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 Feb 5
stone the bear
from the deep depths of hell.
she didn't belong here;
she said she accidentally fell.

She attempted to leave
but that's the decision of fate.
she continued to wade in the fire
daydreaming of the big pearly white gate.
start of something
 Nov 2020
Elizabeth Kelly
He fancies himself a cowboy
In line at the corner store
Concealed carry snug on his hip
(He secretly hopes someone gives him some lip)
The cashier hands him his change without meeting his gaze
He’s surprised and aroused.
She knows her place.

Selling your soul’s not a deal with the devil
Selling your soul is a deal with yourself
Make the choice over and over
To shake your own hand
And pretend that it’s somebody else

He fancies himself a nonconformist.
A free thinker
The sheep will all do what they’re told
And he’ll be ****** before he goes peacefully to slaughter.
It was easy, he figured it out
Demanding proof is just an excuse to hide behind doubt
A warrior,
he wields the flaming sword of truth
His wife asks a question; he breaks her front tooth.

Selling your soul’s not a deal with the devil
Selling your soul is a deal with yourself
Make the choice over and over
To shake your own hand
And pretend that it’s somebody else

Somewhere a fat man is checking the math as he’s being served lunch
Picking through numbers, looking for nibbles
He dribbles drool onto his chin,
as he dials his guy in The Caymans
His stomach is rumbling, it’s never enough!
To deepen ones pockets, one first must make cuts.

The determinant cause for the silver mine fire
Will read “Accident: faulty electrical wire; Company denies liability
per signed agreement at hire.”
And the cowboy free thinker won’t laugh at the joke,
he’ll just choke
There will be no survivors

But today, The Cowboy nurses his hate,
while Somewhere a fat man is writing the fate of the cowboy in pen,
pleased to be Great Again.

Selling your soul’s not a deal with the devil
Selling your soul is a deal with yourself
Make the choice over and over
To shake your own hand
And pretend that it’s somebody else
 Apr 2020
Third Eye Candy
Brigadoon Ex-con.
Carefully culling the Word
From the Wrong one.
Keeping it Real
Til a dream suffice.
Melting the Ice
of a Heart Spot.
where something
got lost…

Exactly where you kept your Dumb At.

So Long Live the very
best thing
that you’re good
 Feb 2020
Victoria Jennings
To all the girls and women who have been brave enough to face their trauma and come forward and report

I admire you so much
You are SO strong

All four times it's happened to me

I laid there like a deer in the headlights

Like a possum playing dead

Waiting for it to end
So I could walk away in tears

And hopefully never see them again

To bury my trauma so deep no one can ever find it

And there you are in court

Locking them up and throwing away the key

I wish I did that

I'm so sorry I didn't

I'm always afraid that I'll run into them

Afraid they did it again

Afraid of remembering

But every time I cry it seeps out

Because no matter how hard I try to bury it

It's a part of me

A part of the story line that cannot be erased

I just need to keep reading and hope the ending it happier.
 Feb 2020
Miranda Renea
I watch the clouds slip past
In the reflections they cast;
The scattered about puddles
Stretch for miles and miles.

And aren’t we all? Reflections
Of the experiences we bear;
All scattered about time,
And stretching across years.
Love life new inspiration
 Dec 2019
Miranda Renea
Throughout these decrepit buildings
I see so much color.
There is dirt, rusted unwanted things
And yet, isn’t it beautiful? The way
The light hits a mirror just so?

I watch the night sky and am drawn
To the beauty of a sliver of moon;
A lone star dancing just above it.
The black night sky stretches around
Them and yet, and yet..

For this is who I was, who I am, and
Who I will forever be.
one of my hobbies is exploring abandoned buildings and capturing it in photographs. this is a poem about that
 Dec 2019
Miranda Renea
Make no mistake - she was not
Perfectly kept and tended to by
Loving hands each night and day,
As such a fragile thing aught.

She was wild - she was free;
She lived amongst the broken
Things, took root in a crack of
Pavement and bloomed her
Vibrant petals for all to see.
 Nov 2019
Miranda Renea
If I gather shattered mirrors
Scattered about decrepit buildings,
Can I carve the toxic traits out of me?
How much flesh until I’m thin?
How much tongue until I shut up?
How much ****** heart until I’m loved?

Isn’t it sick?

How every time I see my
Reflection in those shards,
All I see is blood?
 Oct 2019
Miranda Renea
When I am laid to rest,
Burn me like the passion
I held in my chest is now
Nothing but ash and dust;
Scatter me among the wild
Flowers and ocean breeze -
Remember me when petals
Fall and wind rustles
Between the leaves.
 Oct 2019
South by Southwest
Like a cloud of confusion
you hang in the air
Twisting your hair
with that ******'s stare

your thoughts congregate
The space you consider
is thought to be great

You weave stardust
from your past supernova
Discarding past lovers
like yesterday's toga

Now you retrieve
uncollected past debts
Come into my universe
with assumptions to bet

But step back over the
eventual horizon
I won't fall into a
black hole that has no. . .
 Aug 2019
Miranda Renea
Do you ever think of me too?

I wonder; are you a warm,
Nightly summer breeze -
Or chilly and full of colors
Like the autumn leaves?

What are you going through?

Do you tell a tale of tidal
Waves, brave in the face
Of roaring seas - naught
But shipwrecks to chase?

I can’t wait to meet you.

I know not if our love will
Be easy or instant, or if
We’re two broken puzzle
Pieces that’ll somehow fit.

All I know is this -
It’ll have been worth it.
 Aug 2019
Jethro Nhero Cuizon
At the start of July,
I sought for the twilight sky.
Amidst the murky cloud,
A little spark shines through the shroud.
A glittering, lustrous orb,
Gleaming like a beacon of hope.
Even in times of darkness, there is always a light that gives us hope.
 Aug 2019
You wash out the bodies
Hang up on a line
Pin 'em up so very high
And wait for the blood to dry

Iron them out
Straight as can be
Rough, but smooth
Not a wrinkle, or crease

Grab your knife
And cut it up
See the results
They should be enough

Now, fold them up
And pack away
Lock the doors
To keep 'em safe
I swear I'm crazy. I just compared dead bodies to clothes. *shudder*
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