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 Oct 2011
Thomas James
Seeing you smile,
Makes my world go crazy and wild.

Seeing you laugh,
Makes me want more cause I just can’t have enough.

Seeing you talk,
Makes time stop like there’s no ticking clock.

Seeing you walk away,
Makes me think that I want you to be mine someday.

—Thomas James Written on August 7, 2011
 Sep 2011
Rickie Louis
Over casted skies, hughed faintly by these city lights,  
power lines and treetops, distract the view, but not quite.
Just enough to see, beyond houses and horizon,  
this sadly painted sky, it is not colored with the season.

I look into your eyes, there's a hint there's something not right,
eyeliner and makeup, slightly covers up the hindsight,
But thru it I can see,  beyond the smiles and the reason,
Its look inside your eyes, it's as though I do not please them.

Trees waving in the wind, changing course throughout the evening,
like the calm before a storm, mother natures heavy breathing.
Then rain begins to pour, ions crashing from the ground,
brightly lighting up the scene, with a devastating sound.

Words flying thru the air, given alternating meaning,
defensively we scorn, imply intentions so deceiving,
within we become torn, as hearts lost cannot be found,
why can't our love be free, without these tensions all around..

Dawn turns to morn, as the birds begin to sing,
And the night of the storm, had ended violently,
Branches and leafs scattered in the flooded field,
It's a night to remember, new beginnings can rebuild.
This is yet to be finished, lots of tweaking needed to set it in all fairness..
 Sep 2011
Lorelei Adams
How now, shall I balance
One doom                  with               another doom
and
keep them in check
and look my perdition in the face
???andspit???
Would that disturb the sacred balance?
Wilt I sway Hades to use my thread to
to sew the fates of time
and use every single part of me
to make a blanket to keep the lonely titans warm.

Which burden is heavier?
To be cut off or strung along
 Sep 2011
Kara Rose Trojan
Too much of one worry is our buckled knees
dragging
the question to the fountain to make it drink. I’ll tell you the right
and proper Why I had to stifle
my cigarette break before my wrists broke
before my wet-eyed babbling witnessed your last constellation --
My last star
The star that bore the envelope between Doubts and Wisdom.
And Mourning -- that tossed bag on the vagabond's back.
I'll wait until the morning breaks.
I'll stake my flattery on the flyman's ****.
We'll wring that excuse "We were young"
until the dishrag shrivels moreso than
the letter on the fire.
Stick-figured promises -- know why you're here.
 Sep 2011
Kara Rose Trojan
My personal déjà-vu-time memory-prompts that frame
The blurring patterns of today’s hubcap-wheels, spinning
Kaleidoscope flashbacks of bathtub playtime.

A gaggle of giggling girls babbling about
What used to matter : umbrella-popping chewing gum
With gallivanting jargon laced in crushes-hushed : boy-talk.  

Pillows : Comforters morphing, swarming like
Womb-entranced, half-cupped palms calmed
Palpitating mouths motoring off self-pitying rumble-grumbles.

How the clopping ball of opted-birr was a bent-mouth birdcall
Over-relished, over-zealous imploration : a round robin
Jumblemix of a jejune bombast for slap-sticked power.

By-and-by polysyllabic buds bloomed, baked, and wrinkled
Past-Gas’s long-gone jokes : those balmy snug-hugs guarding
Doltish vulgarity among the begrimed-glitch and old-grown-boring Jive.
 Sep 2011
Kara Rose Trojan
Wherein without a mouthful of air,
He spoke of materialism with
a judge’s
            Merciless verdict.
His eyes so glazed yet passionate,
            He threw his thoughts to the ceiling,
Like rocks in a plastic bag,
            To see if it could make a bang
And his speeches are so angelic
Amongst the ignorant giggles
            And the frayed songs of yawns,
You really had to give him credit. For, you
See, he stares out at a whole different cosmic
Sect in a wanton orchestra
            Filled with red wallows of
            Flags and pride.
Scared jumbles strewn like flowers across this dying opinion-land,
He’s seen it all despite his accent.
He’s strummed cold and excited to be here.
His life is a rusting metal scrap
Tossed to the side of the masterpiece from whence it came.

He thinks that everybody must have been a spy…

No, wait, two quirks tossed in to
Hear the Man talk. It’s all a
Meandering walk from where
The toads squat.

He describes it as a war for the value of academic standards,
Which are now expiring before his eyes, and how we’re all
A bunch of rotting worms dying as we speak. The hope is
That the people from your life will be defeated by you,
Right? That’s how it goes in the war of everybody
Against everybody.  He desires to make all of life
Into a dream… but that would result in economic
Impediments.

Give him the $1 million, also known as “the cool mill.”
Everybody must have been a spy.

You couldn’t look for this logic
Beneath a rock
Or stuck in your lover’s hair.

He’s depressed because he is not asleep – he’s acutely aware.
He speaks like rapturous nuns,
  throwing themselves on to the cross
And begging me to ready the nails.
Unravel me with your smile,
The limbs of my soul stretched out to touch you,
Your voice a soft caress on my cheek,
Like honey and all that is hopeful in the world

Laugh, my love, and send me whirling too,
As you always have and always will
Oh, what I would do, what I would give!
To hear you laugh just one more time
 Sep 2011
Jowlough
We are what we say

what we share,

what we listen,

what we wear.

We are,

what we share to the public.

what our attitude is.

we are responsible,

we are our antics.

We express,

but we must know that there are limits.

convey to social standards.

Fix our attitudes,

and absorb positivity.

get busy

and stay happy.

at the end of the day,

it’s you what reflects on your mood.

the most important

is our attitude.
(c) 9.21.2011 - We are - jcjuatco
This love is one I'll never lose,

One I can't control

This joy that I cannot refuse

Leaks sadness in my soul
I wish I could tell you that I love you
And not worry that you won’t understand
That I say it not simply because I want to,
But so that in the event of my death,
You might know that I've loved you my whole life,
And that the amount of love I have for you
Is ten million times more than I ever deserved to experience
 Sep 2011
Breean Pennio
The world isn’t 
black and white.
You react like it’s 
this or that,
right or wrong,
me or you,
one way 
or not at all.
Break reality.
Come down
and you’ll realize
that between 
black and white
there are colors never seen.
Let me rub them
on your skin.
It may feel cold at first,
but once you get used to it
you can spread your
new found language
on me.
Finger paint 
this revelation
on my soul.
 Sep 2011
Juliana
If I had
Three
Wishes, I’d wish for
A unicorn
Nice skin
And you

If I could live on only
Three
Things, I’d survive on
Lemonade
Lasagne
And you

If I could only watch
Three
Things when I turn on the television, I would watch
That fireplace background
Futurama
And you, even if you are a runway model

If I was stuck forever on a desert island and could only bring
Three
Things, I’d bring
Food
Water
And you

If there was a zombie apocalypse and I had only
Three
People I could trust, I’d choose
A ninja
Chuck Norris
And you

If I could only cheat at
Three
Things in MAS*H, I’d change
To the mansion
To have less than ten kids
And to be with you

If I was in jail and I somehow got
Three
Phone calls instead on one, I’d call
My dad who would bail me out, maybe
Chuck Norris who would break me out when my dad refuses to pay the bail
And you, just to say hi because you’re broke and can’t pay the fee

If I had to choose
Three
Of my celebrity crushes, I’d pick
Johnny Depp, duh
B.D Wong, just for his voice in Mulan
And you

If I had
Three
Works of art in my room, I’d have
A stolen Picasso painting, shhh, look don’t tell
That painting where that guy gets knocked out by the apple
And you, chiselled into diamonds

If I somehow got amnesia and the doctors could only restore
Three
Of my memories, I’d want to remember
My name
That time when we killed those zombies with Chuck Norris and the ninja
And you

If I could only say
Three
Words, I’d say
Is
This
Creepy?
So this is more comical than anything. Please enjoy.
 Sep 2011
Juliana
I’ve been told I am strong
That’s alright with me
But I wish my hands were softer
So I could build
Beautiful
Wings of glass
Fragile but lusted after
I wish my hands were softer,
With my strong hands
I can only make
Wings of metal
Hard, cold and oddly shaped
From pushing and pulling too hard here and there
I wish my hands were softer
The wings of glass rarely break
Because people care
To place them gently on their pedestal
A trophy of incredible beauty
They think metal can’t break
But it can twist and bend
Until you can’t believe they were once
Something more than a lump
The thing with glass is
That once it shatters
It’s almost impossible to fix
I wish my hands were softer
But it’s only a wish and
I’ve come to enjoy
Reshaping my wings
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