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Jagged green talons,
shoot through gold dust,
marred only by the glimmer
of the mid day solstice.

Curving misty granules
Mask temperamental land:
Tracing paper haze
Swirls of glistening sand.

Bending hills blend
Precious pallid dust
With one layer of
Whipping wind.

Your blustered footprint
Get's carried away;
Bullied by nature's
Ethereal motion.

You’ve walked for miles
Dry and lagging among
Miniature valleys of Earth's
Smoothest round stalactite.

Hear the luscious,
Climactic ocean breeze
Speak salty psalms, from
Deepest blue parchment.

The serrated cliff-face
Positioned between
The vast curvature
of the sea and dunes.

Dogtooth black vertigo
With specks of white refrain,
Which drip back down
To the tenacity of the waves

As tides rise, patience falls.
Worn away, smooth again
As a brief, conjugative
Swill of realisation

Washes out lifes impurities
Cleansing boredom into
Calm; see a metropolis
Submerge in the tide.

The landmarks and history
Are but bricks, mortar
And washed up stories
Which float away to sea.
 Aug 2015 Chuck
Aeerdna
A memory
 Aug 2015 Chuck
Aeerdna
The walls around me are still breathing
the smoke of your last cigar.
I remember how you used to
let me wrap you around my fingers
like a velvet ring
and the way you were staring
into me
while I was braiding your hair
with the sky, the ground
and the sea.


I remember it was
the last day on Earth
of our embrace.
 Aug 2015 Chuck
Ashley Lang
"My son didn't deserve it. Nobody's child deserves to be treated like that - nobody's.” – Lesley McSpadden

How can we continue to
allow innocent lives
to be lost to gunshots,
the “lawful” judicial system,
and the officers that
“fear for their lives”?

When will we rescue the
312 Americans
(who happen to be *black
)
who will die this year
at the hands of those
hired to protect them?

Can we save the 2.8 million in cages
or the shadows that lie along
the pavements and
cling against hope?

Or can we prevent more teens
from falling flat onto
Earth’s face while silhouettes
rise from it?

How can a cop fear an unarmed
American? Was it because he
was black?

*“He was just a normal
18-year-old, finding his way."
Thematic Poem #1 of my senior year #BlackLivesMatter
 Aug 2015 Chuck
moss
If I had to guess on what I've seen
I'm not too sure that she likes me
I've played the game, I know it well
But with this girl it's hard to tell

If I could talk to just anyone
Then talking to him would be fun
He seems funny, he seems so nice
I only need to break the ice


I'm afraid of what she might say
If I give too much of myself away
If she thinks me another man
Will she like me for who I am

When conversing, he seems so closed
Almost as if he is trying to pose
Wondering what he is hiding
I conclude that it's dividing


With her style and class she is far above me
Afraid to ask if she could ever love me
A girl like her, a boy like me
I have my wants, she is my need*

With his depth and thought he's far away from me
Afraid to wonder if he could know me
A mind like his, a fool like me
My longing for him is decreed
 Aug 2015 Chuck
taylor
waiting II
 Aug 2015 Chuck
taylor
i wish she knew
how much i need her
to see me,
and let me in.
i wish i could show her
how much good
us being together would be
but she refuses to listen
i wish she understood
i don't want to be mean,
or seem needy, i'm not..
she made me
i wish i didn't have to
but i'll keep waiting for her
until she gives up
and let's me win.
part 2. his side.
 Aug 2015 Chuck
K Mae
death upon us
 Aug 2015 Chuck
K Mae
the fact of his leaving
not understood, but surely no mistake
one more eddy in the sad river
one brother less
we are left being what he could not be
journey unsolved
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