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 Feb 2015 TrAceY
r
copenhagen
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
r
everyone's talking
about freedom of speech

as if it should come at no cost
like something you teach

it's never been that way
and it never will be

we need to be reminded
of what it means to be free.
r ~ 2/15/15
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
PrttyBrd
The air my lungs grows stagnant
Between heartbeats
Heartbeats that dance
As he pumps it in his hand
Squeeze release. Squeeze release
Slowly, fluidly
Keeping time with his own
Basking in the moments between moments
Increasing and decreasing at his will
By his hand
Rolling on the sea of tympani
The music of his heart
Bleeds life into my own
Riding the crescendo
Between the stillness
Hidden in the silence of time
21615
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
Francie Lynch
The three-legged stool
Wobbles, and I have sat
Waiting to be knocked
As one tumbles a tall
Statue and proclaims
Freedom from tyranny.
Me, a demi-god,
That fed manna
For your desert sojourn
On wind-swept dunes,
Following car tracks
And the fore-prints of
Your elders.

Lift the ****** veil,
Smile at your betrothed,
Seal it with a ring.
Masters are butterflies pinned
To corkboard,
With translucent harlequin colors.
These high towers,
And stools,
Give One
Insightful perspectives.
The Monarchs
Have left for Mexico.
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
SG Holter
We have a thousand poems for
Every one of your bombs.
With each act of bloodthirst
And slaughter, we respond with
The force of volumes on peace.

Heaven; a holier word than Hell.
One birth overshines a
Hundred deaths.
Cowards wound.
Heroes heal.

Poets create. You cause
A thousand tears with every bullet.
Well, we compose oceans of comfort
In your wake.
Our ink overpowers your lead.

We have a thousand poems
For every one of your bombs.
You are the bringers of death to
The flesh. We are the armour
Of the soul.
My sympathies to the people of Denmark after the terrorist acts this weekend.
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
Bruised Orange
Of this, my heart so eagerly embraced
The plans of youth in dreams retraced
And in that song of once forgotten fire
A burning now of long quenched desire.

See the trees standing tall and austere?
The meadow grass with flowers appear.

Split rail fence
Winding path
Stone wall
Signs of a life,
Proof of it all

The poet seeks to recollect
Through phrases in earnest to reflect
But the pen, in solitude rejects

Through wasted years of hopeful dream
I've not set foot in a single stream

Of longing
Of bitterness
Of regret

These will be this poet's epitaph.
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
Jack
While Sleeping
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
Jack
While sleeping


Why is it mornings, so far in the distance,
flowing from beyond tempered shorelines
on lone standing bridges ~
always seem to call in the midst of a dream

When sunrise illusions now erase sleep
on meadowlark borders dotted in dew drops
built in the confines of spring
with fall fast approaching ~ featuring shadows stretched of time

Long on the porch, weathered and beaming,
tapping the front door with marching band fingers
in trumpet blares and bass drum beats ~
yet quiet in the state of mind seen through blurry eyes

Still ~ a before smile, brought about the prior evening
forces dimples once again in my cheeks
igniting the darkness with three-ring spotlights,
streaked of circus beacons on popcorn ceilings

Reminding ~ the dream I have found actually lives in my daylight,
slipping around corners and window sill gaps,
finding me on the brink of now,
stumbling my way to where I long to be ~ awake

For my dream is you,

who I so desperately miss ~ while sleeping
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
chimaera
wintry sun,
brief,
byplay yard
shadowed in cold

and yet

powdering
golden tones,
drafting
a fire, a mirage.

heyday adjourned.

ethereal hibernaculum
of the light,
tilting floret in
full-blown decay.
16.2.2015
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
chimaera
spoiler alert: #implicitly mature, in some way...#


TAKE 1
a bench. a garden.
the guy: *yeah, ***, to **** my way through,
so, i'll be on my way.

the girl: (silence).
close-up: the guy, his back.
fade.

TAKE 2
a car. in the front seats.
no sun set.
the girl: yeah, but it is not worth it, so.
the guy: yeah.
panoramic: a street. cars passing by.

TAKE 3
total darkness.
a voice whispers a scream.
the guy: why can't i *******?!
the girl: (silence).
total darkness.
the guy again.

TAKE 4
a river. a wooden fence.
the girl. leaning.
close-up: her hands.
the girl: (silence).
her hands. a cat comes by.
the cat moves away.
panoramic: the river, the back of the girl.
high noon. no shadows.
14.2.2015
 Feb 2015 TrAceY
Joshua Haines
I made love
to an email,
inside my
mind's
sugar shop.
I guess
our blood is
detailed;
I don't feel
until you're
shocked.

You say the things
I moan,
and I wear the things
you swear,
like, "I'd still see you,
even if you were
to disappear."

You kiss me before
I tell you that you're
silver-spoon-
melted-heart,
reassuring me
that you're ****** up,
and to just push
to watch you
fall apart.

We shake
because it's what
we forgive the most.
So, let's bite our tongues
and float north.
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