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 Oct 2019
r
I ask you moon
what good does it do
losing sleep regretting
all of the stupid ****
you did, time wasted
when I could be listening
to the wind whispering
poems in my sleeping head
instead of thinking about
my own death, hell, I may
as well be writing my name
in the water, my prayers
to women knowing they
can never be read, any way
I go, I’ll go in peace because
these words, I know, will be
unknown, so let the waves
take away what they will
let the tide say that I tried
I lived, I loved, I swam
a long **** time; I tired.
 Oct 2019
touka
when you are waiting
as passive as the glass you drink from
calcined, corralled
into your adequate shape

stand,
skin of your temples limned
by fluorescent,
until your legs ache
and while you are waiting
biding your time until they lift their heads

every disparate form you've taken

sends off their own light
a wild sunbeam toward each coast
broad, bolder-*****
your spine the rock entrenched here, there, wherever

those loafers become one with the floor
melt into it, you
the offshoot of spit
from a rallying cry;
the last good drop of Pentecost
pooling into the terrazzo
 Oct 2019
kain
Swing sets
And black top
Cryptids lurking
In elementary
Play grounds
Your ice eyes
Matched with mine
Rich red stain
A pool of maroon
On your jacket
Coat pockets
Covered in pins
I met them in the middle of nowhere.
 Oct 2019
alex
i said i am really sorry
and what i meant was
i love you more than my heart can handle
it had been all about me
and then you took the stand
and losing my breath never felt so romantic
do you know? do you know?
i can’t apologize for the way my attention
is always and only on you
you know you know
every day i thank the lord that you exist
i’m sure you hear the prayers
i can’t describe it
you are so much
you are everything
thank you for crying
and thank you for being mine
but in some secret kind of way
you’ll never know how much you mean to me
just know that you are the least replaceable person that i have ever met
and every time i say goodnight
i’m really begging you
to stay.
jcl. i will never stop loving you, mostly because i will never be able to.
 Oct 2019
r
Her words will light a fire
underneath deniers, eye-to-
eye, take on the liars, I, too
have too long uttered silence
while our children quietly
despised us, we, even me
who knew, choked it down
the unclean smoke unspoken
yes, how dare we leave this life
behind for generations to bare
our crimes, and yet they rise
above to breathe fresh air
the clean O2 of burning desire
searing, shouting utter truth
to wake the world, to sing
and single out, to recognize
a lie when it is a lie, FIERCE
like fire, beautifully reactionary
aflame, to inflame, now is here
your time, rebel, my rebel child
fight for your very life, your future
children, species, for all mankind.
FIERCE, like Greta.

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.pbs.org/newshour/amp/world/read-climate-activist-greta-thunbergs-speech-to-the-un
 Oct 2019
kain
You're so serious
I can barely read your lips
Never laughing and never ending
Contemplation of everything
I wonder
When you'll laugh
And if it will light
The whole world on fire
He's just a little bit of everything.
 Oct 2019
Jeff Lewis
Naked on the bed.
Crumpled sheets
             tossed aside.
Unsettled strains.
          Musical snippets waft from
          god-knows-where.

Overhead
     a
fan spins.        

Breeze on skin.
What does it mean anyway?
           The fan?
                     The spinning?
                                What the hell does it mean?

You see it in movies sometimes;
      the fan… spinning
         a room… spinning
            the moment… spinning
               spinning…
            spinning…
      spinning…               off into some sort of premonition
                                      or foreshadow of disaster.

Like in the script from some film.
     One of those with
                                      the dark edges  
           and the loud


           silences.

What does it mean?              
           What the hell could it possibly mean?
            
                           Does it mean anything at all?

Maybe,
   all it means is
        it’s too **** hot

tonight.

                            yeah
                            might be that’s all it means.

                                           ok…
 Oct 2019
kain
Like coffee
You taste bitter on my tongue
Slightly sweetened
By the glaze of your eyes
When you wet your lips
And press them to mine
 Oct 2019
John Niederbuhl
Imagine yourself
Absent all self-awareness
But fully conscious
Deep thoughts, existential
 Oct 2019
zak
Her
words moved me, and
God
i wanted my fingers to blister and my
bones to ache
but my mind withers and my heart breaks
i swallowed ink and still i couldn’t
make the words flow like they used to as if
almost as if
they refuse to
 Sep 2019
zelda rangel
[1] truly, i belong to no one. but unfortunately, my heart keeps yearning for love. i believe it does not make me a desperate woman. for me, it only proves that at the end of the day, we all covet attention, touch, sweetness, and love, of course. if i have given the chance to keep the ones i felt a connection with, i thought maybe, i can fix few parts inside their soul that would make it work. but they proved themselves that they're just a season - and i wish they weren't.

[2] they came barging in, questioning themselves. what have they done long-ago or who they truly are? the eloquence denotes an adoration. they threw pebbles in the fountain and wished a happy ending, illustrating the comfort and triumph we could get. no, they didn't say the endless possibilities. just that. indecision arises within and the injustice won, and just like in everyday life, it occurs often. it's humiliating to admit how i almost drowned in the lake where i supposedly am only wearing a silver lining but instead, i wore a discolored crown and a cheap jewel. nevertheless, i giggled, of course; who wouldn't? oh yes! my future self will call it deceptive. but isn't it?

[3] i saw a blotch of paint on my arms. a raspberry bruise on my knee slowly vanishing as i tried to stroke the brush onto the white canvas. the art is looking more forlorn than it was thirty-two minutes ago despite the cerulean clouds and ginger-colored paint dripping. there's a feeling of dissatisfaction that seems to linger—no, let me rephrase that. it’s like a sting in my heart, just like how needles can abruptly make your fingers bleed, or how someone can touch your soul except they can swiftly **** you twice. shut your eyes or shut the door? would you even dare to choose? i cleared my throat before picking up the paints on the floor. if this is a dream, i will not protest.

[4] the deities, whom i described as righteous, superior and unbeatable, declared a plague where humans become bellicose. in a piece of paper, i wrote it all down and carry it in my pocket every now and then. i believe this is how we, the mortals, should be; someone who has a sense of right and wrong. but the latter ones love contradicting the divine. so i guess, this is a sentence. i told them no! i will never be one of them! but i cannot decipher their faces. there's a slight uncertainty on the surface because of my undeniable convictions. i am a woman, after all.

[5] i believed in rainbow-like reality. my soul grew up in a household full of love, trust and maybe a few adventurous spirits. the clash of unfair judgment and misconception doesn't seem to matter. we're all different, point taken. yet, it did not disrupt the petals budding in meadowland; something i pictured in my head when i was five or seven years old. i simply believed in love, and loving them could be the ultimate cure to wounded hearts. for me, there are no bad people, only a damaged one.

[6] i tried to soften my heart. again and again and again. but it seems useless. do they enjoy betraying the trust? do they like sinful beginnings? do they love being an untrustworthy person? i cannot fathom their reasoning and logical thoughts. apart from the fact that they make my heart aches, terribly, they think dominance is the only way for me to think that they're in control - and that's the most disgusting thing.

[7] my ears cannot disregard the heavy steps between the whirlwinds that disturb the bushes. i've talked to the owls last night and they said you were wide awake the whole night. they told me how frustrated you were with how things turned out. how awful! you know i can't call the ambulance - not because i can't do anything about, but because i really don't want to.

justice hurts when truth prevails. suffocating, isn't it?

[8] i have no idea how to swallow my bruised ego. excuse my ignorance - does it sound foolish? coming from the mouth of a woman laying her head down, scorned repeatedly by the hands who willingly pushed the wine barrels from the top of the hill, resulting in unstoppable motion.

my cardigan tenderly wrapped around my body, i felt the skin cuts, the remorse for letting you all in, the storm brewing, sorrow - all at once.

don't you dare tell me i did not even try!
the languid caterpillar finally departs

i believe in the most delicate parts of a person. i think we all have that child-like innocence within us - we all have the purest heart until the outsiders marched their way in our lives. you are not obligated to treat me kindly - but i think it's fair enough not to interact with me if you have no good intentions towards me. i have come to realize that i cannot control everyone but myself so if you still have decency in your body, at least do me a favor - give me the coldest treatment you could possibly give, so i know what can i expect and how should i treat you in a most fairly way.

this world is so cruel, so am i - when i am triggered.
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