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 May 2015 Jade Valentine
Rockie
I can hear it popping.
Feel the heat pressing against my fragile fingertips.
Wanting to escape.
Wanting to be free.
The fire crackles:
The wood has been eaten away.
Most of it.
One piece refuses to split in half.
Like lovers, they cling on to each other,
Unaware of the danger engulfing them,
Burning them,
Splitting them apart.
Still, they refuse to let go.
This world is split.
There are people who believe in equality,
But they seem to be the minority.
There are people who believe their way is right,
Their traditional views are causing fights,
There are some people who don't care,
Others are unaware,
Despite the millions desperate for,
If nothing else, acknowledgement or,
Maybe one day something more.

But first, an end to the fear,
The irrational belief that when things appear,
Tough, it's the fault of those you don't agree with,
The ones who, maybe, just want to be with,
The person they love without taking,
The blame for everything making,
This ******* Earth weep,
When floods or disasters sweep,
Guess whose fault it is?
The he who fell in love with his smile,
Or the she who wants to carry her child.

Perhaps one day no one will protest,
Because he decided to wear a dress,
Or she chose to confess,
That despite her body she is a woman,
In a world where gender is defined by day one,
It seems unthinkable that his body is wrong,
But why does it matter to anyone else?
Just let her be a girl and keep your judgement to yourself.
Better still stop judging at all,
Because we're all human, it's not your call.

Attitudes are changing,
And talking to the next generation is uplifting,
Because there's a co-operative feeling,
Of acceptance.

It's just a matter of convincing everyone else.
Human rights are for all.
 May 2015 Jade Valentine
Jack S
It lies in my blood stream

Flowing slowly though my veins

cloudy vision, thick blood, to my heart it pertains.



Following the path as if set in stone,

haunting me to the core,

haunting me to the bone.



My hearts been palpitating since the moment we met,

since that first gentle touch, and that kiss of death.



But I’ll suffer an eternity if it’ll feel like this,

You’re my lovely poison, my toxic bliss.
 May 2015 Jade Valentine
Rockie
When your true soul mate is near,
The world becomes more beautiful,
The colours more vibrant,
And it seems that everything will be ok.

When your true soul mate strays afar,
The world becomes more ugly,
The colours more dull,
And it seems that everything will be different.

When your true soul mate has passed away,
The world becomes more depressing,
The colours more black and white,
And it seems that everything will be breaking.

When your true soul mate comes back to keep you company,
The world becomes more manageable,
The colours more tinted and full of life,
And it seems that everything will be alright once more.
 May 2015 Jade Valentine
Rockie
Please. Pull the trigger, why don't you?
Become a murderer. A sinner.
A criminal.
People will spit upon you in the street,
Their hardly masked disgust wizened old men.
Are you really that willing?
So go on.
**Pull the **** trigger.
Long ago that day
A song crawled in my ear
Kissing the sunset in a pray
The sweetest sweetest one you could hear.

Better than at a breaking dawn
Farewelling the sun
Awn and awn
It folded my heart as the horizon run
Out of light of the drowning spot
There was something different
It was a melancholy strain, a lot.

The beautiful waves
Warped my tears
Pulling my legs
Closer to itself for me to clearly hear.

Blindly my way was made
By the voice my conscience afore-bade
When it first pricked my ears
With a farewell so beautiful,
So sad it brought out my tears,
To the shine going cuticle
'Tis a song better than at dawn
I hoped it went awn and awn and awn.

At the tip of mount
She sat
Knees on ground
Her beautiful lips suddenly spat
Infuriating tone cursing the winds
It wasn't a song it was a chit-chat
With someone for her heart stings.

Familiar her tone was
Long ago described by my mother
The old singer knelt down was
Someone whose tale had shuddered
My heart, my soul
This old lady
Once in a baby princess's role
Now sitting in dark shady
Sunset, was crying and wailing at them
Who destroyed her as they blasphemed
Her holy euphoria,
Her only joyful memoria.

The night darkens
And the story flashes
Of no Romeo no Juliet in their pretty garden,
But countless stars beating hardens
Not life of two but the whole universe
Let me start it with a violent verse....

(continued in Chapter 2)
I am writing a ballad which would have chapter/parts. I hope you like them.
 May 2015 Jade Valentine
Lex
Broken
 May 2015 Jade Valentine
Lex
whenever I try to write poetry, I have a tendency to make things more minuscule than they really are.

I don't let my true colors show in fear that someone may notice how I really am feeling.

Because I like to convince myself that I'm fine. I convince myself that I'm better than I was two years ago.

And maybe I am. Maybe this is as happy as I'm going to get. That is, if happiness means having anxiety attacks at parties or crying over the small flaws of my day.


Happiness might also be letting people use me and reject me. If that's what happiness is, then I'm over the moon.

Face the facts. I'm talking to you. And me. And everyone in between.

Broken.

Notice I didn't say "I'm broken." Or "you're broken." Or "we're broken."

That's because it's for you to decide. You have to be true to yourself.

Broken.
I'm going to write
about my pain
I know
you'll not read it.
For it is
so much
unbearable
that reading it
gives you torture.

You'll want
to comfort me
to hug me
to encourage me
but you can't.
because I'm just
someone
you pity and
you really don't care.
There's a place in her mind
where he can not reach,
no matter how deep
his longing goes.
Her form lies with his
but her closed eyes are
drinking in worlds
he never could,
no matter how much
he thirsts.
She's breathing in
ethereal elements
his lungs will never know,
because she is his dreamer.
;
If I had to describe myself,
I would say...

I'm not just the 50+ scars
from blood-stained razors
on my left arm;

I'm not just the countless tears
I cried when I pleaded
with your deity;

I am ";"

";" is never-ending.

I am ;
because my story doesn't end here.

I am ;
because I am forever evolving.

...so until
"."
arrives,
I am ;
This is probably my most simplistic piece but ironically one of my most inspirational once you understand the concept of the semi-colon. I got the idea from http://hellopoetry.com/takemeaway/ (Alexia Cousineau).
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