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 Oct 2017 mikecccc
Nolan Bucsis
Eventually the mystique.
Of not working.
Wears off.

Pointless conversations with cray people.
Who are usually high and looking.
For a way to **** or rob you.
Get old.

One day you wake up from that rebellious.
Romantic.
Utopia.
Of good times.

And, you're missing your teeth.
Nothing in common with.
People you used to be.
 Oct 2017 mikecccc
Meg B
I've scrapped the first
fifteen versions of a poem
I don't want to write or
maybe I want to write it but I'm
afraid I won't like it or
am I just afraid of what I might
say,
of what my subconscious will
convey?

Ink drying up like dried blood
while the blood in my veins
pulsates and my
head throbs as I try to decipher
how much of what has happened
to me is actually because
of me.

Is it me?
Are my experiences mine because
I made them so,
or did I happen to just
stumble into the darkness?

A sour mashup of
self-love and self-loathing,
it's like I have two minds intertwined
double-analyzing double helix
radioactive brain DNA

Am I great? Am I awful?
Am I even worthy of such extremes?
Where are all the adjectives to
describe me?
Can I write about it if
it changes daily?
Is it possible to know yourself perfectly and
also not at all?

Questions generating more
questions,
hypothesizing Eye
must seek before
I find.
Grieving grief
As most of us are apt to do
Startling reflections
Seen in a whole new view
Stifling malaise
Giving up obscenity
For glowing window blaze
The night can't get much darker
Until comes a brighter phase
Grieving grief
Like a moon starved sage
 Oct 2017 mikecccc
r
Tonight, outside the storm
rages while the silence
inside me is as deafening
as a drowning violin,
I am as lonely as a lost feather
floating on a wandering
wind, my thoughts as painful
as a heartache wondering
when the beating will end
and love has turned cold,
passion has left, and when
the wine is all drunk I'll become
the insatiable leviathan
sinking ship after lost ship,
the salmon who drank the river
dry, the sailor who swallowed
the sea, until my forgotten
lover's face is seen in each breath,
and crystals condense
on my heart and my hands,
and the night is as dark
as a stranger’s stark shadow.
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