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 Aug 2014
jessiah
Maybe I take comfort in the idea
That a straight line upon an infinite plane
would eventually
Pierce these flat layers of cosmic malarkey
Some black hole could speed us
Out of range of our guilty hearts
Our minds could come to rest
In a cove with a stellar view

Quiet

Where time gently laps at the shallow shores
And my fear of deeper troubles includes not our demise

Just our hands gently never untouching
 Aug 2014
unwritten
there will be no greater joy
than to see the constellations in your eyes
fall apart
like shredded tendons.

and there will be no finer victory
than the one that will come
when you realize that the planets do not orbit around you,
and that you are, in fact, no better
than the rest of us,
in this meaningless assembly line
around the sun.

there will be no happier moment
than when it occurs to you
that you are not as high and mighty as you believe yourself to be,
and that you will never
dance among the stars.

there will be no greater joy
than to see the paint start to chip
off of your poorly painted universe
that is your feeble facade.

(a.m.)
i find myself referencing the sky and outer space a lot in my poems. and no, this is not directed towards anyone in particular.
 Aug 2014
K Balachandran
Seventy million light years away, my eyes fly

see two spiral galaxies collide and get distorted

taking eyes off from the telescope, I turn to  your face

where the impact of the collision is on graphic display,

in many colors of fury of a love gone sour, for no reason

we still are seventy million light years apart, my smile

a dove orchid, withers in this shower of inter galactic dust.
 Jul 2014
Pleased to Meet You
Barricade yourself behind sheet thin walls:
you have a lover and his lust.
A velvet rope will suffice.
As delicate as your skin.
As sinful as your tricks on her heart.
You pestilent child.
Your lies as thick as her favorite book.
Lies converge with truth on black nights.
One covers the other.
I could never tell what is what or who is who.
The city stands over you and stares, shamefully.
Those tricks are the work of the devil.
Those sins are perfected by man.
Caress her skin and lie upon her.
Finish what you started.
Every stroke is a lie, a crime, best seen blind.
What you live in is a twisted universe, an empty madness a spark of youth disappearing from inner being

Your age catching up, your mind closing off to any ideals

No substance within your mind, so reality check is pointless for you

The mirror which you look upon is cracked and filled with shrapnel

Busted stare never seeing what is in front of you, never knowing what is behind you

Here’s hoping you catch it before it is too late to even wake up to

Girl you’re heading down a path of darkness with no light to shed upon pathways of retribution

You ought to turn around and run the other way, for it is a lonely ending

Street car full of sadness, jagged edged knife slicing vertically upon veins

Until you wake up from this nightmare inside you, you will never know what the world possesses for you

Come to your senses, bring your wits to pasture and open up your eyes

Here you stand atop of 10 story high rise with no balance to catch yourself before you plummet to your shadowy death

Loneliness is leading you to your worst story ever; your self-worth leaves no banknotes at open safe deposit boxes

Go along; go far from this world which you have painted in grey scaled matter

Turn your life light on before it is too late, before you have nothing left to call your own
©Aiden L K Riverstone
 Jul 2014
BarelyABard
The devil works at Norman Rockwell and he wrote the blueprints to suburban paradise.


The angels by his side fill our homes with the same designs and their fingers stretch into rocking chairs,
draining our lifeforce.
I can smell the sulfur on him when invited so graciously into your home.
God ******.
He didn't even need to ask to be let in.

I am screaming silently into a wall while they are draining their glasses,
laughing at jokes told a thousand times before.

The comedy of man.
The tragedy of man.
Aren't they the same thing?

The cheers at clones in suits preaching promised lands
turn to static and I am sick of trying to block the noise.

"If you dance with the devil, the devil won't change, the devil changes you."

...but perhaps I can learn a few moves from and wait for his feet to stumble...
 Jun 2014
Jonny Angel
I rode the tale of a comet once,
through the recesses of space,
leaving traces of myself
in every constellation
& most of me lies
in Orion &
within the Southern Cross,
but some is indeed in Gemini
& the rest in Canis Major,
I'm Sirius.
 Jun 2014
Linda Pahl
this roaring fire in my belly
consumes me like a cleansing brushfire
preparing the ground for new growth

from the ashes of my former self
wiser, stronger, less afraid,
like a phoenix, i will rise
To see the image that inspired this:  

http://instagram.com/p/oJZ6h3zdwT/

.
 Jun 2014
A Gouedard
A Question of Numbers

In one year we travel four billion miles around the Sun
Without even stirring a limb.
We dream fifteen thousand dreams,
Remembering almost none,
How significant those that we do.

In a lifetime we may see nine hundred New Moons
Twenty-five thousand Sunsets,
Twenty-five thousand Dawns.
How many do we really see?
How significant those that we do.

How many times might my love smile at me?
How many times will we kiss?
How many dreams can we make come true
Before time flees and is gone?
How significant those that we do.

If I thought I'd be gone tomorrow
What would I say and do?
Nothing significant.

The light comes and goes across the earth;
A clock hand that sweeps us away.

Butterflies, unaware
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