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 Oct 2018
nivek
Freedom is a gift the wicked try to steal
but in their blindness they truly cage only themselves.
 Oct 2018
Jo
You find me when I walk alone -
are my companion when I'm on my own.
Standing by me in a rowdy crowd,
you encourage me TO SPEAK ALOUD.

There are times I know you grapple with fear
but instinctively know when it's time to appear.
Rising up, you hold my hand and walk me through this desolate land.
Giving me a voice when some have none;
only we know how far we've come.

I want to say thank you.

You punched that bully in the face;
gave me strength to run the human race.
And from the ashes you raised my voice
giving this woman what I like to call choice.
 Sep 2018
Jonathan Witte
I
I stole my brother’s car and drove to Phoenix in the dark. Bluegreen glow of dashboard gauges, the faint scent of roadkill and desert marigolds. Tap. Tap. Tap. Insects slapping the windshield like rain. How many miles does it take to turn yourself around, to rise up from ashes? Keep driving. Drive until the sun blooms.

II
Some days were more dire than others. CCTV footage confirms I pawned a shotgun, a Gibson guitar, and my wife’s engagement ring at the pawnshop next to Fatty’s Tattoo parlor. The typographically accurate Declaration of Independence inscribed on my back also confirms this.

III
I ran the tilt-a-whirl at the Ashtabula county fair, fattening up on fried Oreos and elephant ears, flirting behind tent ***** with the cute contortionist with strawberry-blonde hair.

IV
I derailed in a dive bar.

V
I disappeared in a city lit by lavender streetlights, where buildings blotted out the stars and the traffic signals kept perfect time.
I picked through trash bins. I paid for love with drugstore wine.

VI
I closed my eyes on a mountain road. The sheriff extracted me from a ****** snowbank.

VII
I holed up for weeks in an oceanfront motel, dazed by the roar of the breakers. Each morning I drew back the curtains and lost myself in the crisscrossing patterns of whitecaps, the synchronous flight of sanderlings above the dunes. I dreamed of dead horseshoe ***** rolling in with the tide.

VIII
The moon over my shoulder tightened into focus like a prison spotlight. One night the barking dogs undid me. Goodnight, children. Goodbye, my love. I capitulated to the candor of a naked mattress. I grew my beard, an insomniac in a jail cell clinging to bars the color of a morning dove.

IV
I coveted the house keys of strangers.

X
I opened and closed many doors. I sang into the mouths of storm drains. I stepped out of many rooms only to find myself in the room I had just left. Despite all my leaving, I remained.
 Sep 2018
Ryan O'Leary
Were you always an author
Ryan?

" No actually, and I am not
  a gardener either "

So, how did you get into
writing then?

" Ransom notes, Grafitti
   and Letter - Bombs "
 Sep 2018
Ryan O'Leary
La France n'est pas libre.

I will finish this essay
when I am in Ireland,
because what I have to
say could land me in jail.

" I may not agree with what
   you are going to say, but I
   I will defend with my life
   your right to say it "

                                     Voltaire.

ps.

But that was pre the French
Fratricide of 1789 and also
before Eiffel  decided that
La France could no longer
claim Liberty and thus gifted
the statue to America.
 Sep 2018
grumpy thumb
No one's gonna come

looking for you under a rock

don't have
such luck
                       wishful waiting won't pick
                you up
for someone to love
you give them something to love
        if you always hide away
                     no one will know what you got
Think it's time to shake
                           up
this place


                           paint yourself
fill up the space
might go against
      every ounce
of your self worth
but
                   if what your worth
               is worth it

                                     GIVE IT
a chance.

           Blind them all.
I've tried to self promote but it's not what I do. Don't feel comfortable though I guess I have too....
 Aug 2018
spysgrandson
the green grove a magnet to my eye
on these sun baked plains

I enter the glade to take shade with the cicadas
and vampire mosquitos

then I see it, Eden’s villain, coiled and rattling,
red ready to strike

I raise my staff, I too programmed to survive, do to what millennia
have taught

still we are in this staring standoff—silent save its rattle, deaf
I am to the chorus of insects

neither of us moves for an eternity of seconds, until the snake lunges at my feet

where its fangs find a field mouse, and devour it while I watch, an unwitting witness to expiry other than my own  

I leave the copse, whole, content another creature has, for today, taken my place in the bloodletting
 Aug 2018
Eman
Live in poetry
Hold unto novelty
Never settle
Never just be
**** being content
Sadness, emptiness, happiness, despair, love, hatred, wonder
They are all colours
Why paint in black and white when you've got the whole
spectrum?
Feel.
 Aug 2018
Babu kandula
Am a fiddle at heart
Am a riddle at thought

Rumbling past
Bumbling future

It’s all part of a story

Penned by regular

Choices
Sacrifices
Motions
Emotions
Events

What not?

End of the story
Random one
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