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 Dec 2016 EJ Aghassi
Little Bear
i don't write
poems
anymore
the words
are not
in my head
to be written
to be said
they are not
in my heart
to be etched
upon the page
they no longer
linger
upon my tongue
whispering
to be sung..
the space
they once
poured from
that hole
within my chest
has been

.. healed?

and
i find
i do not
write
poems
anymore..

not
any
more

i find
myself living
instead
just a thought
advertisement beckoned
free screening
trouser thuds upon hardwood
metal belt buckle clinks
gloved finger
probes to find
a nodular protrusion
resting sac bound
begotten, benign
now watch, wait

shall it birth
some high grade
tumor
with a passionate
desire to consume
the whole of you

vigilant
on guard
living
on edge
for inevitable
struggle
around each
new scrutiny
of numbers
presented in decimals
detectors of death
prowling
seeking to find
an oasis
to plant
to grow
Cancer, fear, prevention, examination
Skinned ghosts and spilled ink
In a sack of flesh
My very own.
 Dec 2016 EJ Aghassi
Pea
I take it for granted
Your brittle teeth
My hammer tongue
Jittery throat
Don't try to speak
You don't want me to listen
My ears are waxed with distortion

Hands off
You don't want to touch me
My skin is smeared on poison
Don't even gaze into my eyes
You won't find truth
In the eyes of a Gorgon
A man named Perseus once gave me two eyeballs. I was so happy.
 Dec 2016 EJ Aghassi
Pea
Audrey
 Dec 2016 EJ Aghassi
Pea
longhaired, honeyvoiced
husky alto is the voice of
an angel, deep and moist
***** buzz like a bee
 Dec 2016 EJ Aghassi
Ray
I thought I found it.
I thought I had it in my hands
I thought ;
I thought.
It was never there.
It could never be there.
Out from the belly of her gut
And onto the street,
I am here,
I am here;
And that is all I've ever had.

Bile in the curb,
Word ***** has never done me in worse;
 Dec 2016 EJ Aghassi
Franchesca
Remember that you are a work of art.
That with the sun light hitting you as you glisten or a shadow creeping upon your skin, a master piece is still a master piece ,with or without the lights on, crowded or empty showcase.
Do not forgot the splattered paint you call your failures, built you into who you are.
You were an art exhibit he did not wish to enter.
Remember that just because he didn't look beneath the covers, that there wasn't a Mona Lisa waiting to be revealed.
That the messy days were bad enough to leave.
That the good days weren't good enough to stay.
That just because he looked that way instead of your way, that you aren't okay.
In the end, you were just too much. A man's ego is never one to be tampered with but you had the power at the tip of your fingers and he took it away. Not only that, he took it away without saying that the simple fact , those were his problems not yours. Because you are a master piece.
You are a work of art.
He was the one that chose not to open his eyes.
 Dec 2016 EJ Aghassi
Myemail
Carried sorrow her brow.
Unnoticeable till now.
Sadness dulls her features.
Misunderstood creature.
Framing within life.
Violent as knife.
Actions less planned.
Make no more stand.
Time for rest.
Deeply guessed.
Pain flows.
Tears show.
Pawn.
Gone.
When words hurt, they come out as incomplete statements sometimes.
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