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I am no poet, yet I write poems.
I am no writer, yet I write stories.
I am no hippy, yet I believe in world peace.
I am no politician, yet I have my opinions.
I am no god, yet I create.
 Mar 2015 Helen Crews
ylruceiram
It started ugly, but ended beautifully;
Started as a small hideous caterpillar, but ended with a pretty butterfly;
Started as strangers, but ended as lovers;
Started as a tiny bean, but ended with a giant tree;
Started with war, but ended with peace;

**Some things just start as nothing but will end up with something.
The night flopped over the chimney tops
and dripped from the guttering as
the day broke through in spots
I could hear the house martins sing.

The radio sizzled, the
bacon crackled,
on the range was a pan
full of porridge from the
morning before.

Boots by the door which were itching to go
everything's slow when you want to go fast but
at last we were out on the last day of the world,(a
game that we played where zombies were real and
they were coming for us to make of us a meal)

Each day is a  bonus where the onus to be, is
the King of all castles, the Queen of all seas and
to seize with both hands the hands of all friends.
The day ends with a call from,
Mother, you know,
everything goes fast when it ought to go slow.
 Mar 2015 Helen Crews
ShamusDeyo
Everytime I hear No, its always .......MY FAULT
As the Brain drags me down this train of illogic
Anxiety Loops in unending Circles Spun to the Tragic
What can go wrong, then to feel like.......
Life has ***** me, And why is it always my Fault

The FIST FLEW out of Nowhere, Sucker punched*
Slow motion falling as a..........
Childs head bounces off the ground
Awaking to throbbing Pain,
My Pants around my Knees,
And why is it always my Fault..

For those who know what I mean
Others can't know what we've seen
Even if Its both Bad and Yucky
*Childhood is for the lucky..........JMF  9/28/14
I did a revision of an earlier Piece...

I realized I never had a childhood
Weak and broken, lost inside myself,
Scared and alone, basically dead inside,
All these things running through my head,
Who am I? Why am I here? Why am I alive?
Am I even important? To anyone? To anything?
I struggled to find the answer,
Slowly along the way, drowning my demons,
Fighting my fears, meeting myself,
Simply knowing,
Helping the ones who have been hurt like me,
Forgetting the ones who never wanted me,
Cutting myself free from the grasps of the darkness inside,
But I have a stiffening fear I will be back someday,
As I finally stand in the sun again,
But I'm different now,
And the fear melts away,
As I finally walk free of the chains that once scarred my wrists,
My hollow body, heart, mind, soul, fills once more with joy,
And I stop to think, why now? Why here?
But I realize now, the reason for it,
I am content with myself and who I am...
After everything I've been through,
I'm stronger, stronger as a person,
Along this journey I made a friend,
Myself,
And I am good enough for me, and that's all I ever really needed.
 Mar 2015 Helen Crews
Britt
Your intoxicating gaze makes me drunk with desire
Kissing my mouth with your warm supple lips
Pulling me in closer
I feel your hands on my hips  and I ache for more

You are mine for the taking and I greedily take what you offer
I fill up from your physical touch
Satisfyingly so
I turn to find you in another world unable to keep away

You let out a satisfying sigh before you rise from my side
I hear a low murmur of hunger pangs and know I'm not enough
To keep you full
You leave me alone to satisfy your greed for her hyperbole
 Feb 2015 Helen Crews
LJ Chaplin
Inject me,
Pierce the skin
And it let it merge
With blood cells and
Bacardi,
Press your lips against mine
And slip the pill onto my tongue,
Don't pull away until each grain
dissolves
Stacks of cash
From selling love in bottles,
Capsules,
IV drips,
Losing our minds as we
Become entangled in unconsciousness.

But when I wake up you're gone.
Sweaty palms,
Goosebumps,
The fear of relinquishing control,
Or even losing my mind?
We become addicted to the visions
In our head,
The dreams we steal from dark corners
Of the brain
When we are intoxicated,
Yet with each passing of time
We rely on what numbs the pain
Of what we lost.
Once I held you in my arms,
I loved you in my sleep,
above the traffic
and the circumstance,
above the slaughter of the sheep.

You made me sing at my guitar,
a grown man falling to defeat.
Now I cannot find The Answer
in the company I keep.

The game is rigged, we know it is,
in a hustler's *******,
the bank cartels
and corn-fed chicken
descend upon the weak.

I held you in my arms
on a precipice brave and steep,
above the breadlines
and the cannibals,
above the slaughter of the sheep.

You have me writing poetry
about landscapes left unseen,
you kissed the addict on the mouth
and now he's looking to get clean.

But the day is long, you know it is,
forgive me for sounding bleak,
a sucker for
those sad, sad songs,
and that chemical retreat.

I am not working on perfection
in a lifetime stretched and brief,
but I am working on a promise
that for once,
I intend to keep.

See, I've got a knack for giving up,
for feigning inner peace,
I've had my fill of oil spills
and the slaughter of the sheep.

You've felt it too, that burdened love,
the dead-end of familiar streets,
you lay down with him,
habitual ease;
lilac skin now a slab of meat.

The dignitaries come,
the friends you have to meet,
a compromise of ancient ties,
amongst the ******
and the thief.

Words are falling fast for you,
though I lack the skill to piece
all the fragments you paint for me
in this temple of disease.

The race is run, you know it is,
a pace we couldn't keep,
our lungs are full
of cigarettes,
our tongues of old deceit.

The Lie is out amongst the crowds,
but I have no time for war and peace;
I am slipping into
my lover's robe,
into your twisted sheets.

Once I held you in my arms,
I loved you in my sleep,
this wolf's disguise,
those bells that chime
at the slaughter of the sheep.
A spoken word piece. I think it works better when you read as you listen:

https://soundcloud.com/edwardcoles/the-slaughter-of-the-sheep
 Feb 2015 Helen Crews
NuurSeraph
I gaze outwards, hoping to eye
the secret source of my amazement...

Such a subtle notion to be keenly aware of
my concentration whispering soft to me
like wonder washing over the clear eyes of a child.

Standing in the midst of a wild garden,
lost in thoughts and knee-high daffodils
rising to the occasion,
pacing the breeze in celebration
of concentric release and liberation.

The tone of my attention flows outwards
drifting in the vortical tumble
of wisping moments and spiral smiles
only a kissing kind of nature could spin
so effortlessly across the dusky horizon’s curving finesse.

Propelled into the Painter’s portrait of stars swept canvas
sweeping over my vision with the image
of the wonder-washed child standing in a garden,
gazing outwards from the picture quietly searching
for the secret source of her amazement…
..and I wonder if she sees me gazing back at her?
 Feb 2015 Helen Crews
Miki
1.
Lips
Hold my hips
Losing grip
And if your hand
slips
I wont
Complain.

2.
Eyes
Social ties
Alabis
Darkerlies
Matching
the darkness
Of your eyes

3.
Hands
Hear the bands
Making us dance
And sing
Together
Roaming, finding
Break the wall dividing
Touching
Until
Wevare
Numb

4.
Thighs
Drawing eyes
Revealing lies
Holding
Virtue.
Fingers graze
Mind in a haze
The final
Step
Is

5.
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