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When its sharp it storms the mind,
swirls of smoke & hate combined-
slither insidiously they entwine,
damage done worse every time.
Clouds to crave- poison waves
seen through white glass & a delirious daze
to dull forever an old sun's rays
light which used to shine out always
now bends inward, refracting in ways
to disguise & confuse in an camouflaged haze.

more & more & more & more
of the curse that never ends,
be it smoke or crystal spore
or snake disguised as friend.
I feel it deep within my core
I desperately pretend
you'll be back to fuel me or
a hand someone will lend.
 Feb 2017 Ignatius Hosiana
Ana S
I used to pray for death.
Little did I know I hadn't lived yet.
I was never alive.
Never saw the light.
Now I decided to live.
But it may be the end.
So instead I mope around.
Dragging my feet on the ground.
Emotions overwhelming.
Thoughts over bearing.
the woods are moist with the fever of fear
suckling the after thoughts of speech
spit out without regard
for the crickets venturing to sing
or the widening of the streams
strong with neglect of the rusting branches touching tip to tip

(but) this is what we are, a forest
I'm 18
Where am I in this life
I was 14
I knew where I was heading
I'm like a tidal wave
The ocean
Nuances of blue and black
Calm before the storm
Raging in different directions
Every single way
I'm able to go in all directions.
The sun sets behind my horizon
The wind is blowing
Taking me east
Now west
Calm before the storm.
She's my puppet, hopeless figure bound to me.
Pull this string that string make the ***** dance
She'll always do what I ask.
Like a marionette I hooked her by faking it pretending
I'd marry her...NOT.

If she doesn't do what I ask I'll just hurl her in a corner
back her into her room till she's wishing for a coroner.
Laugh at her pain, make sure I twist every emotion she has to be about me. I'm her puppet master. No I'm her master.
Pull this string that string make the ***** dance.

You almost died giving me a son? Sorry puppet you're still a *****. This pay check no puppet it's not for you. Baby doesn't have diapers well the master doesn't have what he needs. That's right don't you dare object.
Pull this string that string make the ***** dance.

What do you think you're doing puppet you can't live without these strings. Get back here yeah that's right you Cant Understand Normal Thinking. You try to leave puppet and master will take everything. Where ever you go puppet I'll still be your master that's right no matter what I can...

Pull this string that string make the ***** dance.
The only time worth

My time is the time I write

Dreams– hopes– come to life
A senryu I wrote few days ago.
Nursing my secret longings
I lie awake in the wee hours of the night
Mind restless, like a caged bird, craving redemption
My thoughts journeying through time and space

I recognize a thousand appetites
Still waiting to be appeased!
Sadly there isn’t time enough
To realize what I really crave.

It is in the stillness of the night
When sleep deserts the eyes
That mind derails its track
And wanders like an aimless vagabond

Though rooted firmly on the ground
At times, I feel, I lose my bearings
How I longed to paint my sky
In garish colors and shades!
    
I wonder if the scales of my life’s balance
Lean more to gains or losses now!
There was a time when hope ruled the roost
And I heard love’s soft whispers all around!

Now I am unable to precisely tell
What my mind craves and pines
But this much I know for certain
I am becoming worn and old

Years have so quickly skipped past me
With youth and beauty sapped away
Leaving life an exhausted well
With the dregs remaining at the bottom

My eyesight has waned, the earlier lustre gone
My once supple knees have started to creak
And the muscles, begun to sag  
I feel as vulnerable as a foetus in the womb

Pain grows with years
As a smudge deepens into an erasable stain
I am no wizard to call back all that have left
But listen to their ‘long, melancholy, withdrawing roar’

No more springing steps
And a fast fading cortex
Still I stretch myself
To catch at Hope, winging away!
stealing other poet's poems
is so rampant and rife
looters will attest to the works
being of their original life*

with a swag of online poetry sites
used by plagiarists plundering
no poet's heart and soul efforts
are dismissed from the sundering

pilfers of verse ever busy themselves
they're such industrious thieving elves

should they take a fond liking
for what you've written
they'll stow your wonderful lines
in a crook's mitten

copyright and true possession
of materials you've produced
get no attention from they who've
a penchant for something re-produced

under our radar they
do the wicked deed
could be said they are
*so unethical of creed
you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him traveling away from you in his dreams
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.

— For Women Who Are Difficult to Love
#youtried #depression #prettier
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