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 Oct 2014 Kyia B
Ann Beaver
Leaves
 Oct 2014 Kyia B
Ann Beaver
Leaves turn gray
And fall away
The pressure is too great,
And you are far too late
I ask the universe
Or fate
To send some help
But it only hears a curse.

My light isn't light
He said
It's un-light
In the brightest possible way,
I long to gulp down
A beautiful soul
To replace the one stolen from me,
The one lost at sea
Instead, the un-light
Gulps me into its
Violent absence found
In leaves turning gray.
 Oct 2014 Kyia B
Kristo Frost
Root
 Oct 2014 Kyia B
Kristo Frost
.
                         Root
                      yourself
                           in
                         calm
                   that       down.
            cuts
      you      through
raw.               ­         the
                                     panic
                     moments         of
              that                            forgetting
    spark.                 ­                                 to
                             ­                                      live
                      ­                                without      within
             ­                         hesitation                             this
                                   as                                                   soft            
                                to                              ­                              cage.    
                        how.
 Aug 2013 Kyia B
Àŧùl
Everyday
 Aug 2013 Kyia B
Àŧùl
When I wake up in the morning,
I think exclusively of you.
While I lie down,
I dream of you..
Whom I crave for,
Is only you...

It's just you,
Whom I brave for...
I gleam from you,
While I breakdown..
I assume that I'm with you,
When I walk up the lonely street.
Brave the cold times, hostile situations & the sandstorm to be with you.

My HP Poem #411
©Atul Kaushal
 Aug 2013 Kyia B
J M Surgent
I never told you this story:

The story is, when we first me, first falling in love, I had a choice. I was at a party, with my friends, and you texted me. You wanted to get drunk, bring a friend and show off some new guy you met.

And I was talking with a beautiful French girl.

She was impeccable, with long dark hair and she scared many of the guys away with the intensity in her stare. Her accent made every word a masterpiece, and her style strict Parisian. She did it all like we could do it, but she did it differently. And she could dance.

I asked my friend what I should do.

He took a drink and told me “If she comes man, she’ll only want to dance with you.” He said this as he glanced at the beautiful French girl smiling at me, and I smiled back at her. And that sealed the deal in the kitchenette.

So I walked backed to her, and she held out her hand. She pulled me in close, and I could smell her hair. She smiled as she taught me, laughed as I failed, and it took a while to get the hang of it, but I finally prevailed.

And I danced with the French girl.

I ignored your texts, blocked your calls. And it was her that I was texting on my walk home, forgotten about you at a bus stop far from home. It was the feel her of her body against mine I missed, not yours.

And even though I later chose you, I later fell for you, and I later lost you, that night, I chose her. I chose the dream over reality; someone knew over a scene well seen; I chose love, I chose me.

And do I regret that decision?

Well, out of all the decisions I made which lead me to loving you, I have absolutely no regrets in dancing with the beautiful French girl.

Maybe it was a precursor, a sign I should have taken. But to me, it’s just a memory, and a memory I’ll never forget, a memory I'll always have about dancing with the French girl in the downstairs kitchenette.
I guess it's kind of a short-story-meets-poem type of deal, but I don't know of a specific website to post that on.
 Apr 2013 Kyia B
Tyler Nicholas
The weathervanes
swirl snow into shimmering spirals.
The trees,
in slow rebirth,
retrogress to barren skeletons.
The cold leeches the green
from the emergent grass.

I perch atop wire farm fences
to rest my wings, to mend broken feathers;
the wind moves silence amidst the cold,
for my voice is void of song.

I see a flock flutter in the sky,
their call beckoning my flight to be one with theirs;
our voices to be one as we sing
songs of hopeful blessing
amidst nature's dissonance,
and chimes will resound from porches
and deer will drink from running waters
as if nothing has moved backward at all.

I will have a new song to sing,
as clouds break, revealing the splendor
of divine daylight.
The smell of ink and abandonment lingered in the air as I stepped inside the room we had scarred. Dust has found a home at last - a place where all your faults were accepted and my hope was never questioned. This is where we hold our entire world. This is where each second lasts everlastingly. This is where forever lives.

Tissues slept on the floor like confetti for my return mixed with crippled promises you have dropped and forgotten.The bedsheet lay awake, exhausted, weary, heaving the sigh you exhaled in a lock room - the smell of your desire, of my frustration, of our longing, of my name. I wonder if they had kept your heartbeat. I wonder if I could have it back.

I wonder if I could have you back.

The silence had preserved every single thing you have uttered - every word a bar, each sentence another lock. Your voice hanged themselves on the cobwebs, the cobwebs had consumed the space and you had filled me with wishes, longing and regrets. I have never expected you to say hello again. I certainly never shall. You never did. You never will.

We slept in our mask and redressed in denial.

Forever is still etched on the atmosphere. I can feel you touching the small of my back, paving your way through my spine, reaching your way to where the burnt maps, love letters, crumpled clothes and drawn out nights were. I can feel you possessing my nape. I can hear you whispering my name. I can see you piercing the night. Why do always you have to be so wonderful?

The scars you have etched on my skin breathe like stars on the pillows you have wounded. They glowed longingly for that smell of yours they’re acquianted with. They stood beyond eternity. The inteminable look in your eyes before you sleep had tampered the wallpapers - the audience of those nights we own, when everything was forgotten, including the world. The story of what if and what could have been filled the space between us - never allowing my arms to cling around your neck, never wanting you to kiss my ear, shielding you to find us on the swell between my *******.

The clock had stopped working.

At least it won’t steal my time.

Maybe I can sleep tonight.

Maybe we can be infinite.
~Lacus Crystalthorn, 2012
 Apr 2013 Kyia B
Ottar
I recognize your work,
                                          it is not my call on your worth.
You thought you sought glory,
                                                          ­bought into the lies,
                                                           ­                                     now it is a different story.

There are no adjectives, no adverbs for what was done.
Fool(s), you think you have won?
But it is not about winning, is it?
                                                             If you could digest what you did, YOU did.
                                                            ­ Human, You would ***** your insides out.
Selfish actions will spawn
                                     a hellish reward.
If you have not trained,
                                             your marathon has just begun,
                                             you won't get my pity or prayers,
                                                        ­                                                      I've already turned you
over to God.
                       You lost that battle by the molten lake, do you remember that you did
forsake?

It has been many years since, twisted
                                                          you are and how you act,
                                           human vessels are easy to attract.

Evil is as evil does,
                                   you will not change,
                                                         ­                 because you already lost.


©DWE042013
homemade Claymore mines +Killing + injuring + maiming   = EVIL  
Let me know and I will take this one out of circulation - kay?
 Apr 2013 Kyia B
Adam Evergreen
With the light of a new day
peers just in reach,
The scars fade
and the tears dry
my lips tremble
with a seed of hope
planted in my heart
it grows, and grows
until the blossom
turns my head to to sun
and my lips point to the sky
I have blossomed
from seed, to life
 Apr 2013 Kyia B
Trevor Gates
Lucid, abusive
Tongue in cheek divine
Stupid, elusive
Lost soul of mine

A snap of orchestral fingers to summon the suave illustrator
Mohawk punks and minions to smash the limp masturbator

Loveless, acquiesce
Arpeggio flutter ripples
Convalesce, Fancy dress
******* with perky *******

One or two drinks, make it three then five
Keeping the blood warm and love alive

Visceral, peripheral
Dark raven hair
Liberal, scriptural
I couldn’t even care.

I adored her all, her everything, her gleaming demeanor
The subtle wink of her eyes, the glow; even greener

Exotica, ex machina
Street amazon of desert glass sand
No drama, rural karma
Flesh sweating like the heat of Sudan

Dead singers like Cole and Morrison sing of paper moons and Crystal Ships
The mixed CD segues to U2, Pulp, and then a full disk of The Flaming Lips.

"Nightingale", minor scale
The saxophonist played under the street lamp outside
Folktale female
“Another drink?” she abides, two glasses and wine supplied

On her balcony we watched and listened, to the call of urban passion
The wordless music we adored, a testament to our mutual attraction.
 Apr 2013 Kyia B
Nick Durbin
The eerie existence of a simple moment,
           Small and finite, yet full of pretentious meaning...
                                   Simply crossing through dimensions -
                       Almost systemiatically defining life,
           Clarity amongst a constant ibid of chaotic misdirection.
Leaving us with profound instances of life,
                                                                       death,
                                                                            love and loss...
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