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 Aug 2014 Mira Lamb
Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of
     universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I
     reach my hands and play with pebbles of
     destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs
     reading "Keep Off."

My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive
     in the universe.
I want to be
an unforgettable thought
in your beautiful mind.
Love is an art.

And I can barely
draw you a stick figure.
Funny story. True story.
15/1/14
 Aug 2014 Mira Lamb
Johanne
Untitled
 Aug 2014 Mira Lamb
Johanne
it's 1:32 am
and I'm so drunk
that i can't remember
you
Selfies,
I can smell the desperation,
from here.
odors  of worry;
rippling anxities of uncertainity.
two dimensional,
instantaneous impressions,
pixelated presentations,
and
Teenage frustrations.

up tilted camera.
held against the light,
Illuminating eyes ,
and eradicating spots.
that looks like a good one.
Vicarious representation;
of how good
one could look,
fallible and hopeful.

big bosomed dame
showcasing blessed cleavage,
pulsating the adolescent
bulges.
delivered to
metal passenger,
thereafter shown
among peers.
networked to unknown.
Friends who'd never
met eye,
or
touched skin,
or
even spoke.  

self conscious
cropping of images.
fat and fearful.
wasted hours,
dying for love.
False dream of
captivating the messes with her selfie.

The very ugliness
of impressions.
Oh, how shallow we've became.
The denial
of the impact of aesthetics.
laughable,
torrents of judgement
Skinny,
fat,
ugly,
behold their desperate eyes behind the selfie.
Glance down on the selfie with objectiveness ,and open yourself to the thought process of each individual, on each selfie they take. All the billions of flaws, among all the billions of people; with each picture we take, the heart pulsates at possible notifications. The child like glee we feel when we think we look good, The somber sadness that peers over us when we feel we look bad.
 Jul 2014 Mira Lamb
JWolfeB
Coffee
 Jul 2014 Mira Lamb
JWolfeB
Love, well love is like a good cup of coffee

We all want to drink it without getting burnt
On those nights where you sit and talk,
when the crisp air surrounds you,
when everything seems at peace
You open yourself up in a way you hadn't before.
There is no need to hide.
Act as if there is no judgement,
but only your soul and the stars.

— The End —