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 Mar 2016 Kalarav
Steph Dionisio
You said that she's beautiful like a garden.
Filled with glowing beauty;
drenched in the warmth of sunshine.
But little did you know,
this beautiful garden has grown wildflowers.
They are in every corner, even on the path.
And the time you noticed these unwanted flowers,
you stepped on every blossom and left the garden.

*-Steph Dionisio, March 9, 2016
 Mar 2016 Kalarav
Noah A Baker
So there I was, and there you were, all of us,
everyone, dangling their feet off the rooftop.
Four distinctly different artists caught in the same painting
yet, none of us holding the paintbrush to our passions, yet.

Ambitious, yes, focused, not so much, motivated? Most definitely.

Dedicated to manipulation,
to making a masterpiece for the masses,
a decision to "form a more perfect union".  
To map a new demographic before our deaths.

If our desire was to make a mark, well,
we'd be done already.
The mark's been made, but not engraved,
and for it to stay we need to stomp on it until our own foot decays.

And these days, most pictures will fade,
So as us four sat there, dancing with the devil,
we dared to begin drafting on our canvas.
With no brush, but our own fingers,
our own blood, sweat, tears, and elbow grease,
finally finding the paintbrush to be figurative,
that we were manipulated ourselves.

We learned to picture the paintbrush as our pointer,
our palms the palettes, our pinkies the varnish,
a promise our piece would never be vandalized.

The world is your oyster, they say,
and the city was our canvas,
where we painted nothing but pearls,
rare commodities for the communities to cherish
until our masterpiece, the indefinite work in progress, is completed.
background:
we always struggle with pursuing what we want to do due to us believing we can't, or lack of resources, that we don't have what it takes, etc. And that's more or less fear making you think that. Once you let go of the fear in your head you can chase your dreams and passions. Once you realize that it's just a mental block, and you remove it, the world is yours to do what you want. Enjoy!
 Feb 2016 Kalarav
Maria Etre
BASHED
 Feb 2016 Kalarav
Maria Etre
Bashed for my age
and my single-dom
I shrugged in carelessness
and slapped a smile on my face

Questioned for my actions
I hugged them and told them
to partake in conversation
that did not happen virtually
but physically

Shunned for my appearance
I loosened my untamed hair
and fixed my piercings
blew them a kiss

Miss-judged for my behavior
I lifted my drink and cheered them
for their ignorance

Ignored for my elation
I patted them on the back
hoping they'd only feel an iota
of what I feel, everyday

Punished for my recklessness
I begged them to see the world
through my eyes and how colorful
it would be

Insulted for my honesty
I opened their eyes
to their insecurities
that to me
are
truly
beautiful
 Feb 2016 Kalarav
Pauline Morris
Did you know
That in the snow
Despite the glow

Our fears
Are still there
Still holding us near

Did you know
In the snow
The fear still grows

Even when it's covered
Under beautiful snow smothered
Just beneath the surface can be discovered

Did you know
In the snow
The winds of change still blow

You can try to foget
It will still make you sweat
It will still make you pay that debt

Did you know
In the snow
The fear will still make your blood run cold
Little by little
I come no closer to understanding
Why I long for closeness
(An introvert like me)

My friends might deny it
But I know
Why the dogs don't tug on their leashes
And why I never wave hello to their owners

There are moments when
I am reminded of a stranger saying
"It's difficult, huh?
Having a sister that's an extrovert?"

In the middle of the night I wake up thinking
"No, but what's difficult
Is wanting to be the best friend I can be
(An introvert like me)"
I used to be totally at ease with being an introvert (unaware of it, even) until I realized social success comes to people who are outgoing, and that's when I craned my neck to see if the grass really WAS greener on the other side. Guess what? It was.
 Feb 2016 Kalarav
Poetictunes
A woman's heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek Him just to find her.







~Maya Angelou
Too deep.
 Feb 2016 Kalarav
Tintin
Teen
 Feb 2016 Kalarav
Tintin
Anger, sadness, hate
Rage at the world
When things don't go your way

Dyed hair and piercings
Multicoloured eyes
How easy it is
To make an enemy of he world

Stop.....

What reason is there behind that rage?
Why have you built in your heart a cage?
Has somehing thought to apply to the depressed
Become the newest fashion craze?

Does teen mean emo?
Goth?
When did the word teen mean self hating poems written in the dark

Teen.....

What does teen really mean
If today it means following the craziest fashion craze
If it means pretending or imagining issues so I can complain like everyone else.

I don't want to be a teen.

I just want to be me
The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel,
And the former called the latter, "little ****":
Bun replied,
You are doubtless very big,
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together
To make up a year,
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I'm not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry:
I'll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track;
Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut.
 Feb 2016 Kalarav
Macy Opsima
I am a poet because of you.
It's the way your being
delivered a tidal wave of
poetic awakening to my
once dull veins.

Your lips watered
the flowers in my tongue
that were once called prose
but now they developed into poems.

Your fingers latched
perfectly into mine and
your nerves reacted to my nerves so right
and in that moment I knew our hands  were designed for each other.

And although
your tongue left my tongue
and your hand left my hand,
the diabolical mixture of your blissful and painful memories
kept the flowers in my tongue alive.

Soon enough, the flowers
crawled through my arms and hands,
begging me to write
the poetry that they bring.

You will never read this
but I forever thank you,
for I will always be a poet
because of you.
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