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aurora  Apr 2015
you
aurora Apr 2015
you
7 oclock
I pull up to the house where the party is at
Which happens to be your house
And I can see that the place is packed
But I already know that no matter how many people are in those rooms
I will be alone

9 oclock
2 hours and only four shots in
And I am not yet drunk enough to be having a good time

11 oclock
I saw you looking at me from across the room
And maybe it was just the alcohol
But I could've swore I saw longing in your eyes

1 oclock
I left without saying goodbye
Because I knew if I opened my mouth around you my lips would carry themselves to yours

2 oclock**
I couldn't stop thinking of you on my ride home
And I hated myself for avoiding you
The crash of metal against metal that filled my ears was surprisingly enough to make my thoughts stop
Marci Ace  Apr 2015
Black Coffee
Marci Ace Apr 2015
I sometimes wonder
What morning think.
I sometimes wonder when, where, and why
My eye lashes blink.
I wanted to relax,
Take time and think.
Meditate before I start my day.
Before the sun came up and show the
World beautiful displays.
I wanted to write my poetry,
And recite my words,
Put curves of my life on paper
So my voice can no longer
Be heard.
I wanted to pick flowers,
Pray,
And grant wishes,
Maybe.
Just maybe,
I wanted to eat my breakfast,
And not clean the dishes.
Call it a lazy morning,
Before the sun comes up.
Its 4’oclock,
And the coffee makers is empty,
Right along with my cup.
It’s 5’oclock,
And yet the sun hasn’t risen.
I think I’ll play soft reggae.
Close my eyes,
And just listen.
It’s 6’oclock,
Maybe 6:30.
The sun is now up,
And the mocking birds
Are in a hurry.
Reggae,
And my curved lines are still
Telling a story.
It seems like
The coffee is on,
And my cup is ready.
My mind has stimulated.
My words are now written.
7’oclock is almost near,
And my coffee has started Beginning.

       Marci H.
It was almost 10 oclock, their eyes heavy as rocks, Erik and Jamal headed home
The fork in the road that they've always known to mean they tread on all alone
They made their embrace and started their pace and Erik did not hasten much
Jamal however was quick to endeavor, because mama had told him to rush
They walked their separate ways, reflected on their days, and coveted what tomorrow would bring
At that very moment, their train of thought stolen, by the bellow of sirens they sing
A large police van rolled upon each young man, and flashed a light on each of their face
They told Erik hurry, his mom needn't worry, yet they questioned young Jamal's pace
They told him get down, he got on the ground and struggled in his discomfort
Erik heard a bang in the night, that had gave him a fright, and thought to himself where'd it come from?
I have studied the tight curls on the back of your neck
moving away from me
beyond anger or failure
your face in the evening schools of longing
through mornings of wish and ripen
we were always saying goodbye
in the blood in the bone over coffee
before dashing for elevators going
in opposite directions
without goodbyes.

Do not remember me as a bridge nor a roof
as the maker of legends
nor as a trap
door to that world
where black and white clericals
hang on the edge of beauty in five oclock elevators
twitching their shoulders to avoid other flesh
and now
there is someone to speak for them
moving away from me into tomorrows
morning of wish and ripen
your goodbye is a promise of lightning
in the last angels hand
unwelcome and warning
the sands have run out against us
we were rewarded by journeys
into desire
into mornings alone
where excuse and endurance mingle
conceiving decision.
Do not remember me
as disaster
nor as the keeper of secrets
I am a fellow rider in the cattle cars
watching
you move slowly out of my bed
saying we cannot waste time
only ourselves.
Olivia Andrews  Jun 2016
4am
Olivia Andrews Jun 2016
4am
I have deluded self delusions when the tick goes tock at 4'oclock,
Demons scream from the pinkish grey spongy filled with tar cells of my lungs,
The woods I wander in wondering why there I cannot breathe and you do not heed,
The warnings I whisper through your phone in a melodramatic uncondescending tone,
Met with Mrs. Plath in a black cabin to pour blood from poetic scars whilst drinking from whiskey bottles of poisonous stardust derived from a sandy beach named lost and found insecurities,
At ease my disregarded beauty ever so defined by fiction,
**** its now half past 4'oclock and all I wish to do is pollute the air with dusty ill impaired screams,
I want to scream,
I want to scream,
My blankets envelop me drowning out my ink tears as they drip drip drop stop,
Stop looking at me that way,
Stop talking to me that way,
Oh god don't hate me for my coagulated words!
Trapping myself in-between a sandwich of a multitude of feelings ghastly emotions,
Smiling depression shaking hands with bitter caramel anxiety,
Pirouetting on a trampoline of repetition,
**** it is now 5'oclock I must shut my eyes and dream of when another tick goes tock at 4'oclock.
An anonymous girl ©
Ella  Dec 2009
Christmas Lights
Ella Dec 2009
Raining
Pouring
My dad’s up a ladder,

Wet,
Cold,
Attaching the reindeers antler,

Up
Down
I start to climb,

1’oclock
2’oclock
Taking too much time

To high
Wobbling
Cat’s eating the wire,

I pull
It pulls back
My patience starts to tire,

Mum
Comes out
“It’s in the wrong places”

Goes inside
We take it down
“This is going to take ages”

Cold
Tired
It’s eventually done

Inside
Warming up
“Now wasn’t that fun?”
brandon nagley May 2015
I agape of all finished afterthought, some allude to almanac's packed of alms, some totaled, sold and bought!!
Altruism,pigism, ambiguous to ambitions own an'nals,
Some take fairies to ride, some get high getting annulled on thine way out!!!
Antagonisms councils costumed to personify perverse college boys,
They all wear ties,
Doest thou prepare to die?
Doth thou succumb to heavy metal noise? Subterfuges narrate concert speakers of noose tied voids!!!
Precious,
Precious flamboyant memorizer,
Hath thou memorized to thy fullest privelage?

Art thou the born leader thou claims to be?
Or art thou the slave of thine flattery made village?

This forlorn spirit is burdened down to be free,
To be free of all devils,
All doubts and all deed!!!

Where is ones donational vocational school grads love?
Is it hidden within lockers of broken hearted hunnies?

Doth thy stomach overflow with butterfly fluids?
While many rob you of lovers money,
Dizzy funnies!!!

Hand holders of descendants grumpy mishappers,
Where is love when one seeks so hard for it????!
Delamusiq May 2018
Pillows lay the case to wake up past 3 oclock
Face faded in dreams make razors on cheek comfortable to me
Blond bold because i barely gave red a try
Is breakfast ready for me
Backing beauty with a blue t , turning to me all bright and free , afro messy , eyes maybe brown, maybe green
Did i mention i couldnt see
Reality just came back to me
Even tho these eyes rarely catch seas
I still see star shaped almonds in cereal bowls put before see


Meet her meteor shower plastic kungfu hopes
My mettle met with metal, she was bars for the screen
So in between things, i smell scent and add my two cents
But when change comes short,  gasoline gases up things
Thunder booms and she can never quite see was behindthe bangs
But that's another thing cause cereal is really tho
Another taste of almomd milk cheerios
Marigolds Fever Apr 2019
Becky turns  on her  radio
It’s 4’oclock you see
Says she’s got a date with just me
Her Keds dazzled in red
With thoughts of Psychedelic Furs in her head
Thomas headin home
On the floor of ole truck lies his 80s comb
Hasn’t seen old school in years
The thought brings him to tears
Michael’s on a break
Wants to take time by the lake
Thinkin about Sarah
And that iconic leg warmer era
When she hadn’t worn waterproof mascara
Sarah walkin thru the old store
Hears em say, vintage is a good score
Records musty smell
Makes her feel swell
Polaroid on a shelf
Drifts back to a time of her younger self
Instant prints
Memory hints
Friends together
In spring weather
High school dance
Parachute pants
Puffy sleeve print
Tubular and mint
Neon color
Teenage pustalar
This much is true
With a Converse shoe
Glares, stares and dares
Waves in their hair
Synth-pop
They bop
First crush
They blush
Friendship pins
Shy grins
Floppy disks
The unsaved risks
Laughs enter
In present time
Fallen purse
Fate or curse
Hand holds out a dime
Blank look
Like a old good book
Mumble jumble
Who do you see
lookin back at me
In a flash
It all goes past
Familiar face
Of time & place
If you leave
No one would believe
Together again
It was then
When they remembered when
Copyright © Marigold’s Fever 2019
Thank you  John Hughes
im trying to decide
if this is hell
or heaven
when im eleven oclock ******
and its only seven
ive got enough
to power through until nine or ten
but then im crashing
ill be passing out
and ******* meself
I forgot the space between

— The End —