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 Dec 2012 Kalon R
The Joker
She looked to me as child to understanding teacher.
I needed not to speak just the nod spoke  all that was needed to say.
The razor met tender flesh as her eye's spoke the true plessure of the sting.

The crimsom trail traced her arm leaving bliss and regret washed clean.
She carved the words so gracfully into her arm her pain gave the passion
to my wicked fire.

She yerned to please and I to embrace the darkness that I pulled from her light.
Such a stupid  creature can they not understand there is no true understanding.
Campassion is a tide of emotional ***** left in a gutter of despair.

Teenage agony did he hurt you to bury your tears in tormented scar and
faded composition book.
The sheep was struck by the snake and found shellter in arm's of the wolf.

Deeepr my dear  I comanded  erase the memory  my smile hidden
cast a shadow over my evil cloud of soul.
Deeper bleed the pain in a moments fatal embrace.

Her eye's met with tears and faded slowley as the **** was sliced how sweet
death a beauty I do adore.

The word cast a scar and a final statement inwhich I did and will never embrace again.
Love cast a crimson pool canndle lit chaos she died a angel  in demons splendor.

As I stood above her viewing the art of her demise.
I read the word carved so deeply in her flesh.
And after the release of a fire to nothing i had to reflect.

Kissing thoose lifeless lips  my smile embraced light.
My stupid sweet girl when will you learn.
Love sometimes is so very lethal as well as messy.
 Dec 2012 Kalon R
bluejam
Beware poets.  Conceit consumes

Oh yes, we understand how you have suffered
Such great gifts no one understood,
Except that teacher, so eager to please with ink stained hands

Beware young poet of your mirrored pen-hand
Reflecting only your own visions
        As if you could replace God in this universe of stars
Your mirrored hand withdrawn from the waters of truth leaves no impression
Only the smallest ripple for an instant remains (poets understand this)

Beware young poet of your own conceit
You say nothing new,
You write old truths to fresh eyes
Is that enough for you?
  
Stand without ego if you can…strive selflessly
Put ambition away
Show love
Let go of conceit to see the world and write
 Dec 2012 Kalon R
Demitrius
To live in a world
Is to live parallel,
With what people see.

To simply live
Is to live boundless,
Becoming of what the people will soon see.

To be content
Is to be bored,
With the rules you have set.

To be happy
Is to be satisfied,
Even before you have to set rules.

To not except the similarities of life
Is the same as not being able to see,
If one cannot see these views
One has no vision to see with.
 Dec 2012 Kalon R
K I R A
Looks like this is the only time we'll get to talk
But there will be no response, no chance to go for a walk
This will be the one time you will have to listen
Hopefully I cover it all, and don't leave any importance missing
Here's what I wish I'd say
Here's the inside of my heart on this very day
I wish there was something I could do
To make you see that it was all true
Everybody knew
Yet you did not have even a clue
I wish I could of saved your drowning soul
It was once so beautiful and pure as gold
I hope you know I have a piece of you with me all the time
But if you knew who I was now, it would be such a crime
I'm not the person you raised
In fact, most of the time I'm confused and dazed
I don't have the respect for myself that you taught me
I'm not the person that I wish I could be
I wish you didn't leave me in my time of need
Maybe then you could watch me succeed
Into the beautiful flower that I strive to become
But day after day we were slowly left with none
And here I am.
I am here, standing looking up at what's left of you
I hope one day my dreams come true
Maybe it would someday make you proud
And you'd set free rain unleashed from the clouds
And I'll just close my eyes and smile
 Dec 2012 Kalon R
K I R A
Mirror
 Dec 2012 Kalon R
K I R A
Its hard to label when one can relate.
Especially when the factors they carry are qualities within yourself that you've grown to hate
You know how they feel.
You're aware of that adrenaline rush when you watch them steal.
You know the sensation in the pit of the stomach when you see them kiss
Its the fulfillment of loneliness, forever dreaded to miss.
When you gaze into those glass eyes and toothy smile,
You recognize the small sense of happiness you wished wouldn't leave after a short while.
When the scars shine through the skin to reveal the freshly cut wounds
You remember that fragile feeling of being trapped in your own little thought cocoon
If only one could escape
 Dec 2012 Kalon R
Nicole Benson
I believed that a person was a birthday wish and they robbed me
I believed a person was a saint and they be-deviled me
I believed a person was intelligent and they acted as a fool
I believed that a person knew all the answers and they now look like a tool
I believed a person was my guiding light and into darkness i was thrown
I believed that a belief was more than me
I believe its not
Only me without beliefs especially not in anything or anyone more than me
I believe in me
me is only the belief without the I
Oh no, dear Wonder boy
What happened to your wealth?
I walked down your isle today,
And scanned the starving shelves

Your "immortal" gold ******* has vanished,
And a famine has wiped out your bread
White powder collects in the corners,
Of a skeleton that's now nearly dead

A **** of flower erases your tracks
And just like that,
You're toast

--Christian J. Clark
Written in memory of Hostess Brands, 1925-2012.
 Dec 2012 Kalon R
M W
Beginning in a night,
and lasting through.
Shock.
Bitterness.
Few bursts of anger.
Talking,
sharing,
secrets told.
Sadness,
tears,
and longing.
"Why?" Rained down with other questions.
To the point,
of dismissive.

"I don't want to be a girl,
I want to be a turtle."

There were happy notes,
permitted as they were.
Amongst,
Friends.
Family.
Myself.

Back.
Up.
Beautiful was/is:
butterflies,
overturned and stuck,
ocean water confining them,
to a shorter life,
when the waves wash,
higher, higher,
plucked away.
From the wet sand,
lifted into the sky,
brought to a plant,
two,
maybe three, made it.

Of cats,
strays though they were,
with food and beds under the pier.
Of the lady,
who shared her lunch,
crawling under the deteriorating boards,
to fill their bowls.

Fast-forward.
To friends,
rejoined with smile.
Though sad with an emotional pain,
of laying there,
in self.
Best friend-talks.
Friend-talks.
Family-talks.
Person-to-dog talks.
All these.

Seventy,
in the dark,
with no music.

Then July.
Fireworks,
on the seventh,
shared on the third.
A slight battle for a chair,
settled with laughter as half went to one,
and other to other.

Of walking,
in the rain,
after and before,
not during.
The ground is damp,
music pulsates.
Removed,
then off.
Birds,
the name of the wind,
two ways,
beautiful.
The sounds,
remembrance,
of home,
of before,
of the present,
of the during that became the past.
A deep pit,
opened,
also happiness.

Beautiful things are,
the wind tousling short hair: present,
thunder and lightning rolling in: present,
wrestling on the floor: past,
filled with a sudden joy as soon as a presence (his) was spotted: past,
shooting games: past
first kiss: past,
first love: past.

Of remembering,
the good and the bad,
the tough ways of learning,
of forgiveness,
of a new experience,
of tears for new reasons,
of the word "olive,"
of messing up,
of being,
of beautiful things.

"In the sky,
above the clouds,
are more clouds."

(and release)
This is my emotional journey through a summer after being dumped.
 Dec 2012 Kalon R
jeffrey conyers
Brokenhearted lovers.
Learn to let go.
To try to control anyone.
Means you have no control at all.

Brokenhearted lovers.
Seek ways to heal.
Losing a lover is a bitter pill.

But move on.
Readjust your feelings to be free of hurt.
And it starts the moment you accepts the hurt.

Insecurity is a weakness of fear.
When you yearn for your  love.
Who has found another?

Even if they were dishonest with you.
Accept it as a sign.
They wasn't worth of the essence of you.

Built up a inner strength that you control.
And when the next lover comes along.
They will cherish you more than you thought possible.

Counsel yourself.
All because it's free.
And you'll find in yourself.
A strength that can't be bent.
So brokenheart soul explore yourself.
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