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 Sep 2014
Deneka Raquel
Innocence,
Is...
Cocoons.
Keeping, caterpillars captured.
Keeping, fragility concealed.
Keeping instability confined.
Telling ambiguity it is necessary.
Telling in-culpability it is beautiful,
Until the day you gain consciousness.
Transcending into a butterfly,
Because when you learn how to fly,
You will never stop spreading your wings..
Your cocoon will seem, like it was just a fragment of your imagination.
Your mind will flutter, like a humming birds wings.
You will thirst for knowledge, like a bee for the sweetest nectar.
Your heart will love, like your natural instinct to sore above pinnacles.
Your lows will be depressing, you will stear clear of polluted capital cities.

Metamorphosis unravels your full potential.
Dancing rainbows...
The world is vast place,
And you will explore every inch of it..
Its about changing, transitioning, maturing.
 Sep 2014
Dean Eastmond
he typed the night sky in colours
that have yet to exist,
and stars that have yet to shine,
lived amongst the shadows
of burnt up poetry lying dead
on cold bathroom floors.
he called it artistic, metaphorical perhaps,
as he searched for empty answers
at the bottom of the glass.
to dream of "love",
and title it literature,
was to breathe.
She walks at night likes passion's grace
Through nebulous fields of dream landscapes
Wild Morpheus her footsteps guides

She’s lust’s impassioned wile incarnate
Her will like swirling ocean currents
Endows the night with wanton purpose

Sent from heaven's pearly gates
To make men ponder mortal fortune
Tempting spirits will to sate

Demanding accolades of prowess
To satisfy her primal needs
Traverse her treacherous terrain

Her visage of immortal love
Like honey dripping from the comb
Inspires reckless heart's abandon

Dawn comes like coitus interruptus  
Narcotic wisps of contention fade
A thrall with no earthly recourse
In love with the feminine mystique in general can leave you unrequited.
 Aug 2014
Ryan Jakes
Wakey Wakey, rise and shine
greet the morning with a smile
wide awake and feeling fine
dancing with this boy of mine.

Twisting on the kitchen floor
the monkey, the jive and many more,
the mashed potato, the hustle too
he follows my lead with a giggle or two.

There's a hound dog, a jailhouse, some blue suede shoes
as we Rave On  with Buddy and Peggy Sue
Reet Petite makes an entrance and whips up the crowd
"Turn it up Daddy, I want this real loud!"

Then on to the Land of a Thousand Dances
even the dog's grinning wide as she prances
we take Three Steps to Heaven and meet Cathy's clown
then on to the next one, no time to sit down.

So I'll fry up the bacon as my little bug jitters
and poach us some eggs with some sweet 'tato fritters
as I sing of Lucille, Maggie may and Delilah,
then Shake Rattle and Roll to those Great ***** Of Fire.
60's radio in the morning.....awesome.
 Aug 2014
Piglet
Target practice, aiming high
shoot these stones and watch them fly
see them hit and watch them fall
dropping bottles, one and all.

Line them neatly in a row
dented plastic, all will go
crashing quickly to the ground
with this new skill that I have found.

Knock them over, stack them up
once again, I just can't stop
precision like you've never seen
to rival Katniss Everdeen.

She had an arrow and a bow,
I begged my dad but he said no
cause with an aim as true as mine
he thinks I'd end up doing time!

So pebbles, sticks and bits of string,
who knew the fun these things could bring?
the satsisfaction is quite grand
to fell these items with my hands.

I love to see my Dad impressed
because he is the very best
but even with his throwing arm
he cannot hit the neighbours barn!

and so I laugh and love to tease
while sitting here beneath the trees
he tries to make an angry face
but laughter cracks it with quick pace.

So I call him my " Bottle Boy"
shout "line them up" just to annoy
and shoot those bottles to the ground
another favourite pastime found.
Sometimes simple is fun too. Although I will admit to rolling my eyes when Dad first suggested it!
 Aug 2014
Peach
If life is but a series of confessions
Then, allow me to confess
Cause this unavoidable winter chill
Is making me reel
For once just tell me how you feel
Tell
Me
How
You
Feel

***

I fake myself through the day
Probably about 170 different ways
Underplaying wrong intentions
Avoiding any type of intervention
I allow the masses to steal
Anything I have left that makes me feel real

Maybe it's the universe
Fate is often twisted
Because I can't stop giving
Beyond the cost of living
This life is unforgiving
And I'm too broke to afford the cost of healing

© 2014 Peach
Why do I always get trapped in these conversations?
 Aug 2014
Wardell Lee Freeman
I tend to get stares... Looks... The occasional "are you gay?" With a quizzical look of disgust.
Well, to answer your question, no, I am not gay.
In a society built around judgment and stilted above common sense,
Being gay would mean that I'd have to find women utterly disgusting, flick my wrists, speak with funny and awkward inflections, right?
Do you think I speak with funny and awkward inflections?
Good! Because I'm so not gay.
Being gay would mean that I love to shop, well I hate it!
My fashion sense does not exceed that of a box of colorful crayola crayons melting away in the blistering Las Vegas sun because you see, I don't live in San Francisco, or New York,
or anywhere "gay" people live.
I am not gay.
Being gay would mean that I am immoral but I can assure you, moralistically speaking, that morals are what keep me routinely from listening to Lady Gaga, who I've heard, despite her catholic upbringing, is a devout devil worshiper and I sure as hell don't worship Satan!
Oh no, I am not gay.
My father once told me, in his manliest tone that if I ever became sweet
or my tank profusely filled with sugar
that he'd disown me and rid me of his home.
However last time I checked,
I don't have a tank
and one lick of my tanned brown skin would reveal that I am in fact quite salty!
Salty, as defined by Urban Dictionary, means to be ******.
Bitter. Angry.
Well father, there aint nothing sweet about my wrath.
I'm infuriated.
I'm angry not because I'm not able to fulfill the holistic criterion society has built in order to be gay,
No, I am more upset that there is actually a set of rules dictating whether or not someone is gay.
Now listen to me when I tell you,
I am not gay
I am not gay because I have yet to inject myself of substances with an unsterile needle for all purposes of getting high.
No, I have yet to discover my last ****** partner was diagnosed with *** and that I may very well have the virus.
No, I have yet to interiorly decorate my bedroom with the warm crimson fluid that is my blood because some punk at school thought it was cute to label me a queer.
I have yet to be gay because being gay in today's society means I am reckless. I am promiscuous. I am a *******.
Well, guess what society,
I am not gay.
I am, in fact, a man, who is not your personal show dog for your fashion approval that you can tote around in some cute Gucci bag.
I am a man, who can still appreciate the beautiful magnificence that is a curve when he sees one no matter the person's gender.
I am a man who, despite what you may be expecting,
is a man who, no matter how hard you try to box me in a confined image,
is a man who, will fight to freely be in love with who he wants to be in love with,
who is a man who is not gay
but a man who loves men.
I am not gay.
..
Totally gay.
 Jul 2014
Julie Butler
Tiny blocks of sky-bits
Got locked behind my eyelids
I'm blinded
I'm trippin
I watch you live
I give in
But hell - I don't listen
I'm ****** cause of this
I'm not dumb
I've been dumber
Cause you got other loves
Our loves lost like -
Time for slumber
Making moving forward
Feel more like going under
This is the story of my
Life
during this god awful summer
I'm struck
& you
You're like thunder to me
So loud
It's astounding
& you remain unseen

The reality of this is clear -
If I've got nothing to lose
Nothing to choose from
I got nothing to fear
I just want to believe again
& you knock like it's easy
To turn this ****
& let you back in
But you run
Deeper than blood
In this skin
I'm pushing you out through a vein
& we can't even be friends
We can't even be NOTHING
a race that ended weeks ago
& I'm still out here running
It isn't fun anymore
I ought to be done with with it
I wanna slow burn you off of my tongue
With some *** and sit
Quiet
No drums
No lines to spit
It's time to do me
Like where I come from
The sun is lit
And I'll just follow the sky
Like a crow
With tunnel vision
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