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Mimi Nov 2011
I’m knitting something new,
it feels good.
The new ball of yarn unraveling like time
but I’ve still got plenty left.
There’s potential in this dark teal wool
and satisfaction when I decide
the way I want to weave it.
I make mistakes, I change them
to become part of the pattern.
The stitches are like a song in my head,
I sing them, I tap them out with my foot
and whistle along to the tune I’ve made up.
I thought it might be a hat when I saw the skein
but now I know it will be an
infinity scarf.
My six inches of beaded rib is a metaphor for my worries.
Working my hands intricately help me forget them.
I have time.
Yes, I am a nerd.
Jose Diaz Dec 2012
I was a little crazy boy,
always lost in the twilight,
Maybe I was a little strange
a shy boy at the scene...
You was so beautyfull,
sweet innocent flower,
sweet honey scent
a shy girl in the scene...

eyes lost illusion,
entranced girl's heart,
bewitching fairy
brown hair and smiling,
happy rainbow...
Summer colors I will never forget.
Fuji Bear Apr 2014
They think they see through the prison that they call home
I see them all around me
Their Eyes with tinted seals
A one way mirror.
Unescapable, improbable, impossible.
How they think they can live
In this cage
Nothing but an observer
Of a wild illusion
Life is what holds them
Rooted to a false reality.
But true freedom will never begin
Until someone sets them free.
First Poem. Enjoy.
ZWS May 2014
Sitting solid on a thinking throne
Drinking bottles that sing melancholy tones
Singing lone, resonating to your bones
Your fragile little frame cannot save the show
Not when you're casting skys clouding with crows

Your mind is pale, sick to it's stomach
Everything up there can't reconcile, but luck
It's begun to resonate quietly like a comets tail
When your playing on mental jungle gyms of shale

I'm sure there's things that keep you up
Drugs, and alcohol, and fasting all day
A cyclical belt of asteroid tales
You think so much you've burnt an image
Of cotton dreams, so soft and harsh, but somehow sail
You may never grasp them, but you've reached so far you've become so frail

It's hard to try, it's even harder to pry
Open your heart, and let yourself cry
The castles you build are built of tears, and the cemetery near is calling your fears
The foundation is weak, and your pastor you seek, but everything you've found thus far, oblique
Cast your shadows as you will, but they're just funny puppets you've conjured in the night still
Education is important
Even for a sloth
Except I learn different things
Like what can kill you
And what can poison you
And how to survive a wild, non-adhesified animal attack
And stuff
I think that is more important
Than Math or Science
Humans are silly. They forget how to survive in nature. That is sad :(
Foolish prater, what dost thou
So early at my window do?
Cruel bird, thou’st ta’en away
A dream out of my arms to-day;
A dream that ne’er must equall’d be
By all that waking eyes may see.
Thou this damage to repair
Nothing half so sweet and fair,
Nothing half so good, canst bring,
Tho’ men say thou bring’st the Spring.
Shancoduff My black hills have never seen the sun rising,

Eternally they look North towards Armagh.

Lot's wife would not be salt if she had been

Incurious as my black hills that are happy

When dawn whitens Glassdrummond chapel.

My hills hoard the bright shillings of March

While the sun searches in every pocket.

They are my Alps and I have climbed the Matterhorn

With a sheaf of hay for three perishing calves

In the field under the Big Forth of Rocksavage.

The sleety winds fondle the the rushy beards of Shancoduff

While the cattle - drovers sheltering in the Featherna Bush

Look up and say: "Who owns them hungry hills

That the water - hen and snip must have forsaken?

A poet? Then by heavens he must be poor."

I hear and is my heart not badly shaken?
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