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 Jan 2016
SY Burris
Her feet were balloons and her toes were the ties,
And her shoes were a way of life—
Boots to splash in puddles and heels to catch an eye.
Her legs were the ocean and her arms were the moonlit sky
And her hands were binoculars and her palms were maps,
And her fingers showed him the way.
Her nails were chameleons that changed when they liked
And her skin was tan in the fall and pale in the spring,
But her cheeks were always rose
And her shoulders were turtles, lifting the world,
And her neck was only a scarf
And her stomach was empty but her chest was full
And her hips spoke for themselves
And her golden hair coiled like silk snakes before the killing strike.
Her ears were the willows on the edge of the lake,
And she could hear but never liked to listen,
And when she did, you knew,
And her questions were stupid and her answers were not
And her thoughts were clouds in the morning
And her voice was the wind
And he was lucky.

Her eyes were blue and hung like Neptune in the dark,
And her gaze could cool the sun,
And she was beautiful.
 Jan 2016
Randi
When I think about it,
I’m a glass half-empty—
I’m running out of myself
and I don’t know how I’m going to recover.
 Jan 2016
Christian Danner
I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.
 Jan 2016
Ja
OUR CHOICE
It is
       Our choice
                           In life
                                     To make
Which road
                     In death
                                    We have
                                                    To take
WIZDUMBs BY JA 341
 Jan 2016
Ja
Walk with me, while I age
Help me write, each tortured page

Instill in me, compassion and courage
To my ego, and oppression discourage

Assist me to, life’s challenges manage
Forgive my failures, do not disparage

In grief, with comfort, do me assuage
In death, my virtues, with homage gauge
BOEMS BY JA 344
 Jan 2016
Ja
MAY LOVE FILL YOUR HEART
AND JOY FILL YOUR DAY
HERE"S WISHING YOU HAVE
A HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Hope you have a lovely lovely day
 Jan 2016
Kush
Ah, yes I forgot how easy it is to deconstruct people
Like watches and clocks, they all have their own intricate gears shifting and turning
Still, a precise instrument is able to take apart those intricacies and expose that inherent layer of vulnerability
I very much enjoy exposing these facades and their artificial substance
I choose to be that precise instrument
Gratification comes in droves when the opportunity to reveal the truth presents itself
I can see it all around me…These masks
Feebly attempting to cover up for shortcomings while detracting from those around them
I laugh! I rave! How could I not?
So much drama and bluster amounts to nothing more significant than the cream atop a warm apple pie
It amuses me! It defines me! These performances to a non-existent audiences
I could not survive without the chance to tear down these fakes
To rip off that mask and clear their vision
So they could finally cease their endless whines
So they could open their eyes and see
They’re just as ugly as you and me
 Jan 2016
am i ee
feets of snow
building

quiet muffled walk
high red rubber boots
sinking deep into
freshly falling snow

wind whips snowflakes
swirling about
stinging bare face

a local police suv
scurries by
sign the road is passable

no other movement
bright lights all about

soft white sky
dark bare trees
sillhouetted
against encroaching
building
white backdrop

bushes bend
heavily under
boughs laden
with many many
little snowflakes
hovering on branches
together

it is a blizzard celebration!

wind dances
swirling and singing
roaring and biting

snowflakes spiraling
and dancing
so so very free
racing across
the sky and the
earth
happy to be out
happy to be free

the dark night
owned by the
ones who
live free & wild

in ever eternal delight!
 Jan 2016
Spike Harper
The smoke has yet to lift.
Giving the horizon a eerie feel.
The whistle of death has long since passed.
Even the thunder that lashed out so hungrily.
Has been subdued with the souls scoured.
Numerous holes are sporadically placed among the rubble.
Some are filled.
Like the contents of a blender set to mince.
I peer into the stagnant pool that collected in the smoldering depths.
Not even the earth seemed to want them.
The urge to dive in overtakes my senses.
And the remnant cries are getting stronger.
With every breathe does my mind crystalize.
Frozen in the moments that distort this rigid oasis of despair.
The need to return beckons.
Yet integration is nearly complete.
These arms have become strangers.
Just like the rest of this surrogate being.
The storm is coming.
But I remain.
Watching.
As the familiar figure takes its leave.
Grinning with every step.
 Jan 2016
Black Jewelz
There lives a woman who
Seems mystical, even mythical
--It is true--
Because she is biblical;
Rarer than a precious jewel.

She is virtuous
She is loyal
She is courteous...

She is royal.

She shines brilliantly, like a star cluster trapped inside a room.
She glistens like jubilant sun rays dancing atop the ocean.
The wind of her voice sets inspiration in motion,
Like a sonic boom.

She is powerful.

She is virtuous,
Who is worthy? Just
Wonder & coil
In a corner & toil
As you ponder this.
And honor this
Acknowledgment,

Because she is royal.

Don't dare compare her to the likes of
Nefertiti or Isis.
They are not so estimable,
You couldn't buy her even with a million zeros before the decimal,
Because...

She is priceless.

So the King adorned her,
Because the King adores her.

She is beautiful, so they say,
But such a meager word could not suffice,
Because her true charm emanates like waves
In the ardent expression of her practice of life.
And from her mind and her soul.
Her precious heart--more precious than gold--
Looks like a kaleidoscope of rare gems,
Darting dazzling colors; the spectrum in whole.

Diamonds die in comparison,
Hand her a diadem...

She is special
She is jovial
She is gentle

She is royal.

She is not haughty,
Nor does she flaunt like worldly wenches do.
She tells girls who've been told they're peasants they can be a princess too.
She is not naughty,
Nor does she taunt like wanton vixens do...

Because she is godly.

Yes, indeed there lives a woman who
Seems mystical, even mythical
--But it is true--

She is virtuous,

She is royal...

She is you.
Written for a woman I adore. Not my wife or girlfriend or anything like that. Just someone I knew.
 Jan 2016
Spike Harper
By every stitch awkwardly placed.
Does there linger a sting.
A colorless.
Vastness.
Of nothing.
A space.
Larger than any ravine.
Boundless.
Where even the brightest smile.
Drowned.
It was here.
In this same collection of wavering resolve.
A new smile was born.
Of lust.
And piercing wales.
One that fit ever so perfectly.
Tears and pain cascade through.
Yet it remained.
Begging.
Wretching.
Playing with this notion of spite.
And torture.
The blade driven by ones own hand.
Is the very one that knows this darkness all to well.
Hiltless.
Does it dive deeper.
And the black ooze finds a home.
In the abyss beyond.
For this.
Is the viciousness desired.
A circle of ridicule.
And tumble end over end.
Smile intact.
Mind.
Shambles..
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