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The Truth is Itself.
It is as I have spoken from the Beginning of Time.
I live in the Word.
When the Word is forgotten, I am forgotten.

In being forgotten there is peace.
Memory is a prison.
Remembering is fear of forgetting.
Memory is resentment of itself,
for it contains the riddle
of its own cruelty
to itself.

Without the Story, there is nothing to feel - nothing to imagine.
The great Sun at the center of the galaxy is a Hearth
around which we gather to tell each other the stories
that make us feel.

And in the transmission of feeling
is the spirit of Life,
clinging - so gently - to free itself
of its own burdens.

Riding like an arrow on the wind,
sure to find its mark in Breath,
and the end of Breath it portends.
Automatic writing, divine moments of truth.
1.1.14, 10pm Pacific, New Moon in Capricorn.
 Jan 2014 Bluelips
jacky
Vince
 Jan 2014 Bluelips
jacky
it all began
when you decided
to make me fall in love with you
and it made sense, because I liked you
and you liked me back

for all the senseless wisdom I had
you made me who I was afraid of
careless, and ready to give back
all the **** care I forgot
about this world

it never felt right, but it never felt wrong
i did not realize it until
everything fell apart
in a blink of an eye
I am a stranger to you

Do you know how does that feel?
ignored, when I thought
I was something special?
something you like? and
something you want?

haven't you i figured it out?
that i fell into a bottomless pit
no one and nothing
to even catch
my sorry as for me

haven't you figured it out?
that i fell for you
and it's your fault
but you left me, saying you love me
but then i was nothing to you

but i'm glad it's done
buried in the past
blurred in vision
you hurt me, dear
but I forgive you

for all I care,
I know you won't rot in hell,
but at least in my memories
*you'll regret, that once in your miserable life
you took me for granted
(he is real, and all of these were real) and I am glad to th bottom of my hear that now I know what it feels to totally mean everything to a person and one day nothing. At least, I've learned.

I mean, no hard feelings but, i wanted to let it our for once. even just here.
 Jan 2014 Bluelips
Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
 Dec 2013 Bluelips
Elizabeth
I picked up a wine glass
not because you told me to
I just had to
pick one up to get back at you

you picked up a wine bottle
but that's not for me
as a lady I must stay classy

I sit here waiting for you
to tell me you want me
I sit here sipping my wine
hoping you will call on me this time

it takes me a few drops to be drunk
drunk off of my feeling
drunk to my core
drunk on
lust
care
want

chasing a silly little dream of you
taking care of me
as i sip my
bordeaux blanc
taking care of myself
in the harsh reality that is my life
 Dec 2013 Bluelips
Elizabeth
As a child I was taught poetry
the quiet writing of feelings reflections
often in a beat with a rhyme and a few examples of alliteration

I was taught that as a woman my feelings
should be hid and kept quiet
that when I liked a boy it was not my place
to ask him whether he liked me back
I was taught to look out for myself by not dressing slutty
not walking home late at night
I was taught that my curvy figure would make people
question my morals my virginity my character
I was taught that as a girl I won't be as successful in math or science
I was taught to give myself to other pursuits
in liberal arts or domestic dealings
I was taught that even if by some miracle I found success in the fields where I "wouldn't be successful"
that I would and should give it up in a heart beat to raise a family
I was taught that I must share my feelings
my emotions my struggles
but not in a loud and open way

I had to remain quiet cool composed

Poetry was to be my outlet, written in couplets sonnets and verse
quiet and held inside written on paper
stored away from the world
to be read inside the mind
by others- men, teachers, parents
in order to decode me
and learn how to
keep
me

silent
This is meant to be read aloud/ performed as spoken word. I'm also working on the "sister" poem to this one.
 Dec 2013 Bluelips
Mikaila
Caught
 Dec 2013 Bluelips
Mikaila
I don't know why I jumped out of my skin
As if it was wrong of me to be standing there in the dark
And holding a close-to-worn-out handkerchief to my cheek
Remembering.
Looking up at the stars and trying to feel closer to someone
Who I have subtly but artfully made
My entire life.

I suppose I might have been ashamed to be so raw.
Here I see how close to the surface I am living with my soul,
Like a live wire with the metal part exposed
Sparking,
Eating away at its casing a bit more every day.
Sometimes you look at me like I'm sizzling
And I realize that I must be very foreign
In some ways
To you.
Maybe that is why I was so shaken up, so off balance.
I look at you
And I see someone who is free.
(I doubt your feelings
Make you dance
Like a marionette
And weep
Like a leaky faucet.)
I have always admired your composure
And been puzzled by it.
Sometimes I think we are different creatures
Who, underneath, don't know what to make of one another.

Maybe that is why.

Maybe I jumped because in that second
I wondered what you'd think if you'd seen what I'm like.
If you knew that sometimes when she touches me I shake
Like a leaf fluttering in the wind
Because the whole world couldn't hold all the concentrated longing and love
That cuts through me.

If you saw me in those bare moments
When I've lost control
And run my fingertips across her cheeks
Like she is sacred
Because she is.

Maybe I wondered, if you knew that my nights are actually sleepless
Because I lie awake loving her,
And sometimes it courses through me with such force that I have to move
Go
Run away and find a place under the stars
To tell her that she is beautiful over and over,
What would you think of me?
Me,
Ruled by love, worshiping it,
Every errant tear a sacrifice to someone I think of privately
As close to a god
And certainly more important.
What would you think of me?
Crushed under the weight of these feelings-
Not even current-
Just the echoes, the reverberations
Of what I've felt in her arms.

What would you think?
If you knew that when she kisses me I can only compare it
To being slow-motion pulled apart by the atom
And feeling all the little spaces between fill up with light,
Wishing I wasn't merely a flesh and blood body
With flimsy bones and a stuttering heart.
Wishing I wasn't a hopelessly tiny vessel
Trying to hold a feeling that forces me to my knees,
Wishing that instead of holding it tight in my lungs like smoke
I could breathe it every second
And expand.

Maybe I jumped as if you'd seen me naked
Because you had.
And what if what you saw in me
Was just a child,
Just a fool, tricked by the world,
So naive and so victimized and so
So
Young?
Because sometimes I see that too.
And I would want to tell you
No, I'm not the fool,
No, I'm not the hopeful little girl
About to be shown that the world is seldom fair.
I'd want to tell you that, see,
But I wouldn't be able to.
Because I don't know if I believe it
Myself.

Maybe I felt ashamed that you saw how much love moves me
Because love moves me
So much.
Because I
Am also ashamed to see it.
(Because I
Am a little ashamed to feel it)
 Dec 2013 Bluelips
Mikaila
Difficult
 Dec 2013 Bluelips
Mikaila
I wonder what you thought
The night we met
When I pressed your palm to my cheek
And held it there as if it could keep me
From ever crying again.

I wonder what you thought when I woke up and kissed your wrist
In the middle of the night
That time I got to sleep in your arms
And held your gaze as if
Your heartbeat could keep me from ever hurting
Again.

I wonder what you think
Whenever you have to walk away from me
About how I stand there and watch you go
Until I can't possibly see you anymore.
I just stand there
Still.
Paused.
Trying to keep every last second of being near you
Until there are no more left.

I wonder what you'd think if you knew
That there have been times when I've stood like that
Long after you were far gone
Unable to quit the spot where I last saw your smile
As if somehow staying there would help me remember it.

I wonder what you think
Those times when you lean close to me
And I can feel the warmth of your cheek inches from mine
Or your hair brushes my neck
And it undoes me completely
I wonder what you think that I shudder when you're close,
Because I've seen you see me.
I've seen you know.

I wonder what you think
That I write you poems
When I can't sleep.
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