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 Jan 2012 Cara D
Shukorina
There is this idea.
One that lingers through the people it wants to reach.
A concept that wants to grip you.
I attempt to wrap myself around it,
clinging to the lack of clarity.
Hoping for what I want it to be.
It slithers through my fingers
leaving only the residue to show
that I never really had a chance.
You want faith? Then you work for it,”
It said with a thunderous roar.
I hear the words but still don’t comprehend them.
The thought taunts me with its mystery,
I yearn to know it,
feel it.
While it constantly surrounds me,
I can never pull it close.
As figures fade to ghosts
I look towards the sky,
its before I can cage my words
they escape into no man’s land
with this vengeangful cry!
God! why am I the only one who can’t feel you!”
 Jan 2012 Cara D
Edgar Allan Poe
Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
  Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
  Vulture, whose wings are dull realities
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
  Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
  Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing!
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car?
  And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
  Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?
 Jan 2012 Cara D
H.P. Lovecraft
Eternal brood the shadows on this ground,
Dreaming of centuries that have gone before;
Great elms rise solemnly by slab and mound,
Arched high above a hidden world of yore.
Round all the scene a light of memory plays,
And dead leaves whisper of departed days,
Longing for sights and sounds that are no more.

Lonely and sad, a specter glides along
Aisles where of old his living footsteps fell;
No common glance discerns him, though his song
Peals down through time with a mysterious spell.
Only the few who sorcery's secret know,
Espy amidst these tombs the shade of Poe.
 Jan 2012 Cara D
Sara L Russell
Passiflora Petals flank my pillow,
Valerian's the pollen on my brow,
My thought flies where night clouds rise and billow,
and dream-ships sail with angels at the bow.

Marigold has deepened into nightshade,
twilight falls where nothing moves or sings,
twisted shadows flicker on the light shade,
Sleep Angel comes, on poppy-tinted wings.

Running water changes into voices,
stairs yield to the footfalls of the dead,
helpless sleep is running out of choices,
Sleep Angel wraps her wings around the bed.

Curtains stare with eyes that once were flowers
till their colours deepened into grey;
restless visions haunt the starlit hours,
Sleep Angel will chase them all away.
I am the other
Under the painted sky
Where I am invisible
Even in the rays of the sun

I am the other
That waits in the riverbanks
Scooping memories with my hands
And draw your feet walking behind me

I am the other
Dipping into your waters
And in the ripples of your memory
I begin to fade

I am the other
Who wishes upon the stars
To fly me to another world
Where you and I

Can no longer be the other.
 Jan 2012 Cara D
Elizabeth Smart
Flowers aren't choosy
Which bee which bug
Come one come all.

Bees and bugs
Aren't choosy either
All entries sweetly natural.

Imagine a flower
Closing its throat
Against a bee it thought a bore.

Who said object
Should excite act
That that was moral?

If only the verb
The act acts,
Why call your sister a *****?

Sin and shame!
Abandon the word
Moral. You can see it's immoral.
 Jan 2012 Cara D
Jordon Jones
I bend words to my will
                                           with ease.
I coax them into               shapes-       and       -phrases
                                                        that are pleasing unto
                         the-ear&the-eye;
I twist them until
              they suit    what I want
                                 and then      I set them

               free
 Jan 2012 Cara D
Kayleigh Redwine
To the end of the earth, we tread.
A million miles pressed into our feet.
It ends here, where you rest your head,
weary and worn with defeat.

This landscape challenges all sanity.
Against the rocks, an intrinsic glare.
This is the end of all humanity
where your weight is mine to bear.
© Kayleigh Redwine January 10th, 2011
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