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 Aug 2014 The Quiet Poet
Styles
Beautiful - is her.
Can't explain, or compare; her beauty.
These words, this world lacks.
For her,
my passion,
Burns fire.
With desire,
My heart attacks.
As our opposites,
will attract.
Just in time
Too react;
Two eyes,
Making contact.
Bright-eyes,
Meet their match
Love at first sight,
I just sigh,
as I imagine that.
Please don't get me wrong.
I appreciate what you are trying to do,
but you don't send salt and pepper to a starving nation.
I've been dealing with assault of the mind
and inflammation of the soul
in a way no whole-wheat diet or
heartburn medication could ever fix.
I've got all these little tips
and all these little tricks
for how to fold anger up like an origami crane
until it looks somewhat like a punchline.
The flaw in the design of this art
is that no matter how many were made
they couldn't cure Sadako's leukemia.

Perhaps it's an ongoing theme in my work
to shirk all these lies I've been told.
To mold the past into a weapon
to harpoon the future with like a humpback whale.
But I've watched razors sail
across the surface of my skin like a hundred tiny boats
and while I'm making my way in this sink-or-float Earth,
I still have the spirituality
to make a penny feel like more than what it's worth.

I can't make your life having meaning.
I can't give you the feeling you get
on that 999th paper crane,
but I spend my whole life trying to catch
thunder in a wine bottle.
It's just a noise,
and it exists only ringing in the ears
of frightened children
and bringing the tears of overjoyed children
in Africa.
Here I lay
On my bed
My fortress of sweet solitude
Absent from reality
To insinuate myself into a dream
To make up for the comfort I am deprived of
The blank darkness equally pleasant
Just to attain this moment of positivity
All possible
When I lay here on my bed
 Aug 2014 The Quiet Poet
Wanderer
I spent last night consoling you
Your hurt flooding Kleenex after Kleenex
Make a mess, don't spare a thought
We ladies must stick together
When the arms that should protect us
Raise in anger
That is not the love of a man
That is the insecurity of a coward
In the dark, lost
You do not need more shadows
Keep on shining pretty girl
I'll be your mirror
To Brittany. Last night was rough but you survived. I hope you come into your own and realize that love does not have to be painful or a game of using. You deserve to be loved the way YOU want to be loved.
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