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 Aug 2013 Nadrah
John Jordan
I think I found the one
but which one did I find?
so far this fairytale's plot
is at once upon a time
feels like I'm back at 4 years old
with my sleep on hold
waiting with bated breathe
to see how this story unfolds
this is one of those road trips
where the phrase "Are we there yet?"
will never come from my lips
because this trip is about the journey
and I am in no hurry
As a child I used to go and catch butterflies
but now I catch them
every time I look into her eyes
I not trying to be Kraft Mac-n-Cheezy
But I'm falling for her deeply
all I know is
ONCE I feel her embrace, mind body and soul, and  
UPON seeing her smile and hearing her laughter  
A blanket of her warmth tucks me in, filling my holes making it    
TIME to say happily ever after
 Aug 2013 Nadrah
hkr
baby girl
 Aug 2013 Nadrah
hkr
when you are old enough to speak
do not call love
a mental disease
do not resent it, do not fight it
because love is pure
and love is good
it's only when you throw
life into the mix
that it becomes toxic.
i discovered a new belief.
 Aug 2013 Nadrah
2sided2
The flowers
They are alluring
But they are not ours to pluck
They belong to the earth
And they belong to the dirt
Who have fathered them since seed

The flowers
They are delicate
But they are not ours to break
They belong to the sun
And they belong to the sky
Who have mothered then since sprout

We pick flowers
And give them to the ones we love most
Not ever realizing we are killing a living thing

We pull petals from the stem
Screaming "They love me, They love me not"
Not even realizing we are taking a life

From something
We can't even take a second
Of our time to appreciate



What does that show about us..?
My life is like a poem;
And a pure sleep that lasts forever.
Ah, sleep-sleep that is more flamboyant than the stars;
But for which I have not prayed; about which I have not even started.

My life is like a wind;
A wind that grows, within a pair of wings unseen.
My blood groans and roars as it steps forward;
My heart flips and leaps as it falls in love.

Ah, a love that arrived between roads foreign;
A love that slayed me, and tasted my juicy kiss;
Like a tame note, like a flood of roses;
Love that lights my rocks, and burdens my abyss.

And when everything is deaf and purely abysmal;
I shall bloom still, and glistening as rainfalls.
I shall listen to its greedy calls;
I shall begin my poem-as I'm thus hiding, behind the walls!

And the rain shall pour but bleak water;
A water so small, and thereby impure.
But thy eyes are like its earth-that stills and clarifies it;
And thy charms are magnets that charge-and wondrously cure!

As though I have ne'er been mystified;
When I am heartily scared-palely challenged and petrified.
I am but burnt, within this unmuttered torment;
But to my praise I stay loyal, and defined unbent.

Ah, Nikolaas, shalt thou be mine-and be my shield?
Shalt thou rewind my bones that have slept?
As far as I know, this poetry can no-one build;
Loves that other hearts shape; loves that their doubts have kept.

Ah, Nikolaas, shalt thou melt my, my very insane heart?
Of which thy breath hath owned a part;
I shall kiss thee; through thy mint arms-and thy cold sleeves;
I shall be the prettiest goddess God'll ever give.

Oh, Nikolaas, and shall thou purify my rain?
And liberate these tears-and their art of pain;
And let thy heart be the one I judge;
Make me all over sweet-like two twin bars of silky fudge.

And shalt be thou ***** by my shy verse?
For thou hath freed, and forgiven my bare universe;
I am in love, I am riding its wheels;
I am on the moon, no-one knows yet-how grateful I feel.

And Nikolaas, but shalt thou be my moon itself?
Over my darkness, thou shalt stay gripping and smiling;
And to my touches, thou shalt be forever truth;
Unlike this lone stranded poem-which thinks but stays mute;
Thou shalt be mine-on this wan land and in the keen hereafter;
Even when death is dubious-I shall remain and love thee like this; just as I do now-and perhaps forever.
 Aug 2013 Nadrah
Sean Critchfield
I got caught caring again.
I got caught believing the little lies were light and that they marked the end of the tunnel.
I got caught letting my mind slip to the hairs on my pillowcase turning gray but always smelling like her.
I got caught believing that beautiful things last and promises are things we intend to keep.
I got caught hoping.
Hoping that my forever wasn't the losing half of a wishbone.
Hoping that storms passed and the sails, though tattered, would be true.
Hoping that my brand of love was not a fools errand. Not folly.
I got caught up.
Caught up in all the things we said we'd do.
Caught up in plans and promises and kisses and contracts.
Caught up in a ball of yarn so dense that it felt like a forest in my heart and I with no way to see the path for the trees. Until I saw the trees for the path.
Caught up in every should have. Every would have. Every childish want for a do-over.
I got caught waiting. Biding time. Angry. Jealous. Hopeful. Discontent. Capitol. And sipping wine with Etheridge Knight when I knew the Knight was darkest before the dawn.
I got caught in the middle. The rope in a tug of war between my head and my heart.
I got caught gnashing my teeth in futility. Clawing the roots, begging the tree to move.
I got caught wandering a path around the outskirts of the hole in my chest like a crater.
I got caught lying. Trying to convince myself that I was better off and better for it and better when the soles of my feet touch open road.
But the wine is sour. And the trees are burnt. and the dawn has come.
And I will not be caught again.

— The End —