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Beauty is in
The eyes of the beholder
The heart of the lover
And the mind of the seer
They swoon and swoon
For her affections before noon
To sweep her off her
delicate little feet for dinner
Competition is swift for her
Aggressive and quick for her
They all want to be her first love
The purest and most innocent--
of all things, the heart of the untouched
And the unloved
She wears little white dresses,
skips on sundays, cleans up her messes,
and curls her hair for brunch
The beholder, lover and seer call her name
But she thinks they're all kind of lame
For she isn't into those gentlemen
No, no, not one bit
They just don't seem to match her wit
She is luminous, brighter than most
Just because she's beautiful
Doesn't make her delusional
may change things later EH

dutiful?
 Dec 2012 Miko
Leah Ward
I inhaled sparks.
Because sparks are love.
And cigarette butts
Aren't sparks anymore,
Just papery ash,
But some have a few
Sparks left over.

I inhaled sparks
from the cigarette ash
Of a cigarette
Of a Giant.
In his station wagon  
He saw me wandering
Down the side of the highway
Looking for that fix.
He rolled down his window
Tapped his cigarette against the edge
And spent sparks flying.
I waited as they
Floated towards my nostrils and
I inhaled sparks
That were actually ash
But I didn't know any better.
 Dec 2012 Miko
Seán Mac Falls
November shades down,
Single colour trumping all—
  .  .  .  Bluebirds in grey sky.
 Dec 2012 Miko
Dennis Meeker
I'm sending in an application.
This will be an indication.
If they accept me I will be happy.
I will go to a wonderful university.

I have wanted to go here for a while.
I will have a lot of work in a pile.
I can't wait to hear back.
I will have my life on track.

I will probably end up in a sob.
I will find a job.
I will grow up soon.
My application will be sent by noon.

I can for sure say I'm nervous.
Before I know it I'll be saying,"at your service!"
I'm scared to move on.
My new life will soon dawn.
 Dec 2012 Miko
Kaitie
Insides
 Dec 2012 Miko
Kaitie
Did you know about the insides?
The parts of them they keep secret?
They'll never talk about it, and you'll never hear about it.
In where there are hopes and dreams
frustrations, tears and scars,
warm memories and fears.

Within the outline of skin,
There are secrets held within.
Impenetrable mist,
A fog so thick,
I lost myself in you,

I grew and grew,
Sprouted my roots,
And sauntered into the gloom,

I see your shape slowly fade,
Gradual, painful, oh how-
The mist overcame you,

Swallowed you up,
Cozy and tight,
It the dark midst of the night,

I searched and searched,
To see you again,
Under the street-light,

Where we first met,
First loved,
And first saw the night,

For what it was,
What it is,
And what it’s meant to be,

This fog will never clear,
You fade away,
And I slowly decay,

Into the mist,
Into the dark and cold,
Wishing and waiting,

For the time I see you again.
 Dec 2012 Miko
Samuel
you can hold my heart and feel its rain
      and pretend my dreams don't scare
                                           sleep away, but

be found, be
   now where I need you if
                    anything at all builds
                           us up like a wall, keeps
                         me around, dusty brick
silence spreads across this empty space
all things still, all things in their place
shallow breaths, exaggerated sighs
with your hand intertwined in mine

I want you here, I want you close
because you’re the one I want the most
stay darlin’ please say you will
lets just lay around and be still

keep me happy, keep me sane
keep me saying “come back here again”
I know you know, that I know too
now I no longer am feeling so blue
 Dec 2012 Miko
PoetWhoKnowIt
Do not tick off the
kindly clock that stops and tocks
to you in whispers
Bleached walls, and incandescent lights
The mind illustrates it’s own world
With dreams, desires and abstractions
What it wants, but can never have

Droned out vocalization, and exaggerated sighs
The mind fills in the gaps
With chatter, remarks and laughs
What it wants, but can never have

Concrete floors, and tiled ceilings
The mind creates it’s own scenery
With grasses, mosses and trees
What it wants, but can never have

Constant progression, and flooded walkways
The mind orchestrates it’s own utopia
With sunshine, breeze and cloudless skies
What it wants, but can never have
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