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When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor.
Tell his street on its back he stopped a sun
And the craters of his eyes grew springshots and fire
When all the keys shot from the locks, and rang.
Dig no more for the chains of his grey-haired heart.
The heavenly ambulance drawn by a wound
Assembling waits for the *****'s ring on the cage.
O keep his bones away from the common cart,
The morning is flying on the wings of his age
And a hundred storks perch on the sun's right hand.
 Dec 2013 Melissa Calopiz
marina
my street has been
dark for a while, but
now that there are
lights on every porch,
this neighborhood feels
a lot less empty
and i've been thinking that
maybe it'd be okay now
for you to come
home
[ ]
 Dec 2013 Melissa Calopiz
Jack
I play my guitar


I play my guitar,
crying in sevens
on a lonely cold morning
with the rain falling down

Sorrowful chords,
on the strings of emotion
in a three quarter tear drop
where sadness is found

                    And the storm clouds they form
                    on the edge of tomorrow
                    with my thoughts ever yearning
                    for you in my arms

Now a chill finds my heart,
it is empty and hollow
I play my guitar
and there isn’t a sound
in the morning
we struggle with the bed sheets that
wrap us, bind us

in the afternoon
we crawl to our desks
and burn our faces
with radiation
from our phones, from our laptops
reasoning, pleading, typing, and clicking
away the words and sentences
that could decide our fates

in the evening
the voices sharing laughter and stories are
nowhere
to be found in the dinner table
there is only the hurried clanging
of forks and knives against porcelain
we swallow several morsels of reheated leftovers
and just drown our stomachs with coffee and pills
the breath of our sighs fill the air
and bring us to suffocation

we drag our limbs
to wherever
the answers and solutions may be
with all our might,
we anchor ourselves against the world's spin

our sunken weary eyes
glance at each other from time to time
no words are spoken
but from those fleeting moments
we know the burdens that the other carries
as much as our hearts ache to
we can't help each other
because we're already too lost helping ourselves
Edited! Just noticed that I accidentally deleted an entire stanza of the poem!
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

— The End —