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 Nov 2013 jessika michele
Guss
The reflection of stars dusts your pupils.
Photons of quantum light are what I see
when look into your eyes.
I find that pretty amazing.
The distance of our gazing
flowing off into infinity.
With a trinity of futures
our souls are always glowing.
But the hypostases with you
are the only ones worth knowing.

*I bless the day I met you,
I bless the universe for making you,
and I worship you to the very core
of every atom in your body.
She rides on the back of a electric blue dragon
the beautiful green eyed princess of rage
her indifference to the hearts of men
give cold comfort to those she left an age.

She will drive her lance of love through any armour
penetrating deep to the inner core of your emotions
making cold mockery of all your hopes and fears
this beautiful princess of rage, your fall is her devotion.

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka Neonsolaris
Get the girl,
don't let her slip away.
Let her love you,
kiss you,
hug you,
just don't let her get away.

She is the world,
the stars and the sun,
everything in one,
the only one who can get you to crack a grin on that cemented face of yours.

The moon comes out at night,
and shines glowing beams of light,
and it reflects in her beautiful eyes.

She can make you,
and she can break you,
but most importantly,
she will take you,
far, far away.
To places you've never known,
never seen,
and all in between.

But in the end,
she will break you.
Take your heart and tear it apart.
She will bring you to your knees,
have you begging please,
and in the moonlit night,
under a starry sky,
she will walk away.

And in this moment,
your heart will harden,
lock up,
and become stone.

She will make you feel broken,
an empty shell of a man,
when in reality,
she is the creator,
of a brand new soul.

When you shrivel up inside,
and feel like you're not alive,
remember the good times.

Remember the love,
the laughs,
the life you shared.
There are no words to describe the pain of heartbreak,
but one thing can describe it,
you are no longer a child.

Before you can truly love,
you must lose.

So go get the girl.
Love her,
kiss her,
hug her,
and when the time comes,
let her go.
Like a butterfly,
let her roam,
and always know,
she is the one who opened the doors to your heart,
and open your eyes to a world of love before you.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
 Nov 2013 jessika michele
LS
My heart grows restless for him
missing his caress
and false saccharine words
singing his song was a melancholy old tune
I had known oh so well
Kisses I had felt
still pressed to my lips
Hands had held me
still comfort me in their ghosts
Nothing left to deny
Warm brown eyes
never to look at me again
Blond hair
never for my touch again
restless I feel,
missing him and his old hurt
stuck in my dreams of him
and his smile
I'm restless,
Addiction doesn't go away somehow
All my life I had to fight
A reference from a movie
But when you win the fight the loser always tries to shoot me
Momma taught me to do right
No need for a gunshot
To get away from the cold streets I developed a jumpshot
But the thing is this road traveled greatly
Taught myself how to shoot but without dribbling I traveled greatly
No indoor courts forced to practice in the cold
In another neighborhood my actions rather bold
All that practicing in the rain made my skills so good
Until they rolled up with intentions that were no good
They asked me who I was and why I was on their block
I tried to ignore but out their coat it was a glock
Here I am in mid jumpshot
The next thing I heard was one gunshot
I'm hit, shot in the back on the leg
Thinking I was dead
Thanking god for not being shot in the head
They thought I was dead too so they up and left
And I'm laying trying to breathe panicing and ******* breath
How was I suppose to ball with a hole in my leg
All I could think about was the day before
How coach told me I would start and how he wanted me to score
But a bullet wound forced me to sit out
Didn't want to play professional just wanted to get out
It must be hard
If you're not depressed
To understand the difficulty
Of just getting dressed
It must be hard
If you don't starve
To imagine winter woollens
Hats, gloves and scarves
In the summer.
It must be hard
If you don't ***** your food
To understand the waste
Once it's been swallowed and chewed
It must be heard
If you don't hear voices
To imagine
Someone else
Dictating your choices
It must be hard
If you don't have compulsions
To understand the urge
The panic and convulsions
Of just saying no.
It must be hard
If you don't have an attachment
To a narcotic or a bottle
To understand how it can
Throttle you, to just one more hit.
It must be hard,
If you don't cut at your wrists
To understand
How someone could do this.
It must be hard
If you don't suffer highs and lows
To understand how quickly
Such a feeling, comes and goes
As it pleases.
It must be hard
If you've never had a chemical imbalance
In your brain
Or a contributing factor, a stressful event
To understand the insane.

It's not like a broken leg,
A sprained wrist, the flu
Where someone can easily
Treat and diagnose you.
It's not something that just goes away
And I'm not trying to say
That everyone doesn't understand
I'm just lending a hand,
To those who struggle
To make sense
Of the dents in our thinking
The depths that we're sinking
The vacant eyes that are blinking
As we're thrown around inside
Our own minds.

2013 ©
Again a first draft, will revisit later.
One warm, peaceful, night at a bar down the street,
I ran into an elderly man
who's uncountable wrinkles and scars,
told the stories of one thousand men.
some of sorrow and some of joy
As I took to the creaky stool next to him,
he blew out a puff of smoke from his cigarette.
his fingers curled around the smoke,
almost like he was trying to grasp it
like he had let go of too many things in his long past,
and letting go of one more, even something as meaningless as cigarette smoke,
may have pushed him over the edge.

Next his eyes caught mine,
he leaned over and handed me a rose,
"deliver this to my wife." he whispered
"she's ill and I do not travel well"
"I have not admired her beauty in quite some time."

He was different and mysterious,
but that only intrigued me more,
I nodded and took the rose,
attached was a address and a room number:
Saint Anne's Hospital

Upon arriving at the room,
to my shock there was no one there!
just thousands of thousands of roses
and a note that read:
R.I.P to my beloved 1920-1963

Fifty years later and some how this crazy old man had never given up hope.
Not once.
Not on his wife,
or the love he had for her.
We all could use a little of him in our lives.
meh
 Nov 2013 jessika michele
Jay
It's okay to leave your makeup on overnight sometimes,
Especially when you stumble through your front door at 3 am after forgetting to kiss the man who took you out goodbye
It's okay to wear the same pants two days in a row,
Especially after you've taken 4 finals, written 6 essays, and did a 13 page paper about the KKK.
It's okay to have a crush on the boy everyone else thinks is wierd,
Especially when he likes you back and your love makes him want to be a successful person for you when you grow up together
It's okay to cry,
Especially when your father disappeared just after avoiding a diabetic coma, do not let your mother tell you it's not.
It's okay to think you're pretty,
Especially if the other girls say you aren't (You are stunning)
Its okay to feel weak,
Especially when you're burdened with the weight of what feels like the world.
It's okay to let him tell you be loves you,
Especially when he means it
It's okay to LOVE YOURSELF,
Especially when you feel worthless.
It is okay,
When you think it isn't, read this poem,
Everything is okay,
You have to believe it will be okay,
Especially when it isn't
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