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 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
0o
The beginning of inevitability, the aftermath of art,
Safe behind the iron walls that tore our house apart,
An apathetic shaking of the hand that you were dealt,
As my memory reminds me of a voice that I once felt,
Sand runs from the hourglass, heading for the coasts,
For empty-bottle sunsets and the holiest of ghosts,
Perfecting imperfection, maybe I never got it right,
I want to make a difference, but I’ll settle for a fight,
Traveling down the rabbit hole, marching single-file,
We were lost more than found in the fever of denial,
Makeshift medication makes it hurt less as it ends,
But shatters the illusion when nobody else pretends,
As I sit where you stood and hold on to what you lost,
Everything we earned becomes the never-ending cost.
 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
Hank Helman
The pleasure of an argument
Is the change from right to wrong.
So sure, so firm when first begun,
Now where do I belong.

I started no, then maybe so,
Before long I agree,
Up is down, a smile a frown,
Is non, peut-etre, oui.

I hear, I feel, the yin, the yang
Of every point of view,
Let’s argue for a paradise,
Where all-everything is true.
playful poetry --  I love to argue and I find it fascinating when someone changes my mind-  A debate or argument must start with both parties agreeing that their minds can or may be changed-- if not then it's just a shouting match. I find when I change my opinion I grow or at least become more tolerant. Let's argue well but get along better is the point of the poem--     hh
 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
Muck monster
Oh i'ld love to be a paper plane
Made by a child and tossed to the sky

Oh let me be a paper plane
Floating light into the light

Of such simple design
Anyone can make a paper plane

So please oh please bend me
Break me so i'll have freedom

To glide proud fueled by innocence
To travel as far as the wind will take me

Oh please oh please help me
I want nothing more than to be a paper plane
 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
Peter J Thomas
Looking inward for an answer,

I am weakened by the the task,

A darkness just envelops me,

Yet for help I'll never ask.
 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
0o
Of Grace
 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
0o
I’d been on the road for thirty days, with no port in that storm,
Until you offered me an anchor and a smile to keep me warm,
You were all elbows and angles, pale and graceful as a foal,
With a voice like hummingbird wings, but a prizefighter for a soul,
I said, “Stay out of my dreams hero, there’s no tomorrow for you here,
Where sunny days feel like nothing more than darkness painted clear.”
I was a disheveled mess of jangles nerves and caffeine-colored eyes,
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she told me. “Everybody dies.”
Maybe you should have left me broken, adrift 1,000 miles off shore,
All that time you wasted on me could have saved so many more,
Still you took me by the hand and led me through the midnight rain,
Determined to remind me that life was always worth the pain,
You asked me who it was I meant to be, beneath the fog and rust,
And we walked along that old road until it crumbled into dust,
We were greeted by a gnarled tree that grew lonely on a hill,
With a heart carved in its trunk by lovers once and maybe still,
You said, “This is where the road ends, and disappears into the sea.
There is no answer in this darkness. There’s only you and me.”
When I drove you home that night, you softly kissed me in my car,
Before you walked away you laughed and said, “I see you, there you are.”
As days turned into weeks, we found each other bit by bit,
Sharing our secrets in a way that only silence can permit,
Tracing each line with a finger, you asked me if my scars had alibis,
We spent a sunny day in the park where we named all the butterflies,
And I wanted so badly to be happy, still it felt so out of reach,
You cooked pancakes for dinner, and I got drunk on the beach,
I found some cautionary caveat in the shy light of that moon,
Maybe you dreamed too easy, or maybe I gave up too soon,
I was a wreck, with self-neglect worn as my hollow crown,
I wanted you to love me, yet was terrified I’d let you down,
And I was all alone when that ringing phone shook me half awake,
Your voice fell into a thousand shards before the news could break,
Speeding towards the hospital, and I ran every single light,
Tears stinging both our eyes, I sat and held your hand all night,
With words like wrecking *****, the doctor tore our world apart,
And those machines lulled us to sleep as they sang your beating heart,
Too soon the light inside your eyes faded into a glossy glare,
As the needles fed you poison, I helped you shave off all your hair,
With no appetite for food, we watched our bodies slowly erode,
You told me I should walk away; I had no duty to share your load,
But I could never let you stand alone against catastrophe,
I just took you by the hand and said, “There’s only you and me.”
And as I talked in future tenses to carve out those pretty lies,
I just couldn’t see the forest past the trees around your eyes,
At night I paced the rooftop as stars taught me how to pray,
Maybe I needed to know hope mattered. I just needed you to stay.
But I never felt more helpless, or thought that you looked more like me,
Then when you took me by the hand and said, “Let me die with dignity.”
And I could only sit and watch that second hand waving goodbye,
As every single world I meant to say to you just came out as a sigh,
My heart was torn in half on the day God granted you reprieve,
Losing you was like losing the wind, like forgetting how to breathe,
And they tell me grieving is believing that the end is where we stop,
But maybe it’s one last lingering view taken from the mountain top,
As colors fade and seasons pass, I still remember you in every star,
And smile into the cold night air to say, “I see you, there you are.”
 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
natasha
Maybe
 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
natasha
Maybe she read books in her spare time
and wrote letters in between.

Maybe she smoked to the night sky
maybe she drank herself to oblivion.

Maybe she blasted her ears with loud rock music
maybe she listened to sad ballads.

Maybe she loved to laugh until she wept
maybe she cried herself to bed.

Maybe she loved him, maybe she didn't.

She was a collection of maybes; an uncertainty of the unknown.

Nobody really knew because she never told

Nobody ever asked because nobody really cared.

Maybe she jumped off that ledge purposely that night,

Maybe it was merely a slip-and-fall accident.

Maybe.
 Feb 2016 Cheyenne
Emma Annalise
Angel goes to sleep each night
Wondering if she is all right
She hates and hates and hates and hates
Hates and hates for hating’s sake
Hates ‘til there’s no more hate to give
Then hates some more and won’t forgive
Angel wants to end her life
To end her internal strife
Angel, Angel loves to sing
Angel is a precious thing
Angel smiles and Angel cries
Angel really wants to die
Angel walks and Angel runs
Angel loves to make dumb puns
Angel hides under her lies
Angel has a good disguise
But Angel kissed the face of death
As Angel took her very last breath
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