
Sometimes. Just -- sometimes.
It's enough to let the words,
be all the subject,
we ever need.
 Apr 2014 Alireza Zibaie
Ciara
I have realized
My existence is absolutely necessary.
The world needs people like me.
I am a nurturer, I care too much, I am a lover, a fighter.
I'm strong, yet sensitive.
I am smart, inquisitive, loving, and people need me.
But the thing is... I ******* hate myself.
I do not always want to live. I am self destructive. Most of the time I do not want to exist.

But just in this moment, at 12:52 in the morning, on a Monday, I have realized
That the world needs me.
The world needs you, too, darling dear. <3
open skies
love birds fly off
on the mind
empty tree branch
where we sat under



(C)2014, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
I will never forget your ugly face,
I'll grow sleepless at night in your disgrace,
At what measure do you think my hatred ends?
I want your pulse to race, quicken,
I want your insides to explode and infect,
I want to be the one to dissect,
I need to feel and see your lament,
You'll ******* boot you ******* insect.
We like to be in peace
Lies disrupts the timeline of human beasts
Sending you to decision making feats
Making you think of an unchangeable decision
Life is full of actions requiring a question
Answers and choices
Whichever path you choose might leave you exploited
Everybody has a weakness, which might lead to stress
Emotionless people take advantage of any weakness
How a friend can save a life
Your best friend can destroy your life
Even though police are on the frontline
Some can create the stealth crime
Leaving so many people blinded with a fine
Who is that voice we found solace to confide in
He was tortured
and humilated
for me

He was hung on the cross
while people screamed hurtful things
for me

He rose from the dead
and from Satin he took the key
for me

He broke chains for me
made a path that I can see
A path that lead to heaven
he did that, for me

Jesus died for me
Don’t become a writer
You will write down how their eyes twinkled
Or the way they said your name
You will describe how their touch felt upon your bare skin
You will write down the details of your first kiss
How the sky was painted pink and purple
How the wind danced through trees
How the world faded from view
Don’t become a writer
Because their memory will live on through words you write
And when they’re gone
They’re still telling you how to write
I'm as transient as pollen today
but yesterday I was just floating like a gossamer
watching the wind blow seeds off of dandelions
and the daylight drum on the daffodils

white water lilies in my bedroom and cool jasmine at my window
the perfumed petals seeping into my psyche
no, I don't love you dearest
I only love the cloudless sky
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