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Sometimes I feel like the devil cut me open
and riped out my heart and guts
put himself inside of me
and sewd me from the inside
and no one knows it but me
 Jan 2011 PK Wakefield
Alexa Sz
Elle sourit au soleil
elle chante avec les oiseaux
elle danse dans le matin
et elle dort la nuit
la fleur donne de l'amour dans le monde
La fleur donne de l'amour dans moi  

translation


It smiles to the sun
It sings with the birds
It dances in the morning
and it sleeps at night
the flower gives love to the world
the flower gives love to me
 Jan 2011 PK Wakefield
r h e a
A LOVE

like,
Meditation
the air an invisible river
mind instant in,
the winged like
fluttering.

the storm!!!..

We find ease
We walk together, in time
flashes and
invisible scars

Our joys
make visits
pains mapped out..deleted.
holding silence..serene
going along with
times toughest reaches.

Sometimes empty mist..
forms.
rainbows
drawing shapes
Nothingness
becomes meanings.
Never forgetting..
that life gave life
to A Love thats
Constantly near
It all bleeds from my head over the walls
I try to bleed but they just was not high enough
can't teast what I have hidden away
the secert passage of time
or be it as it may?

Sounding like a stoner
need it not be it

I try to understand FOCUS
on the dark part FOCUS
on the lost part FOCUS
scratch the whisper in my mind FOCUS

feeling  Excited yet weik
it comes from the sand

DON'T REACT
QUIT!
Bring it all out of me

falling....
Falling......
Falling.........
Say it again & again

SUFFER

hold it underneath
little red sneakers

TENDER

Quit...can you hear it?

Just a strum of you're guitar
do you really know the real me?
Why is it you look so uncomphterbul?
To me we all look exactly the same

DO IT!

So we forgive & forget
and move on
so scary how together we seem to melth away
and if you blink you miss it
then feel it on the flore
time is just another lie

unsatisfactory

DON'T BELIEVE IT

skito 666
This was never a poem, just the writing I do to calm myself
it's allways scary things I don't even remember
or understand, sometimes it's good so I hold on to it like this one.
Written in 2007
I have something I need to tell you,
but I don't know how it will make you fell....

I think I don't want you to look at me anymore...
It makes me feel UGLY.

I still feel you on my skin
I still teast you on my tounge
I dream of you,

YOU ARE STILL THE WORM IN MY HEAD

I can't just go back in time
when you where my bedtime story
my hand too hold
my hero
my milk
my love

YOU CANT LOOK AT ME ANYMORE

it BURNS my skin
it TURNS my stomach
it brings tears to my eyes....

I KILLED US
I use to have a friend but my she is DEAD
dyed with 16 butterflys in her head
she was starved and skinny
bleached and blond
but she NEVER smiled...

Her brother was a gansta WANNABE
when ever I saw her, he looked at me
I never knew why she hated him
I never understod why he call her MAGOT
or why being her friend ment i shall
NEVER look at him...

Her mom left 1 week after her was birth
she wished she was barried in the dirt
I guess she never held her
I guess she never loved her
all I know it is she ONLY called her *****
and only saw her 1 time
the 2 of them and crystal in there lungs...

Her dad was kinda scary
he drove a big big truck
he was a big big ****
he showed her how to play getar
and how to fight
he showed her how LOVE him
and how to HATE gerself...

But now this girl is dead
choked on her  blood
drowned in her  tears
cut in to SO meny pices
broken like she allways was and now to Roth...

I had a friend so beautiful
so fun and so alive
and the truth is she is not really dead
we only wish she was...
Is this a poem?
Meg cuts herself I can't believe
that....
No one reacts to my poetry...
It's like weading to my mom...
I'm Meg
I'm not sayin I cut my self
or that I don't...
I did not say anything
I'd like to have some comments on my poems

I have allmost 800 followers on twitter

I bet meg has one
that geek that love her...
Lalalala elmos world!
 Jan 2011 PK Wakefield
kdpgrahi
When dawn unfolds on a town's older region
Sunrise crawls across cobblestone streets
Autumn break speaks its opening greets
I say an urban dream world comes into vision

I walk these archaic avenues alone
Following the lead of my oversized shadow
Astringent cold awakens my face and neck
While a glinting sun slowly pats my back

Past gothic fencing and cream-colored brick
Concrete bridges veined with vines
Damp shades of wood stare from the park
A fountain shines at the heart of the square

The muffled click of claws against curb
From blackbirds prodding the lower scenery
Shares the air with benevolent fumes
Of bakery bread and chimney smoke

Porch lights fading in soft succession
The radius of light extends its exuberance
Reflections expanding in dark shop windows
The first opened door soon taints the silence

In time the usual routines exude
An old piece of map slowly stirs to life
Another new chapter from torn, yellowed pages
Is resurrected into a tangible shape & stripe
kdpgrahi@2011
The one I love
The one I hate
I can spend
Equall amounts of time
Thinking of both
It requires
The same amount of energies
Just opposite
Or maybe the same
Both passionate
One positive
One negative
If you can say love is good
Or that hate is bad
Really
You can't
Both may reap
The same results
They can tear you apart
And pull you together again
It is as water and fire
Both may destroy
And bothe may mend
Warm a freezing child
Burn a weeping mother
Quench a deadly thirst
Drown a foolish man
My words may not tell
My intended tale
But you will take what you will
For I cannot controll your feelings
Any,ore than I controll
My versa vice
One and the same
Both
Hated and loved
Burning and drowning me
Warmings and quenching my thirst
Saving and killing
And versa vice
dry eyes and tired time
heart race but quiet mind
take this, chest unclench and
mind swims in liquid
weary rest on a bed with
warm blankets to tighten like
straps

no boundaries, really
except for the fear
of compounds and
being right when you were alone
in the dark
in the first place
Grace Culloton (c) 2010
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