A rose by any other name
Brings pain and thorns, oh what a shame
When love in all its purity brings
The joy of warm feelings, mine heart it sings

We dance about with flower on lips
Until torn our feet, we walk on tipsy tips
The belief that we have to journey through thorns
To find a true love, a perfect red rose

We give to you hearts, our body and soul
And our loves take it all, in dribs and drabs so bold
Wearing our blinder unable to see
They've torn away pieces, the pieces of me

As three drops spill on whitest snow
No fairytale prince, just the kiss of the black crow
This delicate flower will blossom either way
Through all the hardships, strong and steady I'll stay

When all does end for you
I vow to be by your side
tending to your every whim
whist watching your spirit, fad from within

I will be the counterbalance of your stress
and attentive to you, I will do my best
as you are my best friend
so I'm here for you, when all does end


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

It’s time to bury the guns in the ground
Black men cuffed
shot in the back of the head
little black girls with their braids
slayed
in sleeping beds
into the dark winds
I’m crying
looking at all this senseless dying
but whose to blame?
Some say the war machine
is just part of the game

People livin' too long under fever haze
throw my ticket out the window,
throw my suitcase too,
             I can’t stay here no more

Aquarius has come with the red clay pitcher
I met him by the etruscan stone well
bloodied in all our glory
we threw the system down to hell

This is a happy poem,
About happy children,
And happy mothers,
Who dont get drunk.
And happy fathers,
Who dont leave home.
This is a happy poem,
About happy songs,
Which arent about heartbreaks.
And happy stories,
Which arent about death.
This is happy poem,
About happy headlines,
Which dont read '****'.
And happy people,
Who buried themselves,
Yesterday.

The audacity is staggering,
Enraged ego makes me laugh.
Why do you think it is yours,
When common fantasy I craft?

I write for me, myself, and I,
And often, for another.
But I too write for audience,
To give them chills and shudders.

I pull emotion from my heart,
And feeling from my past.
Sometimes I will write in truth,
But stories are told in final draft.

I love to mess with the mind,
Confuse and frustrate readers.
I don't want you to know the meaning,
And I don't want you to know me either.

Leave the ego and assumption behind,
I rhyme for for art and applause.
It hones my skills for further use,
Sharpening poetic claws.

Even this is not what you think,
If you know me you'll understand.
This is a cryptic verse,
From the beginning planned.

So read on with a grain of salt,
Be wary as you go.
Many of my works are true,
But which you'll never know.

Where is the SILENCE?