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Vomitting up
the words
in the dark...
From the night
That the mouth of
the room
Remained open...
Morning ,
A crow on my chest
was dead...
...خُو گرفت به تآریکي
...از وآپَسین جِرآحَتِ نُور
 Nov 21
Traveler
Avalanche of karma
no where to run
no one can escape
what humanity has done
So…
Tune your channel
raise your vibes
heal our world
with poetic light!
 Nov 19
Caroline Shank
With all your expert mouth and
tongue of many tribes you
call me to the dance floor
of your poetry.

I ear your accent, I tongue the
vowels of your incredible name

which blossoms every morning.
I bed to your brown eyes when
touch begs rest from incessant
breathing.

You are wheat chaff and I am
the wind which blows over the dead dreams of aged memory.

I understand now the satiety
of your love.  The desert of
uncertainty where the bridge
of your wanderings
crossed my month
of ecstasy.

You are the list I take to
mind's far places when
thoughts of you are

exhausted.


Caroline Shank
Are you tired of killing us
Here I stand **** me
Are you tired of maltreating me
Here I stand devour me

How will you reap my flesh
How will you cook my bones
How will you drink my blood
How will you stop my tears

Here I stand presenting the cup of agony
The fountain of happiness flows as I revolt
Use my gift and fetch the drink for thyself
How sweet is the water I give

How bitter is my flesh to you ?
Did you eat my soul ?
Oh no! my soul is a brook of undying peace
Wallowing as daffodils adorned with loving gem

Exchanging hands of friendship beyond earthly rivals
Beyond your evilness and injustice
Your heart is oppressed by our thoughts
Wouldn't you drink our blood again

Wouldn't you **** us again?
Are you tired of your corrupt thoughts?
I thought you prefer to live in the dark
What makes love resides in your heart

Written by
Martin Ijir
 Nov 18
guy scutellaro
the red glow of her cigarette.
the fingers of her left hand
yellow  with nicotine
clutching dying flowers

"buy a rose for your lover," she says,
"buy one for your wife. buy 2."

"the flowers are wilted."

"maybe it's your eyes that are wilted.

she had black hair
black as the night
the violent night
and gray eyes
the shade of ***** ice

"you must love
someone,
some of the time, no?
put a rose on
your father s grave, then"

"love is like lost pennies
falling from a broken jar"

she smooths her hair with one pale,
long, fingered hand, "you re crazy,"

"my mom says so."

i was born to
have adventure

I followed her up the steps

i was born to chase the night
through the forest
of dead roses
 Nov 18
Francie Lynch
A once dear friend
And I met up;
Twenty years since we spoke,
And neither one could talk.
We left each other's company
On terms of disagreement.

The ice was thick;
The air was clouded;
We stood beneath the shade.

The mountain didn't fall;
The earth didn't swallow;
The roof stayed on.
Nothing cracked our uncertainty.

Then we misquoted some old
Misunderstood memories
Of why we went our ways.
And felt the same.
 Nov 17
Carlo C Gomez
~
"Satellite, oh, satellite
who sits upon our skies
how deep do you see
when you spy into our lives?"

This is for when
coyote called
into the ether
connecting heaven to earth
For when
glasnost sang
and velvet revolution
twinkled in the humming air

This is for when
the quiet hedges
of lilies and remains
came out of darkness
For when
the misty curtain man
shopping for codes and antiquities
poisoned the salt shakers

This is for when
a spy in an alcove
twisting the thermos tops
to his dark-eyed sister
shelled the transmitters
of Radio Free Europe
For when
his wife refused

This is for when
working in the glass structure
of a Cold War
made spider and I
a measured room
an arc of doves
For when
the last step from the surface
was the end of a thin cord

~
 Nov 15
Zoe Mae
You mimic the Moon
Twelve foreseeable phases
Infinite faces
 Nov 12
A W Bullen
As
if from
nowhere,

a dimple
of that far-off laughter

ripples through
the wavered spaces

fainter
than it used to be

indubitably
yours
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