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 May 2019 hypnopunk
vern
we are tied to our fates with a thin red string
they are strung to our love, destiny, and death.
the young man who lost his lover
is fated to fall for another.
the new mother who holds her child
is fated for a beautiful destiny she cannot imagine.
the person sitting alone on the bench
is fated to lose his life to someone.
none of these people can see where their strings go
they live as if there are no red strings tied to their fingers
and attached to the sky.
only the watcher of our fate can see these red strings.
she grieves for the some of the strings
the saddest lives are the smallest
smiles for other strings
she sees those who will have full lives
and she sighs
the watcher cannot see her own strings
unlike the others, she is not ignorant of fate.
she is aware of fate, embraces fate,
but she does not know her own fate
was she destined for eminence, luster
was she destined for a lover, a heart
was she destined for death, sooner rather than later
she will never know
the burden of the knowledge of the red strings
weighs her down
she does not have a fate, a love, a destiny, a death.
For she is the watcher of the red strings of fate
and only the watcher of the red strings of fate.
I've loved the concept that there is some invisible red string that ties you to your soulmate. However, I wanted to reimagine it as something that ties you to any fate you have. Sometimes I feel like I am the watcher of the red strings. It's just a sense of hopelessness and emptiness that maybe I won't amount to anything or will be enough for anyone. That's a lot of emotion, but I hope you still enjoy this poem.
 May 2019 hypnopunk
Lily
I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.
 May 2019 hypnopunk
Stu Harley
oh
lord
i
hear
the
ghost-flute
being
played
near
thy
grave
and
the sound
ripples
through
thy soul
 May 2019 hypnopunk
kadence
my head
is up in the stars,
and my soul
is spoiled
in an overgrown garden.
the flowers
and the vines
surround me,
keeping me grounded
to the earth
because my overgrown garden
is afraid
that if she lets me go,
then my head
will go to war
with my soul.
and my overgrown garden
is afraid
that if she tries to defy
the stars,

she will lose.
 Apr 2019 hypnopunk
Mikaila
The day you got your hair cut
I went to a lesbian bar after work.
It was 3
And I was tired
But I went straight there
Because I had to do something.
I knew it was a lost cause before I even got there.
The back of my neck was prickling with tension
With fear
Because I knew I was too late.
Somewhere in the depths of my soul
My free will was on a gurney,
Cold.
But I couldn’t help it-
I needed to feel like I had control,
So I went inside.
People were dancing.
None of them held themselves the way you do
Like a marble statue that has set down axe and shield and stepped off the plinth for a brief rest
(You will be returning to battle shortly-
After you fix your eyeliner.)

I did a shot
Because that’s what you do.
They were free- *** on the Beach.
I sat there,
Wondering why the fact that you named your cat Heathcliff as a child meant that I had to love you.

I decided that I needed something stronger in the way of alcohol.

A girl with soft brown eyes and long hair came up to me.
Her name was Tiffany.
She wasn’t clever like you
And her voice
Wasn’t low and rough like yours
But she told me I was pretty.
I already knew, but I thanked her.
I felt nothing.
She wasn’t interesting
Or funny
Or smart.
She was attractive- beautiful even, I suppose,
And maybe she was kind.
She bought me a drink,
And mistook my sadness for shyness.
As I answered her questions I was afraid your name would fall from my lips like a seed
Take root and grow up through the floorboards.
Nothing she said changed me, nothing I said back changed me,
And my thoughts kept snagging on you
Tearing and unraveling.
I needed you out of my head.
She was looking at me with big eyes
And I suppose they were compelling
But they weren’t yours-
Rimmed with black, hypnotic and stormy at times, sparkling with mischief at others,
Forever changing and forever captivating,
Windows to a soul I fiercely wish I knew-
They were just eyes, and maybe they were vulnerable
Or curious
Or sweet.
I kissed her so that I could stop looking into them
And not seeing you there.
Her lips tasted like nothing.
I closed my eyes and kissed her harder,
Hoping for a reason to forget you.

We were beautiful, I knew that.
I could feel eyes on us-
Two small, lovely women
Tangled on the dance floor under the lights
Fingers in each other’s hair-
We must have looked
Just like lovers.

I searched for a way out of my feelings for you.
I kissed her for a long time, until we were both gasping.
I found nothing.
In my frustration I pulled her head back,
Bit her lip
Pressed my fingers hard into the back of her neck
And I felt her lust
But not mine.
It was nice to be wanted
But not nice enough.
I wanted to hurt her for touching me
For not being you
So I pulled away
And kissed her cheek gently
My hands beneath her jaw.
“Wow,” she said.
I couldn’t look at her.
That tenderness wasn’t hers
But it didn’t matter.
I kissed her hands
In penance disguised as sweetness.
Suddenly all the anger was gone from me
And I felt desolate.

That night I walked home with my head buzzing.
I wasn’t drunk,
I was sober as hell
Head pounding with thoughts of you.
I hated it.
I hate it.
Somehow I fell into this feeling
And I’ve been fighting not to drown ever since.
When I look at you
I feel everything I wish I’d felt while I was kissing her
And more
That I sometimes wish I’d never feel again.
Sometimes I think you see it.
Sometimes I know I cover for it badly.
Sometimes, when you’re suddenly present
Like the sun has turned on just for me
And then distant later
Like the sea at night
I think you know I already love you.
Maybe you hate it like I hate it.
Maybe you worship it like I worship it.
Maybe you fear it
And I don’t blame you.
A storm presses out against my skin when I look at you
And I’m surprised no chaos seeps through.
My bones hum with it
My heartbeat reaching like thunder into my fingers.

I’ll probably never kiss you
And maybe that’s for the best
Because even being near you makes me feel like I’m falling from somewhere high up.
If I kissed you, I’d feel everything, I’m sure of it-
Everything there is to feel
And it would end me
And I would be grateful.

I wonder if you ever see that in my eyes.
That fear, that longing, that shame and joy.
A love and loathing so intense it scalds.
‘I can’t believe I’m here again,’
It pounds through my veins.
‘I can’t believe I love another person
Who is always looking elsewhere.’

Just know, if you ever discover how I feel
That I tried to **** it.
I looked at this beautiful feeling
A feeling you could pray before like an altar
A feeling you could whisper into like a temple- barefoot and cold with wonder- and hear your soul echo back,
I looked at the sacred piece of humanity that had suddenly risen in my heart like a hymn
And I tried to silence it-
I tried hard-
So that you would never have to fear it.

I failed. It lives.
It took root in me, and whenever I speak your name little harsh flowers push their way up through the concrete under my feet, sending cracks out like jagged spiderwebs.
They bloom like wounds.
They kiss the sky.
And, slowly,
They are crumbling this city to dust.
Title is a quote from Milton’s Paradise Lost, spoken by Lucifer.
 Apr 2019 hypnopunk
Anne Curtin
It was summer, about a hundred years ago, and
I was 13, sitting next to my mother over the Atlantic.
Inside  the darkened plane the piolet's voice
interrupted sleep.

   "Folks, I know it's late, but if you look out your windows
     you will see something amazing."

I opened  the shade and found we had flown into
dazzling lights, shimmering colors - dancing, gliding,
whirling to the music we could not hear.

And then it was over. My mother slipped back into sleep
while I watched the  stars, listened to the hum
of the engines, as we headed home.
 Apr 2019 hypnopunk
fiachra breac
soaring peacefully,
far above our heads.

you keen and dive,
move and shake,
you dance.

careful now -
don't let go,
keep the string firm in your grasp

she is strong,
and she pulls hard -
lifting us up from our feet.

o! to be a ribbon,
fluttering in your breeze,
swirling and twirling beneath
your gaze.

o! to feel the tug
of that thin white line,
wrenching us forward,
dragging us on -

tied to the pit of my stomach,
you yank what's left of my insides out
 Apr 2019 hypnopunk
Claire
railroad
 Apr 2019 hypnopunk
Claire
you get so used to something;
to someone;
never expect them to abandon you
though you condoned their departure

you saw it coming

it was all experienced yesterday
except, then
it was only a distant speck
you brushed away the dust you kicked up and
ignored the arguments that weighed on your conscience

you saw it coming

yet it still hits you like a freight train
with your back to it;
your earphones in
because you were trying to enjoy a walk
on such dangerous tracks;
such thin ice

you saw it coming

so what choice do you now have
but to finally collapse;
to let it run you over
and let your
omniscient bones
break?

you saw it coming,
but you let it hit you anyway.


please, get out of the way next time.
september thoughts, november reality
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