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 Aug 2013 jay reynolds
yornikan
I felt used
like an object
more like a doorknob
one that was unable to project
I've had hands on me
turned without complain
left open to all
too many time to drive me insane
now all the screws have been uncorked
and I can only adjust for one last pull
I'm left alone
left to be alone and forever dull

z.s
everyone
                                                                ­    has
       different
ways
                            of coping
                 mine
                                                     seems to be
   a type
                     or
                                        form
         of
                             shutting
                  d
                                    ­                                   o
      w
                                           n
                                                               ­                                                                i create brick walls
                                                           ­                                                                 ­   to hide myself
                                                          ­                                                                 ­    when i'm scared
                                                          ­                                                                 ­    or too vulnerable
                                                      ­                                                                 ­        to handle what's going on
                                                              ­                                                                 and i hide myself
                                                          ­                                                                 ­    under a veil
                                                            ­                                                                 ­  of a strong person
                                                          ­                                                                 ­    when really
                                                          ­                                                                 ­    i'm still crying
                                                          ­                                                                 ­    not too far down
before the wall
came down,
there were lines
12 hours long
for bread and kielbasa;

and nuclear warheads raced
rhetoric east to west,
and back,
and rhetoric won...

I sat on a train
westbound,
idling on the left side
of the border

the 'gestapos' stormed aboard
with their black leather boots
knee-high;
stern angled faces
missing smiles;
eyes of winter
and steel,
unblinking....blue,
sending chills through
and through

'you,' he said
pointing at me

his open fist
flipping the universal
'come here' signal...

60 minutes later
he conceded...
reluctantly...

the 15-year old
black face smiling
in the mug shot
on my passport

was indeed....me

not some ****** student
trying to flee
the misery
behind those curtains

to freedom...

without walls 12-feet high
topped by razor-edged rolls
of barbed wire;

without food lines
12-hours long;

where choice
and opportunity
know no bounds...

~ P (Pablo)
(8/7/2013)
 Aug 2013 jay reynolds
August
If you roam around my house,
              look about,
        up & down,
                           you'll find many paper cranes.

When I feel empty, I make so many,
                     and leave them random places.

You can find them here,
                and there,
          pretty much everywhere,
                              lined up on window panes.

I never felt the need to gather them,
                      and I most likely never will.

If I put them all together,
                 made sure it was forever,
           they could withstand the weather,
                             and there would be a thousand.
              
They say with a thousand cranes,
                       a wish is granted in your favor.

But I have no wishes,
               so I'll sleep with the fishes,
           after my hands tremble to the point of refrain
                                  & I can no longer make anymore paper cranes.
Amara Pendergraft 2013
 Aug 2013 jay reynolds
Traveler
Was it ever real
The magic I used to feel
Tears fill my tired eyes
Perhaps magic was but a lie…

Music melts my fragile heart
But only to a hardened part
That place I use to hide
Until the storm would pass me by

I wish I’d never come to know
These realizations have laid me low

Ignorance is bliss – so alive in myths
Imagination is alive – don’t let it pass you by

If it were in my power
It would all be real
That is
All the magic I used to feel
Rained-on Traveler
 Aug 2013 jay reynolds
Dag J
vague
 Aug 2013 jay reynolds
Dag J
vacant mind keeping its distance in search for
answers without questions while living up to
gauzy expectations of peaceful endings to all
uneasinss as the duration of life elongates into
elements of squalidly uplifting surprises
---
or... daydreaming while waiting for the answers
to the questions that are cornered by squares
right down to the rectangeled circles of blue notes

— The End —