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 Jan 2013
JK Cabresos
I may not be able to provoke beauty
in my words.
Nod.
For I'm just a writer with no experience
of any masterpiece.

But for those appreciations, all of you
have given to my works.
Smile.
For each has left butterfly that will always
be inside my chest.

And that is irrevocable.
Thank you for all the reads and feedback.
To write is inevitable.

All Rights Reserved © 2013
 Jan 2013
JK Cabresos
Echoing voice of the moonlit night
Foresee but unarmored from past,
Fragmented heart of broken lights;
Unraveling miseries already did last.

Drowned by tears of years were lost
From crawling those diverging roads,
Victim of dying embers found his cost;
Resemblance of faith is in the woods.

But God above guided his way home
And dry every little river in his mind,
Mournful shadows are still unknown;
Embers of souls are always in divine.
~ Feedback please. Thanks :) ~

All Rights Reserved © 2013
 Jan 2013
Lindsay Marie
Down the hall and to the left is where the monster stays,
And when we are with the monster there are certain games he plays.
The first game is quite simple, don’t be heard and don’t be seen.
And if you ever break these rules the monster will get mean.
Next we play hide and seek, which is my favorite game.
And don’t you dare come out of the cabinet even when he yells your name.
If the monster finds me first, stay hidden in that place,
Because sometimes when he finds me, the monster and I will race.
The monster is much faster, and catch me he will do.
Stay hidden where you are, this game is for just us two.
Cover your ears and close your eyes, this game you shouldn't see.
It is this game I don’t like much, so say a prayer for me.
When we play this last game, the monster can play rough,
But you don’t have to worry it will be over soon enough.
When our games are over, the monster will go to sleep
And the scars left by our secret games, you and I will always keep.
 Jan 2013
Samir
that beauty's only skin deep...

so while one little girl's crying has now stopped
it has transferred to the one with acne beneath her?

If words have such strength then why have we attached such a strong word
and then stapled, in such a careless way?

We have hurt the feelings of the ugly people
as if there exists such a thing
we have scarred so many children's inner beauty

What about the girl who wants to be a model so bad she based her personality off of it
her skin is literally all she has
and we have now made her to think that she is unwanted and has nothing but her skin deep beauty
so she needs a man who understands her pain, a man of the same skin...
surely only he could know her pain
cut through all this vain and all is lost
because men and women are not one in the same
especially nowadays

Far worst the girl who is in between
feeling distraught over her ugly friends and trying to save them
meanwhile being jealous over her superficial ones who "stick" together

While the ugly find each other
and the beautiful set a bad example
perpetually...

I look for the girl named compromise
she knows the struggles of which I surmise
and maybe, though society seems to bind us
fate will come along and find us
and remind us
that beauty is not deep as the skin...

It is as deep as the soul within.
 Jan 2013
Glenn Sentes
Take the letters
as topping in pasta
Then relish the words
aromatizing,
basil air,
reminiscing.
Dash some pepperoni
like commas fill
through hesitant gaze
but not as overwhelming
as EE Cummings’.
Lick the poetic sauce,
twist the erudite fork
like how your head searches
for luscious meaning
and its sense
finally hits the palate
you say Ahhhh!
and ******
your stomach.
 Jan 2013
Jethro Nhero Cuizon
Everytime
you look at me
my heart skips a beat.
 Jan 2013
Samir
I woke up cold in a dark house, not a home
I woke up in a cold sweat all alone.
I don’t know why I even woke up at all…
Most of the time I don’t
I have nothing ahead of me
Nothing to look forward to that is
It would be a break if I had solely nothing ahead of me
But of course I am contained
Repressed, oppressed, stressed, depressed
Surely I am confined
And sometimes I die

Upon waking up again I choose to sit up in my bed in the dark
And within the black it is just my consciousness and my thoughts
My existence, reflective of the black, becomes one with the absence of light
Sometimes I sleep and my brain continues thinking in my head
Only to think about emotion whose practical use is now dead
Even if I had left
It was through the light of day that I had slept
Even if I had left
There would be nothing that can quell the aches in my chest
This house took my everything I had ever felt
These sheets, I acuse them of theft
Even if I had left
I would never part from the bed.
 Jan 2013
Jethro Nhero Cuizon
I closed my eyes
and lie down
with so many burdens
to carry on my shoulders.

I closed my eyes
and rest,
thinking will I
ever wake up tomorrow?

I closed my eyes
and pray,
hoping to see
the bright light again.
 Jan 2013
JK Cabresos
Trees line the riverbank,
I sat, still waiting for you.
Our names are written on a tree;
I remember, you were not mine,
you were never mine to keep.

Our childhood memories
stained my mind, lingering forever,
but it was a mistake
and I have never been consoled.
Now, I could not seem to find you,
you were gone as years grew old.

You helped me conquer fears
and taught me how to love that day,
when loving seems so naive.
I remember, you were not mine,
you were never mine to keep.

We cherish this place,
our vows, nobody cares.
We sailed the river together
and promised to never let go.
Sometimes river is just river.

Memories of this riverbank,
I wept, still waiting for you.
Alone, but this river must flow;
I remember, you were not mine,
you were never mine to lose.
~ Feedback please. Thanks :) ~

All Rights Reserved © 2013
 Jan 2013
Emanuel Martinez
Matters of love, you’ve reaped into me
Dynamics of knowledge, richness and profoundness
Bringing age to my heart

Knowing love and knowing brutal pain
More real, more powerful, more beautiful
Gifted consciousness filling missing part of potential
Crumbling down our incompleteness

Loving you more than consciousness of my thoughts will allow
More than the passion of my intensity
To be a model of human brilliance
Manifests within the existence of my being

I am a furnace
You are the only flame
Sparking this wild fire

I am a candle, inanimate,
You are the flicker that gives it life, light, soul

I'm am intrinsic potential waiting to be actualized
You are the catalyst of life breathing momentum into me
Through your existence

A flower, a beacon, weapon to my oppression and pain
Appropriation of your love, impossibility in my life

Immaculate potion to my sorrow
Like a wild flower
Withstanding thunder, hurricanes, and rain

An atom from another dimension
Your pulse travels through my heart and my soul

As dangerous as ore
You are the purest form
Deep underneath farther than I can explore
You are the most beautiful creation

You are the end to my means
Unconceivable new reality to my rebellion

The revolution I await
In the deepest part of my existence
Knowing it might never be

Key to my chains
Chant to my muted voice

You are the embodiment and the soul of my freedom
Always escaping from me
January 18, 2013
Those little orange bottles,
Who drown the bedside table.
A melting *** of colors and shapes,
I obviously am not stable.

Only a few,
Was all mom ever knew,
Before I went to sleep.
She soon found me,
Covered in *****,
Passed out in a bundle of sheets.

Oh, how rude.
I am being so vile.
I really haven't talked about this,
In quite the longest while.

Maybe I need more pills.
More pills to 'help' me survive.
More therapy,
More pity.
Oh, no thank you,
I'll be fine.
Had a nightmare the other night about my first attempt.. I found humor in it, like the lunatic I am.
 Jan 2013
Kingafroninjaa
The unstable mind of the infinite girl slowly starts to crumble as he ascends from hell into her forsaken kingdom.
The mirror tells him that his impish looks gives him an undeniable handsome.
She knows that the insanity hidden behind her blood stained eyes is what drives his incurable lust for her.
His insatiable need to be one of two is how he causes hurt.
What is she getting herself into by playing in his hidden eden of ecstasy?
He latches on to the first thing he sees in the vicinity.
The scars of their intimate charade reappears in the moonlight as he devours what's left of her mistaken innocence.
In the attempt to mold her into something like him she seems to have lost her very essence.
She screams into the night hoping that his deaf ears will finally hear the cries of his once infinite girl.
The faint sound of the night breezes past his ears as ponders his next assault on this world.
She'll drift through the seamless passages of time and space to regain what's little left of her impure soul.
His next mission will not fail, he will meet his goal.
She clings onto the memories of their past lives as he holds her meaningless death in the palm of his demon claws.
To create something perfect like him, and rid the world of things like her and all her flaws.
She waited for the sweet nectar that death will bring only to realize that her heaven lays with God's fallen angel.
To be the world's savior, to be the world's angel.
A poem co-created with @JayTheEmperor from twitter.
http://skreened.com/kingsclothes
Moving on.
I hate the phrase.
You just don't understand,
That my mind is a maze.

I'm alone and I'm scared.
I need someone to be there.
To tell me it will be okay,
After I've dreamt of you.

Do you not yet realize,
How bad it hurts
To have to get out of bed?

I don't have the luxury of wallowing in these sorrows.
I have to spend 7 hours thinking about you,
And normal high school things.
Then go home, just to think of you more.
  
You just don't understand.
What you think is moving on, is my dependency on others to survive. I thought you understood that?
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