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  May 2014 ThisIsMe
Of These Oceans
A great author once wrote
We accept the love we think we deserve.

And though the words were not my own
They stuck to me like gum beneath the chairs in my school
And I found myself reading them over and over again
Doing my best to soak in every single piece of truth  
That was crashing on my head like waves

And when you told me that he really loved you
And you still believed him
You broke my heart

Because the love that you know
Is not a grain of sand on the seashore
Or a star in the heavens
Or a blade of grass in the forest
Or a snowflake in winter

It is a word that cannot be found in the dictionary
A letter from no one's alphabet
A direction that can never be travelled
A lantern that cannot be seen in the dark

You have never heard
That love is for real
That it will strike you like lightening
You will feel it in your fingertips
In your lungs
In your bones
You have never heard
That there is a man who will never leave you
Who will love you like a word
Not like the weather

You tell me that there is nothing to be said
Nothing helps
But I disagree

You don't know love
But one day you will
And that love is not temporary
It is forever.

Just wait for the the storm
  May 2014 ThisIsMe
Annabel Lee
Honesty is so freeing
but so terrifying

Like bungee jumping,
with the pure sweet adrenaline
pumping through your bones
telling you you'll be okay,
you'll be okay,

You're okay.

That's why
I'm still wavering
on the edge of the cliff
feeling the tight straps around my legs,
knowing I will be caught
when I fall
but still seeing the
thousand foot drop beneath me.
  May 2014 ThisIsMe
JJ Elias
Sometimes I spread my hands to the sky certain that they can grasp the stars but they can't, yet I keep reaching anyways.

And there's something beautiful about spinning on a field when the only thing visible is the night sky, and the only thing insignificant is you.

When I was young the thought of the world revolving around the sun intrigued me, and those moments somehow made me feel at one with the world.

Spin, spin, spinning, but then I would stop and my feet could no longer keep up with pace of my head, so I’d go flying in all directions just like disillusioned men when they go stumbling down streets unfamiliar to them.

Sometimes I wonder if the world is the way it is because it is in chaos and no one even knows.

Like somehow everyone is at a disadvantage,

Like no mind is sober because of a natural disposition pinned against us by gravity.

What if that is why men do the things they do, because I always wonder under what spirit do they operate, what demons have they encountered, that cause them to be possessed with this hate that makes *** slaves of the unfortunate, orphans of the unprepared, single mothers of the lovers, victims of our children, and on and on and on and on again.

Life just keeps moving and we just keep making the same mistakes. generations pass, people die but no one understands that we are just animals, caught in a war against ourselves.

Against our greed, our pride, our lust, our security, our beliefs.

We are so full of ourselves that we don't notice what is happening around us, we don't know that the world is spinning at 1000 mph; we have lost touch with the things that matter, lost all connections with the truth in the sky that enlightens anyone who dares to approach it.

always forgetting that it is the beauty of the moon, and the millions of stars that remind us that We Are Insignificant

But instead we are grounded and we have stopped so our feet cannot keep up with the pace of our heads so we have lost our balance.

You know I'm afraid, I'm afraid for my life.

On morbid days I envision myself in my coffin, I see my lifeless body and the pastor walking up to the podium, he says,
"Jal, he was an average man, maybe a bit eccentric, tragedy struck and this young man was taken away from us way too early by the devastating actions of an unidentified person.”

I watch the whole funeral and in curiosity I wonder which belief was it that killed me, or was it something outside my control like the color of my skin.

You see most people pray to be put down while they are sleeping by the famous killer, old age, but I don't know if I'll make it that long.
I've always said I want to be fully aware of the moment I die.

That's why when I was young on family road trips, when the only thing I could see was the 350 ft. ahead of the car illuminated by the headlights, and the determined face of my father, I would fight to stay awake because I couldn't let death take me by surprise.

But now I'm eighteen I occasionally have nightmares of my loved ones dying, but then again I don't really sleep anymore because death threatens to come at any moment.

A terrorist attack could shatter the windows of this house I consider impenetrable, or even a hungry thief thinking irrationally about his rationality.

This is the world we live in.

The world is spinning off its axis and things that used to seem so far have slid closer and closer, until I’m looking right into the eyes of death.

From 9-11, to Westgate, to genocide, things are closing in on me, and the “what ifs” are no longer so improbable and I am afraid.

I'm afraid that the world will never change, that people will stay the same, that I will go insane.

I’m going insane.

Could people just understand, could we just stop for a moment, grab each other’s hands and walk to open fields together at twilight after all traces of the sun have gone, could we whirl around with our heads to the skies, our nature abandoned, and our bodies in sync with the world,

Could we just spin and spin and spin until we once again become what we were made to be.

Could we just be more than animals?
ThisIsMe May 2014
“I miss you”* is an understatement
Because when I say “I miss you” what I’m really saying is that
Every day I go without your laughter
Without your smile
Without your voice
Without your intoxicating presence
Is a day wasted
It’s a day the sun is a bit duller
Food a bit blander
And oxygen less satisfying
Suffice it to say
“I miss you” is an understatement
  May 2014 ThisIsMe
Rod E Kok
I’m strong, I can stand
against the buffeting winds
that try push me down.

        (I’m weak, too easy I fall,
       giving in to the pressure
       that mounts from within.)

In the face of your discrimination,
I’m courageous
       (I fear your abuse)

Yes, I am strong.
Though my gnarled hands
bend with age,
my roots…

        (break, there is no
       vigor left in me)

Sighing...my mind twists
that which should grow
into a solid foundation,
turning it into

        (groans of pain,
       mental anguish.
       Weakness takes over)

A tired thought dances
through dim light,
bringing some joy
into the
  
       (bleak. All I see are
       shadows. Mocking shadows.)

Once I believed I had it,
an inner strength to deal
with anything.

        (Like a mirage, my spirit
       couldn’t grasp what it needed.)

Now I envision…
no, I see what I truly am.

My hands are wringing,
I’m cold...so cold.

I am
not
strong.
This is the 7th piece I wrote in the Anxiety collaboration. This piece was the chosen one, until I wrote another piece. If you have read all 6 poems in this series, you will see a progression from dark to not so dark. Each piece has emotion, lots of it. I have to admit that this one was the hardest to write, as the emotion hit me very hard. I was mentally spent after writing and editing this (although there was very little editing to be done). As I was in my 'writing state of mind', I cried. Yes, dear reader, some poetry does that to me. I was overwhelmed by emotion. I have not yet figured out if the tears were borne from the poem, or if the words flowed out as a reaction to where my head was at. Maybe it just doesn't matter.

This poem is the 2nd last one in this series. I hope you enjoy it. I hope you, in some little way, took a journey with me. Maybe my words have revealed something in us that we don't want people to see. Maybe you just simply can't relate to any of it. And there is always the risk that you laugh at me and my words. This is all fine. I have grown. I have learned. Smiled and cried, I've run the gamut of emotion in this series of poetry. Please enjoy.

Rod E. Kok
April 2014
  May 2014 ThisIsMe
Of These Oceans
No matter how close I stand to you it's never close enough.
I will always need you.
You are the sun I want to soak in all over, the warmth radiating in my smile.
And the closer you stand the farther you feel because the nearer you are to me the more painfully aware I am of the space stretching endlessly between us.
I can always hear the dull roar within me that draws me to you.
And sometimes the pull is so strong that I physically hurt inside and it's like my heart is falling off a cliff and it won't stop sinking.
You're right there. So close I could feel your breath if only you would turn you head just a little.
And it's dark.
My eyes search for yours, a desperate look etched onto my face.
But your eyes don't meet mine.
I refuse to look away for fear of missing that impossible moment when you lift your gaze and despite the faces surrounding us you will look at me.
Look, for the first time and see something you have not before.
And take one step closer.
I will take you in my arms and the room will explode and everyone else will melt away.
But I won't kiss you.
Not yet.
The drum roll will be too great, too powerful. The years of separation will fall away like dust and that will be enough.
I will  hold your head and you will take my waist and we will both just know
If the world ended right in that instant
We would die Fearless. Full. Content.
And with everyone's eyes on us, That's when I will kiss you.
Because then, everyone else would see it too. They would see it in us.
I will close my eyes and for the first time there wouldn't be blackness.
We would be fearless.
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