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A wish is lost
In an instant. Outside
The street that never sleeps
Festers below sheets
Of bitter rain. Your eyes burn in

Words you cannot read.
Concrete shimmers in the
Gleam of a million tears.
The sky above is thick with years
Of tar, like an enormous pavement.

Eyes shut, but still
Blue light permeates the
Shallow barrier of your hands,
Corruptions of sin, and fear,
And silence. You try to scream, but
You do not know how.
A poem about corporate control.
#2 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
I thought I never will,
give my heart a chance to be broke again.

I forgot everything I used to feel and love.
You made me embrace it all again.

Seeing brighter now in the dark
for you are standing on the other side.

You teach me
to learn a love unlearned.
Your name
Is so blood thirsty now
It can no longer
Cross the threshold of my lips
The wind roars —
then stills to listen
to the spoken grandeur
from the soul of the
angry autumn sky
Its quickly moving grandeur
moving  way beyond
a trailing moment's wake

   Change often goes voiceless —
the autumn wind
needs not consent
to bare the trees;
disguising all symmetry
of yesterdays fleeting glance

Overarching that which
can no longer be
   as it once was —
A  bitter cold gust preys
on this aging bark
stirring to the roots
of my soul

Will true nature’s  
powerful essence
ever reshape the scars
these wind-whipped
human feather's
mask ? 

   The wind roars —
   then stills to listen ,...

and I wonder why
I can’t be the change
I see

Stillwater in the wind


Jesse Stillwater ... November 2nd, 2018
001
Dank memes
And dark dreams
Welcome to my mind
Where thoughts viciously bide
And where I go to hide
001
How many more springs will be granted.
Springs where seeds and flowers are planted.
How long will the filthy rain sustain the vigor
Of tender shoots so green and innocently eager.
We spew out human seed to take root on earth,
Lessening its space, its value and its worth.
How long until we are world of ants scurrying,
Everything trampled by the constant hurrying.
We have chipped the beauty away into rows
of ticky-tacky houses where nothing grows.
Where are the jungles, the forest primeval.
Not now but air and water that are lethal.
Oh, mourn the earth of beauteous expanse.
Now no beauty can be found with a glance.
Mayhaps we will survive - but maybe not. . .
between progress and the lessons taught.
Sleep well sweet Earth, beautiful orb.
I am an environmentalist and try to work for that through my art.
I woke up this morning in
an America I did not recognize
So many years of just drifting,
certain of her elasticity
her ability to shake off
the parasites and naysayers
Now I see a buffoon where
lesser buffoons have capered
Why do I imagine that under
that bleached wave, are the
numbers 666?
Wake up all you who have
slept beside me, drifting
in the false safety that is not
We must dust off our shoes
and march again, doggedly
and without reservation.
We must demand justice and change...
peacefully and forcefully.
For this nation is one person
who stands up and says - "Enough!"
My wheelchair and your legs
must gather others and refuse
to be silent - evermore.
personal rant
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Like a lovely beast
poetry devoured me.

With its sharp tongue it cut me,
leaving its poetic scares.

It moved into the darkest places
lighting a blaze egger to spread
beyond my imagination.

It overflowed the rim of my cup,
slowly flooding the pages you read.

My lips once dehydrated and chapped, now my thirst has been quenched
by the need to write.

Poetry devoured me transforming
me into a poetic format.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton
I am going to work on a project. I am going to write a book called Ashen Rose Darkly Written, Between The Weeds Grow My Poetic Roots. I am going to look for free self publishing websites. Wish me luck. ♥️
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