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 Jul 2017
Melanie Elaine
I wish I could write a poem about what it's like to forget to write.
About when a pen feels foreign in your hands
and when your fingers can't find the keys of your laptop.

How does it feel to lose a gift that you once felt you had,
and and a passion that you once held so dear.

My words feel like echoes of stories once told and lives once lived.
They no longer belong to me.
Like my voice with the witch in the sea,
and my mind with the gods in the sky.

I do not know who I am anymore.
How I once envisioned myself,
all but scraped away.
Can I claw my way back?
This is the first thing that I have written for myself in over a year. It feels good to be writing again
 Oct 2015
Lying motionless, pretending to be,
As dead as the bodies, surrounding me,
Covered in blood, bits of dead skin,
Masking my aroma, as they close in,
Dragging of feet, hearing their groans,
A chorus of dead, no longer alone,
Clutching tight, the axe in my hand,
Looking for flesh, around me they stand,
Smelling the air, one turn's his head,
Breathing deeply, he can tell I’m not dead,
Rage fills my body, a fight to the death,
Swinging my axe, with every breath,
Cracking of skulls, I fight through the mist,
A figure remains, the one that I missed,
Anger turns to tears, my beautiful bride,
Killed by them all, now a Zombie resides,
My arm lowers, I beg her to leave,
Closer she comes, I fall to my knees,
She reaches out, as her eyes bulge red,
I scream out as I....
....put an axe to her head.
I turn, into the rain
Behind me is my pain
The drops seem to wash away all of my hate.

I now know I was right
About the way you lie
You turn your back on me
I pretend it's all just fine

But they deep ness in my chest
Doesn't let my nightmare rest
They fill my brain with sadness
I can't describe this madness
My whole life has been one joke and I
Can't seem to look around this

But my time will come soon
And you'll wallow in self pity
Because I'm the one who cared
Yes I did all your bidding

But now I must go
I know it will be hard
I just need some time alone
To find out how people are
But don't worry my heart will stay at home

Don't worry about me now
I'm as free as I can get
One day I'll come back around
To tell you about my trip

I hope I'll gain in happiness
And lose a little shame
But remember that I loved every second of the pain.

 Mar 2015
Sam Stone Grenier

                                   ­    I
               g                      s          
               r                       t                      
               a                      a                                  
      ­         v                      n
               e                      d      
 Mar 2015
so much like the paper, it crumples
it remains untouched but has been molested
trying to close itself up, until you came and
tore open the stitches and shed the
so much like the paper, it falls
leaning on the words of another to live
their inscribed marks upon its open skin
scars not marks, wounds not scars,
because the wounds have not
closed yet
 Mar 2015
Just Melz
She shouted from the roof tops
Her love for him
And how it would never stop

He simply stared at her
In utter shock
nobody could ever love me
Or so he thought...

She smiled with her arms spread apart
Waiting for a response

He stood there silently
Unable to move but wanting to walk
Walk away from the lies
Cause he'd been hurt too many times

She begged and pleaded
Trying to make him believe
It's the truth she said

But he couldn't respond
Simply turned around to leave
women only hurt me
Was all he could believe
Too much pain and abuse
For those lies to become the truth

She sunk inside herself
Filled with pain and so many tears
After years of trying
She finally faced her fears
Only to be hit with rejection
Imperfections of love
Shown at there finest
She couldn't stand her thoughts...

He slowed his walk
Thought about the past
Suddenly came to realize
This life is your last
And there on that roof top
He may have finally found some hope
So he stopped his walk
Turned around to accept the truth
Only to find
That she had jumped off...
 Mar 2015
Ashley Nicole
You know you're happy with life
When you finally fear death
Happy days
 Mar 2015
Mark Lecuona
There is so much anger
But I don't know why
For what I have become
Is what I cannot deny

If I am a man
It is in spite of me
If I am a man
It is because of me

No color No preference
No belief No difference

Nothing in my way
That is their life
I walk my own path
I make my own strife

I cannot believe what I see
In the hate among men
For what were we taught
Except to give unto them?
I'm half Cuban but as you can see from my picture, I'm white... there is so much complaining about race issues and I just thought about it for a minute and accepted or maybe reaffirmed that my lot in life is because of the choices I made. I can't blame it on anyone else. Not on their color. Not on their ****** preference. Not on their religion. Not on their gender (well.. ha... there's a couple of women that I wish I hadn't crossed paths with but maybe that's my fault too!)... It's all on me so I don't understand the anger we see out there from white people....

I say, look in the mirror....
 Mar 2015
The first is when
someone is reckless with
your heart
and it breaks and it shatters
in ways
you never   thought it could

The second one is when
you break
someone's heart
because you'll never
know pain
like  the type that has you
look into their eyes
but they look away.

And the worst kind of heartbreak
is the kind that comes along
when you have to watch
the person you love
with someone else.
And so, we were never meant to be.
 Mar 2015
princess joel
You're in love with him
and he’s in love with you
and it’s like a ******* tragedy
because you look at him
and see the stars and he looks at you
and see the sun but you both think
the other is just looking at the ground.
 Feb 2015
Melanie Elaine
If you take away our literature, you take away our sight.
We become the blinded king of nowhere.
When we look out on the world beyond the valley of ashes,
we will conceal our eyes and
forget that you don’t need a pair of glass slippers to be Cinderella.
We will forget that we need need to be home by midnight,
because after midnight it’s so dark
that you might go out hunting and mistake a mockingbird for a crow,
or a crow for a raven.

When we try to use our words, words, words, they will cut out our tongues
and force us to play a game that leaves us more hungry than satisfied.
This is because instead of pure knowledge, we are being spoon fed a corrupted education,
and we will no longer eat alphabet soup without our big brother standing over our shoulder preaching to us about the glorious future that will be 1984,
and we will all be forced to live in that cowardly, old world.
And there they will lead us like lambs to the slaughter.
Where if they see the spark of curiosity
they will try to wash it out like the ****** spot they see it to be.

We will forget why the caged bird sings
and why the baby’s gravestone only said Beloved.
They will paint an A on our chest which will stand for absent,
as in absent from the conversation because
we are not able to comprehend what they are saying.
We will not find joy in the poetry written on baseball glove
because we will not know how to read it,
and we will never be the catcher
because we will all be separate and and still not live in peace.
When we come to a fork in the road
we will take the path that everyone else has traveled on,
because we have not learned to stand on our own two feet.
Which means that we will never be able to find Alaska or
where the fault is in our stars.
We will not hear the stories of what happened to the handmaid,
and they will tell us if we are brave, kind, honest, intelligent, or selfless,
because you can only be one.

Our whole lives we will never have pride, but we will accept their prejudice.
We will hear the heartbeat in the floor boards and blame it on the wind.
When we find ourselves stranded we will reach for the conch and fight over it,
because we will all be stuck between a rock and a hard place,
and when the sirens of our society call to us with lies about what our future will be,
we will jump from the boat and swim towards our deaths.
because life without books is just as good as no life at all.
We will lay dying in coffins that our children build for us
as unspoken poets with our heads in the oven.
We will be condemned to make the past our future
and we will watch as they test what they can burn at 451 degrees.
And finally when we all sit down and accept the bibliocaust they have stoked,
we will forget the things our dear friends
Ellie and Anne warned us about what can happen in an annex or in the night.
Slam poem about banned books and the power of reading in our education system. References to 29 various pieces of literature and 3 authors. I hope you enjoy!
 Jan 2015
Don't wait for a catalyst be your own
Become best friends with yourself
And you'll never be alone.
Be an inferno
Be the wind
Be the poison in the dart
Dance with the universe and love it with all your heart
 Nov 2014
we are losing in a gulag
of our choosing

the un-predict-
ability of liberty

an extraordinarily poor
rendition of a system

where oaken-ed cloaked
murderous crows caw foul

jumping at every
shadow of a shadow of

a shadow nears to turn to turn
to turn the clock back years

election day is tuesday
- rue the day sweet liberty.

r ~ 11/1/14

*much at stake
  |      **VOTE!**
/ \
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