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 Mar 2016
Javier Garza
Daddy said to love him, all it would take was a touch
To not disappoint him, a kiss would do
That to be a man, first you have to know how to please one
If not, then he'd tell mommy and she'd hate me

Mommy drinks her days away
Doesn't see when daddy's too rough, when daddy leaves marks
Mommy's too busy seeing the pretty colors I can't see
Says the happy pills are our little secret,
That the silver water is to help her heal;
Tells me to go bother my big brother instead

My big brother,
Oh he's always ignored
Not even when he comes home with trophies and medals do they care
They don't even see the slices on his wrists...
Or maybe they just don't care
Maybe that's why big brother decided to watch me from above
Maybe that's why big brother gave me one last hug, one last 'I love you'
Before he closed his eyes for the last time
To sleep the eternity away

As for me
Oh the years have passed but I still have a smile on my face
Daddy's in prison being treated like how he treated me
Now he'll know how to please a man, I know I do

Mommy's six feet under
The pretty colors were too strong
The funny smoke didn't want to say good-bye
So it took mommy with it
And now neither can hurt my lungs nor my heart

But here I stand as I place flowers on the grave of my cowardly brother
How long did it take before it all became too much?
Did he please daddy too? Is that why daddy would beat and hate him?
Did he see the pretty colors like mommy? Is that why he fell in eternal slumber?
Or was he too weak to endure? To survive with the filth left from our parents?

Now I walk away, free of sin
Free of love
Free of pain
Now, I'm all that's left of my broken family...

Like daddy, I now yearn for the touch of a male, but a man, not a boy
Like mommy, I know see the pretty colors, but I'm not shackled like she was by them
And like my big brother I too have matching scars on my wrists
A depressing piece, but it's not like it's not something that doesn't actually happen. Life and can be cruel, especially when you try to hide it from others, and deny the ugliness. Don't be a coward, if you see abuse, do something about it. Maybe then society wouldn't be comprised of broken souls who hide from one another.
 Mar 2016
heather leather
They stand tall and smile beautifully,
any gaps between their teeth is held together by
glue called fear of what could happen if they are
anything but perfect. This glue, it is strong and sticky
and unbelievable expensive, it costs both your pride
and your happiness
[but it's okay, because both would've been taken
anyway. This is America you are a girl and you are a
shade of black so dark it blends within the moonlight.
the skinny twig girl in your class will call you a slave and
you will bite back the salty and sour response threatening
to spill from the back of your throat, that she is the color
of cafe con leche left on the porch and dried too long from
the burning sun of the Caribbean sky; and when she and her
white-washed friends laugh you bitterly think, wow there's no
difference between her and every other ****** here.]
They are gorgeous. Lips so red they remind you of blood at
a nurse's office. Stomachs so toned you want to scream that
your color is not a trend, that your milky white and yet charcoal
black skin with small bumps easily mistaken for traffic signs
with how easily their colors change is not a beauty status. your
skin is not pretty. It speaks an oppressed language with eons
of history behind it like your great grandmother's blood that was
shed onto the white man's land after he conquered something so
precious it could never be given back and you carry that with you,
within the stitches of glass cuts you forcefully made onto your
black skin, sickeningly thinking that you weren't good
enough because you aren't them and inside the skeleton
of your body is your grandmother
and she was a warrior in her own right and you carry her within you
and inside it not something middle school girls can laugh at.
it not something bitter old white politicians can mockingly ridicule
and sarcastically apologize for. it is not something that a boy,
years later at a frat party can try and belittle,
as if saying you are pretty for a black girl makes you feel better.
your great grandmother's soul and the woman before her give you
that milky white and charcoal black skin that can only be described
as the sky at midnight, when everyone else in the small town
you live in is asleep but you are awake and it is beautiful.
it is a hurricane with an infinite amount of water,
it is warfare at it's most addicting point and it is cataclysmic,
and they have no right to spray the dark color of the moon
onto their skin and pretend that the sun does not exist
until it is advantageous for them.
They are pretty.
They are beauty.
They are white,
and you with your Dominican kinks and sunburned skin
are not and this is something that now you do not like
but within time you will come to love.
thoughts?
 Mar 2016
Terry Jordan
I ask this of you, Lord
In your hands my fate lies
I've wandered in blindness
Please Lord open my eyes

Let your love fill me
Let your love heal me
Don't let life steal me
From your tender love

I prayed to you, Dear Lord
With these sighs my words poured
Please clothe me in your love
And hear your ev'ry word

I was tired and so lonely
My mind broken in shame
Until I was led to
Calling out in your name

Like gardens need water
Oh we reap what we sow
Your light in my path, Lord
Helps me see my faith grow

I feel heartbeats of Spirit
When it holds me so near
It's God's grace that saves us  
And erases all fear

I sing to you dear Lord
Like a child just been born
For love, strength and wisdom
You've been here all along

I let your love fill me
I let your love heal me
I won't let life steal me
From your tender love
Even though I have failed you at times in my life.
Even I have hurt many people in my life here on earth.
Not on purpose but at times even the saints can seem selfish.
Even though I might have even done things against Gods will.
Yet he tells me every day if I sincerely come to him for forgiveness.
That I have no need to fear his Mighty and Righteous Judgement.
Because it is all toss in the ocean of forgetfulness, so I need not fear.
His wraith on the day that I have to face him in his true Judgement.
So yes if we run to him and admit that we mess up then we are forgiven.
 Mar 2016
Arcassin B
By Arcassin Burnham

Thinking that your word was all Gospel,
Its just a little less pressure for me,

But lately you've been feeling a bit hostel,
Filling up thoughts with my anatomy,

Picking up the pieces to a brick wall,
I put so much of all the shame in myself,

Expressing love but in a way it's hard to fall,
I guess in life I really need some help,
For the bad memories and fears of growing
Old and alone while filling voids and the
Waking of the sun yet I'm tending to the throne
Of a failure,
Want it all to be a dream to awaken from.


http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/03/awaken-from.html
I wish it was all a dream.
 Mar 2016
Pixievic
Let me dance for you
For I am a dancer
Let me sing to you
For I am a song
Let me arouse you
For I am a lover
Let me sleep with you
For I am a dream
Let me soothe you
For I am a healer
Let me comfort you
For I am a smile
Let me protect you
For I am a shelter
Let me show you
I could be yours

Let me
Love you
Forever

(C) Pixievic
One from the archives!
 Mar 2016
Arcassin B
By Arcassin Burnham

Waiting in the mountains of the past sins
That has lead me to this point in time where
All the people that I thought had cared,
abandoned Me in an icy cavern surrounded by
Several land mines and a thousand explosives
Beyond the land of survival,

Guiding my eyes to the wrong things in life where
I make every mistake known to man and hurt
The women that I loved and cared for in their
Desperate times,
Having an unfortunate life and short time spans
While increasing the horrors of my anxiety to
Throw me off the path to acceptance,

or maybe I just think too much.


http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/03/think-too-much.html
Ode to a bad life .
 Mar 2016
The Dedpoet
I'm a United States citizen,
Fifth generation,
And I might be sent back to Mexico.
  Because in the here of the now
  The people stand at the crest
  Of the paper moon,
  Its almost eclipsed
  Because Obama was
  Never more than words.
So we look for anything,
We are thirsting for something,
And the Trump card falls
Into place, he's full of ****,
But he's full of **** in
Full public.
See we know the establiment
Needs to be dis- established
Because they sing like mockingbirds
To another mockingbird,
And Hillary the woman
Is still a politician:
    Oh the patriot,
    ****** fool.
    He still believes
    In America!
    And why cry the democracy?
    Why poetise the political?
And the patriot said-
          Because I am what I am,
          For love of country,
          Freedom of my freedom,
          I am the people,
          We are the voice,
          And America once had a dream.
 Mar 2016
Brent
words only come out from cracks
whenever you feel broken.
O Holy God if ever a time that your healing is needed it is now.
Let your Spirit send your Healing raining down upon the world.
Let it overwhelm, your people that are still here on the earth.
As well as others whom eyes shall become open through it.
O I plead and pray that this shall be the season for eyes to be opened.
Let your Healing pour down from the Heaven that is way above us.
Restrengthen your people, while healing us of our pain and struggles.
While opening the eyes of those that shall believe, repent and follow.
Because every day this planet dies even more so heal heal everyone.
For no one but you know the ones that belong to you Lord God.
I want to thank my Sister Catherine, brother and sister Brandon and Lady Jane, my other sister Jane and both my sisters Elsie, and Alyssa all the other Mighty MOG and *** I love you all in Christ.
I love you that do not even know yet that you belong to God plus everyone else I want all of you to be healed
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