His heart was old and wounded and scared
It had been broken and bruised
and burned until there was not even ash left
It had dreamt and lost and cried more tears than stars in the sky and prayed to never fall again
To never feel empty and absent
or miserable and abused
and for the death it felt inside to be its quite and final resting place
It clung desperately to the want of never
And then there was her
And colors pulsed in its blood
And dreams were painted on its walls
And her name burned into its skin
Then his heart beat as if it was just taking in its first breath
And all of its cracks and scars and bruises faded and it couldn't remember shedding a single tear or ever having been broken
And the beauty of love was found again
In the soft curves of her smile and the magic of the colors swirling in her eyes
And nothing else mattered
Nothing but her

By Arcassin Burnham

When It rains and it pours , is it God crying?
Or does he make mistakes too by dropping
Glasses of water on some parts of the planet,
sometimes i cant stand it,
Its too hard to manage
With all the decorative seasons and foreign
Ghettos,
Following their footsteps and letting all of their
Friends go,
I wish everything was in slow motion so I could
Move through this crowd of ******* and jerks,
Its more than I deserve,
And when the wind blows I'll be sitting in the
Rose garden full of sin while thick and bold and
Replace the new past with the old,
I think I struck a nerve,
The Power was within is all along,
are you man? or do you claim your strong?
If you pick confrontations left and right then
something will go wrong.

fingertips,
twitch itch and burn
with need

need to touch
torch-hot flesh
to feel, white-hot soul
ooze through thin-skin membrane

toungetips rake softlips
stealing murmurings
of heart and head
leaving desire
simmering  there instead

yearnings, deeper delvings
desperate dionysion delusions
draining staining steaming seeming
never ending mind bending soul rending ***

stealing silent sombulent kissses
of fearful guilty farewell
trip tip-toeing doors silently closing
need hosing, shamful moseying away
from who the....what the...oh hell!

fingertips tapping drumming
hunover mind blown but still hummin
no excuse away from home and lonely
awaiting the bill, cash only,
cause credit be evidence of crime of illicit time

now despondent knowing heart-sore
bad to the bone core, never wash away rime
dang, stuffed up to one's own detriment
balancing on earth-quaking, slip-sliding
no-place, nowhere to be hiding, mudsliding firmament
thinking deep, dark, stark stupidity rules
now just me the jester and the fools
all counting the cost and consequence
of one night, tispy cheap drunk nasty, nasty  thrill

perched on the cusp of disaster
looking down into oblivion
but sit we here, safe and sound
in our box of bulletproof glass

watching fireworks explode
and planting landmines
of despair in the land of the free
and sometimes fair

spouting words into air
of greatness and fear
ignoring the lost and scared
counting down the hours
til we can count the money
from over on the otherside
of the world this long ago
stopped being funny

now I can see some say
stop throwing stones
cause your houses is glass too
and your place has lost it's happy day glo

and I say back...yes this is true
we dropped the crystal ball
and are picking up a thousand pieces
and looking for some super glue

but for the moment lets get back to you
perched there, on the edge of disaster
looking down the throat
of a beast ravenous,
with the ethics of a goat
wanting to create some mythical wall
and some mythical moat

his maw cavernous
his need and greed ravenous
down here whilst playing at jigsaw
we watch the polotical beast bloat
and we  kneel and pray,
that his speech is just rhetoric
and this world don't fall
into war .....
as he cries wolf speak words
of the morally bankrupt
and compassionate poor
and his words of greatness
grate and draw, tears of sadness
from those cleaning up the gore