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 Jan 2012 Jurgen
Odi
Pressure
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
Odi
They tell me I'm great
And that I''ll go far
Because I posses such "intelligence"
For someone so young
I say Ive known greater
Ive known smarter
And the acid eating away at my insides
Is a direct result of all
your expectations
That I wont meet
And that test I'll fail on Friday
And all the teachers I'll let down
A doctor's daughter
The family of academics
That somehow bred a writers soul
A so called "artist"
However intellectual
I cannot do this
I cannot
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
Warren Gossett
I suppose the secret to happiness
as we grow older is living to enjoy
each day, not the sum of all our days.
If we tally the days, the years, it becomes
a cumbersome affair and we begin
to labor under its unyielding weight.

--
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
Jellyfish
You are an illness,
my infection, my lie.
I think I might love you
but hate, still I try.

You are my poison,
my escape, my release.
I ask you to take me
for at last I'm at peace.

You blinded my heart
with both hate and corruption!
Why say that you love me?
Why face such destruction.

But no I can't have you,
you're not mine to take.
Yet still as I see you;
it's but my heart that does ache.
My first poem I ever wrote, ever. This was actually a homework my English teacher set on a whim, she told us all to write a love poem and bring it the next lesson to read it out, just for the hell of it. Needless to say people arrived and read out their poems about how fantastically beautiful someone was or how deeply they were in love with them, so I wrote this, I focused on the darker side of love. People really liked it though, so I decided to keep writing and this is where my poetry story begins, I was either late 15 or early 16 at the time of writing.
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
Molly Greenhood
I am from a golden coast,
an opera house of mammoth white sails
and salt for air.

I am from a lush green land
of soiled famine, exiled religions and northern Troubles
boiling in burning peat.

I am from bustling streets,
men in suits pass men in cardboard between
***** soaked, graffitied concrete.

I am from narrow canals,
hustling gondolas and homeless pigeons
squawking for a bite to eat.

I am from the center,
from the crumbling youth of everywhere:
a desolate town of dust and cattle,
a five-shop city of broken words.

I am from the world.
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
Stephanie
Uncertain
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
Stephanie
Swirling,
so uncertain,
so cold, alone,
unknown
and yet,
once I knew
of arms so warm,
of life so carefree
where you, and me
we wandered through our days
without a glimpse of pain
and now all I know
is how little I know
about us.
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
Shashank Virkud
I left before I could blow it.

Bright light, moonlight, whatever,
it doesn't matter, the setting is irrelevant,
the fact is,
I've noticed you before the grave.

I left before they could know it.

Call me whatever you like, whatever,
it doesn't matter, the semantics are irrelevant,
the fact is,
we made it all up anyways.

My dear, I left poetry to the poets.
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
JL
Wings
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
JL
Wide the door was thrown
To the breeze and yellow sun
Bird-on-his-song-glides
 Jan 2012 Jurgen
spysgrandson
hey!
you lookin’ at me?
like you would if I wasn’t here
is it my stewed stench you fear?
you lookin’ at me?
you wonder at all where I been?
or if I committed the original sin?
you lookin at me?
like I’m some bug you gotta crush
or some load you forgot to flush?
you lookin at me?
how ‘bout I sit beside you in your holy hall?
would you then know you too could fall?
you lookin’ at me?
**** no
I ain’t even here
another work written in a Langston Hughes mood--inspired by the image at this link--one of many by El Paso photographer T Bell, whose poignant photos of the homeless never fail to move me...I encourage readers to look at this picture Terry has provided the world
http://www.flickr.com/photos/t_w_b_50/5708472187/
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