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Is poetry dead
took its last breath
eating up all it's words
I'm feeling so hurt
poetry is dead
we mourned for days
sounds of sobs heard around the world

we slept in silence
lights on

poetry is dead
hello poetry welcome back to the internet
 Mar 19 Tanisha Jackland
zak
Her
words moved me, and
God
i wanted my fingers to blister and my
bones to ache
but my mind withers and my heart breaks
i swallowed ink and still i couldn’t
make the words flow like they used to as if
almost as if
they refuse to
flannel shirt and torn blue jeans
she always held her cards close
to her fragile heart
her wild heart

(a heart not for me)

and she fades into a cold wind
whitens into snowflakes
and wild infatuation

i'm faded

the torn page
from a list of lovers
broken and sad

my love is moonlight and mare's tails

the night's stars
shot full of lost tomorrows
The sharpened mind - with care - takes aim
- at university, we play ruthless games.
Where pencils scratch, their graphite gray,
and scholarly answers take the day.

I've finished midterms!
It was like one of those TV shows, ‘survivor’ or something.

Enzyme kinetics, metabolic pathways, protein structures and functions be ****** - no, be double ******.

I’d been working problems raw in dreams, waking up tired.

Sunday, I was so stressed I'd felt calm, like I’d accepted my fate.
I can tell you that now - now that I survived.

“I was strazzled but controlled - there's a difference in how
I struggle internally - and what I let show.” I told Leong.
“Is that why you were yelling at everyone?” she replied.

“Now that midterms are over, I feel luminary,” I informed Leong, “am I glowing?”
She looked up and said, “No.” Communists aren’t sentimental.
Of course I meant luminary in both achievement and radiance.

My Uncle Remy used to tell me:
“Little one, don’t worry about being a failure,
that’s your parent’s job.”

I Love you Uncle Remy.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Luminary: is a person of brilliance or a celestial body.

strazzled = stressed and frazzled

Our cast:  Leong and I.
Leong, (roommate) 20, is from Macau, China and she’s a proud communist ("don’t knock it til you’ve tried it"). She's a ‘molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major.’ We both speak Cantonese, and we talk a lot of secret trash together.

Spring break is in two days - I'm packing for Paris!
The storm has been blown apart
Only cotton ***** sail in blue skys
below a lake ripples

-cec
There was a time
we lit up a room.
Toast of the town,
roses' full bloom.
Now we watch it
from a dark tomb.
the far edge of your love
rushes into me
like small increments of sugar
stirred into my coffee cup

it is the edge of things
i most desire

golden and violet clouds
settling just above the sea at sunset

the dive into the deep
green sea
and then the slow rise to sun

the far edge of your love rushes to me
like smoldering embers
waiting to be the fire once more

it is the edge of you i most desire
like the end of a ridge looking down
into the clouds below

the far edge of your love
rushes into me
and it is the edge of your love i desire
the perfume of pale blue flowers
the elusive summer captured in your smile
and l'appel du vide
never in my life
have I ever thought of it
but beneath my skin
is a skull

I feel the bone outline of my brow
the contour of my crooked nose
the catliage in my ear

horrible creatures they are
those vultures
my father ****** at 54
long in the ground

and feeling the bones
of my nose

sunrise is not guaranteed

wind and rain
stars and the sea
the lonely one
who left us here

created
those 8 mother ******
vultures
feasting on a dead deer

the griffons know the failure
of bones and flesh

and ice is forming
on the tips of my guardian angel's
wings
but the Nightingale sometimes
still sings
to me of you in dreams

and we'll meet again
at the end of time

and walk across the sun

my love.
i was watching
Shane's funeral

beautiful
and deservingly so

and i wondered
who would come to my funeral???

(debt collectors
police
2 x-wives
DEA)
(surely
i'm heading to purgatory)

perhaps she'll come
the woman who wants to be a mortician
i meant her at the liquor store

i answered her ad
in the A.P. press,
it read, as follows:

Female, a young 60
likes UFO stories
and exorcisms
loves to watch autopsies,
has a potato chip
that looks like D. Trump!
(not for sale)
will be in front of BY-WAY Liquor store
7 a.m. Tuesday. Gladys.

and one thing
led to another
SO,
here i am
and the the smoke
from the camp
fire's
burning my eyes
i'm on my 18th can
of miller light
Gladys and me
are looking for
UFO s
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