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  Mar 2015 Dawn King
Jason Cole
this memory
this ghost for hire
for which i pay dearly
is worth as much, or more

these blue night skies
and black sky days
deserve as much, or more

rainy eyes my mind clouds make
sunny eyes my mind clouds fake

take, take, take
that is all she does
it is all she knows

this ghost
this memory
this love

©Jason Cole
  Mar 2015 Dawn King
Jamie King
We are young men buried in books
Shoveling words every day
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Ours minds drained deep in the pools
Of knowledge. So they say
We are young men buried in books.

We find ourselves caught in hooks
Of wisdom seekers shall we pray?
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Exhausted, some will turn into crooks
While we proudly remain grey
We are young men buried in books.

We bear fruit of hope from the roots
Of pain so follow the rules we lay
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Are we zombies in schools?
In our paths we never stray.
We are young men buried in books
As we are gradually shaped into tools.
I've never been the one to follow structures when it comes to poetry but when I heard about the villanelle and how difficult it is to master I just got excited and inspired
Dawn King Mar 2015
days rundown
implode inward
i’ve uttered my confessions
no absolution
it’s some kind of
dead society of 1
who is me if not you
where do i go
when i know
i am not seeking
i am being sought
shall i stand firmly
aside my chosen doctrine
when days rundown
implode inward
  Mar 2015 Dawn King
Arcassin B
By Arcassin B , quinfinn , wendy , soul , kate , mosaic , king , liz , Joel , susan & corinne

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

AB
I'll Always be there,
Is a very strong line,
So benign,
At how so many liars use it,
Make their levels rise,
Put your lighters in the air,
For the lost love,
Like a volcano without eruptions,
Embedded in a time frame,
Freeze for the camera of deception,
This ain't who you fell in love with,
Fell too deep in the demons pit,
A devil with pretty features,
You had time for conversation,
But you wasted it,
By punching in your clock for another lover,
That I had in fact thought was my friend,
So when you say you want to be there for me,
Please just dont pretend.

WSQF
here within the dormant, still holding fire
what lies beneath cannot be concealed
by the test of time or the trials of amore
give truth as you wish it to be given
turn existence into the art of living
i await you under dreams of purpose
and ours will stand the tests ****** upon them
words mean little when not secured to emotions
and we have swam these tempestuous oceans
define me with your loyalty
and count and what will ever endure
the better nature of you on me.

WSE
Do you fathom my eyes,
Blind to your smile,
You believe,
I'm ignorant with bliss,
Unfortunately,
To be honest,
There are times when your right,
I pray you reach a day,
Of satisfaction,
Come to realization,
There is no other love,
Secure or comforting as mine,
I'm just waiting for...
This true peace to waive upon you,
Until then your just,
Wasting life in turbulance,
Not meant to be true,
Just remember,
I too have a heart of fire,
If appeased by another,
Quite possibly released in desire.

SS
Have I been thus?
Well, guilty as charged
But not for another LOVER
I ain't a vamp gal at large!
Sometimes I just got bizi
But YOU ARE MY BEAU
If I couldn't go out with you
I LET YOU KNOW!
You knew that goin in
You know what's at stake
But now you're in the grass
Like a cold blooded SNAKE!
I see through the veil
I see your ways
Now YOUR face is pale

Just go away....

KM
please don't play them games 
I know you aint going to be with me forever 
I see they way to look past me 
you were a real smooth talker 
Why would you ask me to stay 
I guess it was never ment to be 
I just wanted you to see
their isn't anything like us 
your devil eyes 
dragged me down to my knees 
when your broke the heart of an angel,
now you see you've made a devil outta me 
im replaying your lies to others 
Playing the same game you played .

Mosaic
You said you were there
But just like my hair
You fell out
Truth like a Baby Ruth
And I ain't biting
Search. High then Low
For the lost love,
Like a tide with no moon
This is just a card game
No goldfish. No direction. Joker. No hearts.
This ain't who you fell in love with,
Flashback, looking at the sky
No wings, Should've of known this was a lie
Drunk on her beauty, 
But she was dehydration
And like a clock, 
You were two timing
There at the the secondhand,
Stood who I thought was my friend, 
You said you were there,
But you were just lying.

DK
Baby, we encounter the waste every day
Bottom feeders posing as prophets
Can’t you smell the decay
Throwing false promises around 
Like it’s some kind of game
Look inside yourself
Deep in your heart
Before you rip my soul apart
Do I appear anywhere within
Now, are you strong enough to be genuine.

ES
Being true holding the line, 
Counterfeit promises, 
Ain't going to be for me, 
So cool it with all your excuses babe, 
Love is the realest of deals, 
You can't stuff me around, 
The reel of our misconstrued movie,
Don't plot a genuine gamut, 
It'll only ever be an sickening compromise, 
Caring is the juice I need,
So feed me no more sucker tricks, 
Babe you're stringing me out, 
To be there,
Yeah right, 
That togetherness jingle rings in my head, 
Don't bait my tender hook, 
Then up and leave, 
There ain't any future in that for me,
On a cold and lonely road.

JMF
Your receding steps
echo upon my forehead
like dripping torture.

Drops of memories
patter down gently, wet your
unused pillowcase.

A gulf of unsaid
endearments erode the shore of
common happiness.

Silence, like water,
a universal solvent:
breaking down years of
bonds which held us together,
watching love spiral away.

Susan
carry on as though we've never met
use your energy towards lighting 
someone else's way
with the unfueled fire of your burning promises
and careless words never meant for me.

Corinne
Lies steeped in wanderings
of a discontented mind
looking for what it may
potentially never find


musings of another
not to be left wanting
lingers of what could have been
often can be haunting


* taking leaps of desperation
without a single care
for one who would assuredly
always have been there

This a fickle flittering flame
down it sure will burn
leaving a heart full of love
undue reason to yearn*.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Feast your eyes on the best collaboration in the world , hell!!! Maybe the universe I don't know lol I just wanna thank everyone that inspired me to do this , I love each and every one of you guys and for the people that collabed with me I love you guys and you inspire me to do this poetry everyday , and I thank you , now let's make history !!!!!!!✊✊✊✊✊
  Mar 2015 Dawn King
Sylvia Plath
'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
    in the impossible mind's eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
    where wave pretends to drench real sky.'

'Well then, if we agree, it is not odd
that one man's devil is another's god
    or that the solar spectrum is
a multitude of shaded grays; suspense
on the quicksands of ambivalence
    is our life's whole nemesis.

So we could rave on, darling, you and I,
until the stars tick out a lullaby
    about each cosmic pro and con;
nothing changes, for all the blazing of
our drastic jargon, but clock hands that move
    implacably from twelve to one.

We raise our arguments like sitting ducks
to knock them down with logic or with luck
    and contradict ourselves for fun;
the waitress holds our coats and we put on
the raw wind like a scarf; love is a faun
    who insists his playmates run.

Now you, my intellectual leprechaun,
would have me swallow the entire sun
    like an enormous oyster, down
the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark
of comet hara-kiri through the dark
    should inflame the sleeping town.

So kiss: the drunks upon the curb and dames
in dubious doorways forget their monday names,
    caper with candles in their heads;
the leaves applaud, and santa claus flies in
scattering candy from a zeppelin,
    playing his prodigal charades.

The moon leans down to took; the tilting fish
in the rare river wink and laugh; we lavish
    blessings right and left and cry
hello, and then hello again in deaf
churchyard ears until the starlit stiff
    graves all carol in reply.

Now kiss again: till our strict father leans
to call for curtain on our thousand scenes;
    brazen actors mock at him,
multiply pink harlequins and sing
in gay ventriloquy from wing to wing
    while footlights flare and houselights dim.

Tell now, we taunq where black or white begins
and separate the flutes from violins:
    the algebra of absolutes
explodes in a kaleidoscope of shapes
that jar, while each polemic jackanapes
    joins his enemies' recruits.

The paradox is that 'the play's the thing':
though prima donna pouts and critic stings,
    there burns throughout the line of words,
the cultivated act, a fierce brief fusion
which dreamers call real, and realists, illusion:
    an insight like the flight of birds:

Arrows that lacerate the sky, while knowing
the secret of their ecstasy's in going;
    some day, moving, one will drop,
and, dropping, die, to trace a wound that heals
only to reopen as flesh congeals:
    cycling phoenix never stops.

So we shall walk barefoot on walnut shells
of withered worlds, and stamp out puny hells
    and heavens till the spirits squeak
surrender: to build our bed as high as jack's
bold beanstalk; lie and love till sharp scythe hacks
    away our rationed days and weeks.

Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down,
and god or void appall us till we drown
    in our own tears: today we start
to pay the piper with each breath, yet love
knows not of death nor calculus above
    the simple sum of heart plus heart.
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