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Just another morning,
just another day.
Drag myself to the sink,
splash some water on my face.

Sometimes I look down,
at my trembling hands.
I want to wash them clean,
but I can't.
The stains are too deep,
skin like sand.

I work in a cubicle,
nine to five every week.
I come home to a wife and kids,
who don't understand me.

And every single night,
right before I go to bed,
I pray that these demons,
will leave my head.
Somethings that I've done,
are better left dead.

I feel the knife inside me,
twisting and digging in.
It's serrated edges tearing,
at the flesh and skin.

I feel the bullets sinking,
into my broken heart.
Sometimes it's easier,
to just hit restart.
I wish this world would realize,
war is hard.

I wish this world would realize,
war is hard,
on a heart,
now torn apart.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Lines like luscious lips
That twist and tangle around my mind
Kissing my senses and igniting my inspirations
I play with your words
Day and night and fight my loneliness
My greatest strife
Fantasies tantalize the lids of my eyes
The stories
The raw emotions
Oh how I love the  poets
 Feb 2014 Carmen Galore
Evynne
Love in an open hand
Free
Unhidden
And I am drowning in it
 Feb 2014 Carmen Galore
K603
Are we alive?
Who's to say that we are not dead,
that there maybe life in our coming death.
What life is on going
never to end.
So in keeping track of the years of our lives
are we really just waiting to live?
 Feb 2014 Carmen Galore
AJ
Stupid white girl.
We are not allowed to do anything.
We're prim and proper, white girls.
We are not allowed to fight back.
Put us in our place, white girls.
We are not allowed real work.
We still want our twenty three cents back.

The child of fair skin and blue eyes.
But with all my female privilege,
Came a nasty stamp on my body.
Like a watermark.
FEMALE.
I have heard that when a woman looks in the mirror, she sees a woman.
But when a man looks in the mirror, he sees a human.

Even with that watermark, our pale skin is used as a canvas.
And everyone else has been handed the tools to color in our curves.
Covering us in blue and black and purple and red.
Redrawing our minds so they cannot process the discrimination,
Painting over our tears so our feelings can be buried,
Manufacturing open legs when you want them,
Closed when you don't.
Erasing the lips we use to speak out,
Erasing the eyes we use to see all of this.

You think just because you held the brush,
Just because you created this monstrosity of a "masterpiece"
You get to claim ownership of this piece of artwork
That you blatantly disregard
Is my BODY.

The "fe" you tack onto "male"
Does not stand for Free Entry.
The "wo" you tack onto "man"
Does not stand for Wipe Out.

Women are barely able hold a pencil.
I was lucky to hold one long enough to draw myself
A conscience, a backbone, legs to stand on, and a mind.
We were only taught how to use the back end of that pencil
To erase our mouth and keep the secrets.
But these days the secrets are keeping themselves.

I will not be put in a glass case
You will not charge admission
To have people come and analyze me.
Buy me.
Give me value.
Categorize me.
Preserve me the way you created.

You are no artists.
You are vandals.
All the poems I see are sad.
I hit shuffle for the hundredth time,
Hoping not to see the word "gone" or "pain" or "alone."
Once again, I am disappointed.
Yes, I get it.
We turn to poetry when our souls are darkest
To release our insecurities under anonymity
To see the yellow lightning bolt shouting,
"Someone cares!"
Into your darkness.
And this is all right.

But there is also joy in this earth.
There are weird moments when I feel happy
Even though I don't have a boyfriend
And my best friend isn't talking to me
And it's grey and bleak outside.
In these moments of inexplicable happiness,
There is just as much poetry
As there is in the moments
Of inexplicable sorrow.
A dew drenched wild flower
awaiting sun's warmth,
you are naked Venus;
        I clothe you with
transparent cumulus
spun by sparkling-
caresses with my eyes.

As we explore gently first
and then in urgent moves
the ****** alchemy of lips,
you transform in to a nimbus,
heavy with a yen to rain-
your sultry lust over mine.
Wet and swollen we stand
exhilarated to the inner core,
lit with sensual pleasure
on the threshold of losing control.

Then, like in a dream,
a nimbus sweetness envelops me,
lying supine, on a bed of goosebumps.
I receive you and the storm
that lasts till we fall asleep.
Dragons cross the sky

••

Breath of fire
Breath of death



Destroy the world to  set man free

••

••

& the little child

Rides the dragon
Cross the sky

••

Come to destroy the world

In order to be free



Sittin in the diner

Eatin toast
Sipping coffee



Looks up at the burning sky

••

The dragons come to ****

Who is it gonna die?

••

The little child rides

Rides with the dragons
across

The sky

— The End —