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 Aug 2014 Liam
Hollow
Common
 Aug 2014 Liam
Hollow
Everywhere I let my eyes wander
All the faces I dare to glance upon
They're all the same

It's all water
Placid as glass
Every detail coagulates
Into one blank page
A diary of lost souls

I feel pulled under
By the cascading heights
Of my insecurities
Constantly wondering;
Does anyone else see this?

If the world is invisible to us all
Where do we aim our eyes:
*To the clouds?
 Aug 2014 Liam
Sia Jane
I've always had,
a home,
four walls,
enclosing,
four souls.
Wars,
within me,
separated in a,
dream.
I see,
a vision,
a spirit,
a passing medium.
My body,
exorcized of,
the girl I once,
was.
Born sad eyed,
planets; Jupiter, Saturn,
global maps,
to the soul.
Reading me,
flickering pages,
spinning,
terrestrial globes,
as changing as,
each,
season.
Unsummoned thoughts,
strange gifts;
genius strikes,
but,
a few,

(so they say)

ones sought,
from,
a power so,
universal.
Where stars,
find,
a home
&
the moon,
laying,
it's head,
amidst a vast,
density of,
terrifying,
external lapsing,
clutching threads,
tied to earth.
Catching,
shooting stars I was,
always,
praying...
On anything I,
could,
hold.

© Sia Jane
 Aug 2014 Liam
Sjr1000
She sits in the
claustrophobic room
of her mind
dust ribbons blow
in the pale light
of
waxed candles
burning Jasmine
and
reminds her of the passing of time.

It is not long
before
she finds the hidden bottle
on the dusty cobwebbed shelf
with all of those desires
banging against the opaque glass
begging to be freed again
to run their course
of course she is afraid
as her trembling fingers
circle the cap
too late.

One touch
and
all those desires put aside
are free to roam
and fill the room
with
their moans
and
take control of what once was the freedom
that only lived in her mind's eye
she descends into her personal
heaven and hell
a pleasure center
alien to all she's been sold.

Dressed in black
in the casino
she puts it all on red.

She finds you there
she leads you out
to
the moon lite bay
where she steals your voice
and
leaves you
the wolf
howling at the moon.

When desires are freed
they pick up speed
she is, of course,
filled with remorse
so alien from her former course.

As her longings devour her
a tiny light of hope remains
and for the day
into the bottle tightly capped
her desires,  put away
once again remain.

She walks out of that
claustrophobic room
the candles burned down
only Jasmine smoke remains
the lingering scent of the bay
the echo of a wolf howling at the moon
lingers in colors of red and black

And to her husband
she briefly smiles
and
says
"Good morning"
once again
and
decides whether to go or stay.
 Aug 2014 Liam
Robert C Howard
I sliced a fresh banana today
          alone at my kitchen counter.

I drew a common table knife
         and carved a slender yellow disc
that lingered on the blade.

The next disc drove it off the knife
          and down to the cereal below.  

Soon the banana was all partitioned
          and the Cheerios mostly masked.
I popped the heel in my mouth.

  Childhood memories crackle
          like a radio slightly off its station
                and I can almost hear mom
         talking softly as she slices -

   I am barely listening.
         My left hand holds an imaginary banana
               while my right hand maneuvers
         a non-existent knife.

How strange the knife I held so real
         yet the shade of mom merely conjured -
far too strange to truly believe.
Included in Unity Tree - Collected poems
pub. CreateSpace - Amazon.com
 Aug 2014 Liam
David Hall
a pier one imports parked between
penera and penn station
a physical example of literary alliteration
 Aug 2014 Liam
irinia
it is just enough,
too many in depth lessons.
pain always asks for something,
fear has run out of options,
joy wears light dresses
loneliness refuses dinner,
despair sits at a crossroad.

these are just contours of events
obliterating "the vital impetus"
as in a probabilistic game
or in the second law of thermodynamics
blissful equilibrium is just a special retreat
some form of inner spacial homogeneity

this is just a moment
before dinner is served
on a peaceful evening
by a lake
catching the last rays
of the singing sun
There is a forest old as hillsides
tall, majestic, dappled shades
fall on ground beneath the silent
gnarled defenders of the glade.

There they stand in ancient splendour
many souls have passed their way
often used as welcome shelter
from the heat of summers day.

Sweet the air they breathe in chorus
our life's breath their lungs provide,
soaking up our daily poison
so that we may live and thrive.

You seas of men intent to clear them
citing progress, peddling greed
tearing roots from precious mooring
laying waste to nature's seed.

**** the beauty of a landscape
displace creatures for your need
rupture fragile ecosystems
scar the earth and watch it bleed.

To you I ask a simple question,
as I see the land bereaved.
What need has man of all this progress
when he can no longer breathe?
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