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 Feb 2018
Kellin
Sunshine radites though her hair,
Soft moonlight liummantes through mine

Thus the moon chases after the sun

Eyes of steel emeralds,
And pale opals
The best perhaps ever mined

Blackbeards most precious find

Moonlight dances along her skin
And fire on mine.
 Feb 2018
Kellin
After the heart stops there are seven minutes of brain activity left. Seven minutes, where the brain plays back movie memories of what shaped it- like a homage to the *****, like a final goodbye to the restless dreamers that lived by it, and the unwavering capacity by which they loved through it.
During the first minute, I saw you. I saw you as if it was the first time, and my god you were perfect. I saw the coy smiles, the terrible dance moves, and the genuine laughter. I saw you lean in for our first kiss. I saw me beaming on my way home, spellbound thinking, "This is something big. This is going to ruin me."
Minute two and three I saw the flicker of our flame, saw the way your bones played with moonlight, saw the endless letters you wrote me, scrawled in graphite along the surface of my skin. I saw the person you were working towards, awe-inspiring.  I saw the clock, as we counted down the the days, gripping tighter and tighter within our within our false reality, until I saw goodbye. The colours of every sunset I had ever witnessed, come together to build the contours of your face. I saw the purples of your under eyes. I saw the whites of your teeth. I saw the pink of your lips, and the reds that made the flush in your cheeks. I saw the person who had shaped me, the person who dig my heart up like dinosaur bones.I finally saw the person you were and the person I had made you become. But more importantly, I saw me, the dark shadow in the corner of your mind. I saw you whisper goodbye and god i wish there wasn't a billion souls because all I see in them is ur absence and it that moment, in the beauty of your night sky I finally closed my eyes and with my last breath your poison escaped my bones.
 Feb 2018
Kellin
Love was suppose to
give you wings
Not visit you at
your funeral
 Feb 2018
Kellin
It does not hit you until it's over
You then realize how achingly lovely it was to be missed by someone who gave you their best days

Now you are walking down the street with empty hands
Hoping your entire body stops aching
Hang on till the hurt is gone
 Feb 2018
Kellin
Your absence leaves a dull ache,
a phantom limb.
On occasion I can forget,
But then it's a sharp pain
to realize you are once more
a forever
Gone
 Dec 2017
Mark Wanless
"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend IV"


You merely smiled when I said this till you
Saw my eyes and the gnawing fear in them
And knew that I was serious. Then calm
And slow you reached across the table to
Take my hand in yours and held it just so
Between both your own, and said, This may seem
To simple to be of much use, and no gleam
Of magic light renders it perfect to
Cure in an instant, but just an honest
Caring acceptance, from one, to another
Who is suffering, is a priceless, ancient
Balm.            And so we sat quiet together, for
An hour, hand in hand, in the silence,
Sharing a gift of life, touching each other.
just a flow
 Dec 2017
Mark Wanless
"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend VI "


I've told you of my many mind changes
Not just the surface dross, but the living
Core of the root. The blurred symptoms bending
My sight to destruction, the hate of ages
Thriving within, the tainted defenses
Of ego that burned pain with their weak soothing,
This I told you and more. The thorned purging
Of childhood's conjecture, the strength that is
Formed, sturdy and deep, in one days effort,
The acceptance of self, which slow but true
Did lift, this I told you and more. And the vast
Labors of molding the light and dark shape
That frames my world, now glinting a soft burst
Of love's color, this I've told you, and more.
 Dec 2017
Mark Wanless
"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend VIII "


We have thrown many hollow words at each
Other in fits of spite and calumny.
Hitting the mark has been very easy
For both of us. I sometimes try to leach
A fawned approval, and in secret reach
Out to shape you into what i truly
Wish existed. You, can with childish glee
Lie about anything, or deign to teach
Me of your rickety opinions as
If they were life's first law. But these course, bare
Faults that sting do not ensphere and compass
Our union, nor do we gasp unaware
Of just remorse, and blooms one clear thought that's
Held jointly,       perfect people live elsewhere.
 Nov 2017
Tryst
I walked the streets of Dundalk, Maryland
In Baltimore, when winters shiver shook
Bright festive baubles clung in every nook
And flickering lights from windows gaily spanned
And by Papapsco Church I paused to stand
And gazed upon a host of the good book
And open-mouthed I felt compelled to look
Upon a scene obscene to understand
As ragged folk on benches tried to sleep
And county folk with badges moved them on
And pinned a blunt citation to church door
That shamed the reverend that tried to keep
Poor homeless folk from freezing evermore
At Christmas in a land most Christian
https://www.yahoo.com/news/maryland-church-ordered-to-evict-homeless-or-pay-12000-fine-101323402.html
 Nov 2017
Seema
Red vines growing in the garden of my heart
Twisting and turning such a beautiful art
Every junction, an estuary of blood flow
A brisk of good feeling makes my heart glow
The garden is healthy yet empty from inside
With shades of red it covers from outside
For people who dared visiting this place
Always seeked love and left their trace
A few entered the garden with lust intention
And left the vines dead to bring me to attention
Since then the garden is fenced and locked
Some predicted it won't work but were shocked
Today the garden blooms with healing vines
While I water it everyday with tasty red wines...


©sim
Fictional write.
 Nov 2017
Mark Wanless
"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend XVIII "


Different language different self, shaped
Of action, shaper of acts, aggregate
Born of body, speech, and mind. Offsprung fate
Mother creator, sentient congealed
Light. The mystery itself a gnawing
Pain stimulation to movement, former
Of distraction, pre-conscious constructer
Of constellations and galaxies swimming
In the great ocean deluded. Ego
Follows function, motivation the door
Magnificent. Change, reality for
The multitudes to nine decimals. No
Brain to small to know the great endless fall
To emptiness, clear waveless base of all.
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