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The beat of my heart makes it difficult
not to be blinded
by the reality of my own thoughts
when they are broken down within the sounds
of my dreams.
Yet, no one hears the wind
running through my mind
and I find nothing is
as it seems.

All I do is race to hide from the smoke of lies
to find subtle truth
inside of uncertainties colors
but what I come across
means nothing to you.  
When I drift off to sleep I bleed mirrored glass
until I forget about the bruises
for a moment
or two.

I want someone to listen to the words I speak
even when breezes fill their hands
and time goes by quicker
than the air they tasted.  
No longer do I wish to live and breathe
In this life of empty rooms
where my heartbeat
is wasted.

Tonight I sit and weave faith upon grounds
where forever
I have searched through eyes
that paint my mistakes with words
of ecstasy.  
Yet still, the beat of my heart
makes it difficult
not to be blinded  by love,
even when
I know....
you lie to me.
Copyright @20l2 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
 May 2012 mûre
F White
Outer Reach
 May 2012 mûre
F White
today I severed the kite string
so I could
instead,
tattoo it into my heart.

when I take the xray
there it will
be.
I promise. The metal line
or silken tie, (whichever you prefer)
will lie there
on the light board

I will put it in the sky
or in a field
on a bus
I will show everyone

We will see it from space.
and when you close your eyes
I will dance with you
in my mind.

no matter where
no matter when
no matter how long
because our threads
are that strong.
copyright fhw, 2012
 May 2012 mûre
Kayla
Potential
 May 2012 mûre
Kayla
I get out of your bed with the fire escape on my mind,
First I must put on my clothes. But I have to do it beautifully
The tables have turned, It looks like I’m headed out early
Rather than you seeing me out, walking me to my car
“You’re leaving?” you say, “This early?”

I make up a horrible excuse, halfway on purpose
Truth is, I’m trying to skip the part
Where you rise up from the tangled sheets
And say “I’ll walk you out darling”

This time it’s me prematurely walking out on you
I’m not supposed to be here anyway
In this house. This haunted maze of a house
With you and your roommates

Who quietly walk up and down the stairs, wondering
What is it between us, that keeps me coming back
Truth is, I’m not entirely sure either
It could be the taboo of it all

But I think the reasons are much more simple
Letting go is impossible
 May 2012 mûre
Sacrelicious
The hour hand's on 10.
&
The minute's on 4.

I think,
I know.

Half of me died
with you.

Way back,
when,
October nights weren't
so
******'
lonely.

Until my other half
gives in.
I'll be your;

1/2-ghost,
earth-bound.
Sun.

For the "time" being,
I'll catch you on the
astral plane.
&
I'll see you in my dreams.

</3

When your life line
stops running,
across your body's
support screen.

What time
will your clock
stop at?

Time doesn't exist,
I will
ALWAYS
be here.
<3
 Apr 2012 mûre
Marsha Singh
Perhaps not love – at least akin,
this shatterbelt of sheets and limbs.
Our hearts break for the smallest things,

but if we're just two burning bees
in a forest full of cardboard trees,
I wish for drought, dry leaves, a breeze.
Marooned

Vapid beauty of this room
Frothing carpet, ocean blue
One wall me, the other you
What lies between is residue

Scribed on soggy, shipwrecked parchment
Questions asked, time forgotten
Who are we?
What do we know?
Into these questions Summer flows
And thrashes at your Autumn’s brinks
Yearlong they torment my brain
Infringing on every season

If not for the manic scheme
To love and having loved be loved
This correspondence to a distant land
With stars, more numerous and brightly lit
Than my burgeoning highway exit
Would by no means have left my hand

But if, against all odds, it will prevail
Extolling truth’s folly, my sorrowful tale
Quells with reason my groundless pride
At having docked on your passionless harbor
Unloading platonic cargo during our youth’s ebbing tide
Must not create union of body or mind
You swallow my horizon, like the sun twilight
Though, one need not chase that orange orb for tomorrow

In this night without fortitude, lewd humor consumes me
Singing with the mouth on my head and your voice inside
I plunge into darkness
Skimming its silky surface
Before zipping it behind me

Shall I drown, as I have lived?
In vain, my dreams your subjects
Taken for ransom in your heart’s Tripoli
Not surmising recompense, I forfeit this
A note belying resonance
Of my heart’s last echoed throe
One desperate effort, giving up
Feed every vestige to the void
Wading, torso encumbered
Each sullen relic of your memory
Falls to the deep’s frigid ebony
Then, only too late am I cognizant
That my own breath is tribute yet spent
Therefore if I were to float or swim
I’d give you every ounce of who I am
Convince you to relinquish me
From your tepid, spurning sea
Then lying beneath moist underbrush
Slowly, breathe no more
MMX

This is basically a revision of my poem Anstoss

My recitation here:
http://youtu.be/v7LdsUwUCEM
 Apr 2012 mûre
S.R Devaste
at first when you take off
the world just looks small

a dollhouse, a miniature world
an amusing punchline to an old joke
a fantasy tinged with g-force and sprite in clear cups

but as the sky darkens and the plane lifts higher

the world seems to drown in blackness
an inky clarity of night not confused by clouds
and suddenly it is as if you are at the top on an ocean
looking at a far away ocean floor
crawling with foreign creatures with all of their bones lit up
over coral reefs of light and movement
parking lots like stationary jelly fish and highways like currents
of neon veins pumping lights and cars

all of the world's exoskeleton is illuminated
and it is beautiful and movable  
it is nature's patterns played out in electricity

but the farther out you go
the more the sharpness and geometry of the roads and cities
attack the eye

and the coral reefs turn to computer motherboards
all of man's ingenuity and beauty no longer draping the world
but ordering it

into squares and jagged lines
into distant pixel pinpricks
into maps

until you're not traveling through the world
but over it
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