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 Apr 2015 Sibyl
Joanna Oz
chirp-i-derp chickadee!
flee across the sea with me to seek foreign fantasies,
we won't need anything but our hands our feet our lips reaching.
kick the dust up and make a ruckus,
we were born to spit fire.
funny thing, desire, always takes you into the inferno,
burning the whole, cleanse and resew the form from hollowness.
in all of this we are but sand in the wind,
minuscule molecules floating on the whims of something much greater.
so I plan on claiming myself, and naming myself
captain.
I plan to trust my intuition to bring all my wildest dreams to fruition.
because what is life worth if I concede to to bow and serve the scemes of men who believe they deserve to hold power over me - HA!
as if anyone could mold me hold me fold me up into cookie-cutter slots.
I spit on you!
catch me if you can, big brother,
you might take my body but you'll never touch my soul,
she's already soaring through saturn's rings,
slinging sapphires round to isis and winking at the moon,
being rewoven through the mother's loom,
knit back into the cosmic womb.
now begin again.
 Apr 2015 Sibyl
Joanna Oz
the wispy whiteness draped over the dome of the sky traps in the monstrous feelings loosed from their cages towards the heavens,
reflecting ghoulish mirrors
and refracting the light into saturated hues and heavy-soaked textured clues,
misty condensation of mis-matched questions and answers
muttered to no one in particular,
holding everything in the capsule with dewy fingers slipping at the pocket-knife edges and broken oak branches,
the bark is drunk on acid rain humming oh danny boy again and again,
the clouds are so convinced they love the asphalt
that the whole host has descended from perching atop the dome to bless the wedding of fog to pavement,
croaking bullfrogs make harmonies with the swoosh-swoosh swoosh-swoosh of tires running over rolling over pouring over the beaten concrete creases squeaking teases of open-air releases,
the whole world simultaneously holds it's breath and sighs,
as countless pairs of eyes haze over
in wistful wanting piqued by a wet world.
 Apr 2015 Sibyl
Joanna Oz
endless drip-drop-plopping pling-pop puddles pooling over
their self-constructed boundaries,
spilling into rainbow chem-drip paintings on the darkened pavement,
melting into unseen hues of wetness.
the super-saturated ground continues to collect the leaking of the sky,
compiling samples of the potions spilling from clouds who gathered too much magic to hold onto by themselves.
bustling busy-bodies cower under fabric roofs,
only to be barraged by rising tidal waves rolling at their feet,
sneaky splattering from dirt sick of being stomped upon.
under the cover of brick and mortar
searching eyes are stuck staring out blurred window-panes,
hypnotized by the water-works and
feeling nostalgia for a time when they lived under the sea,
evolutionary longing for ancestral roots that escape understanding.
entranced by the suspended flight and splendid crash landing of
parachute droplets sent through a long descent as singular entities
to dissolve back into a homogenous being at the end of the journey -
separating and reconvening, reforming and dissipating.
drip-drop drip-drop all the same,
everything as everything else under the guise of arbitrary names,
dripping-drop plopping in watery refrain,
I am the same as you are the same as we are the same as the drip-dropping rain.
 Apr 2015 Sibyl
Ivy Swolf
You can taste
the psychosis on my
lips but there's no
guarantee that I will feel it.
There's an umbilical chord
holding me down to ***** reality
and depending on my
perspective
it either looks like a
dog leash or a
noose.

Inject a sedative with a rusty
needle at the end of my
nervous system. I'm immune; there's
misery mixed in with my
white blood cells that swallows
all sense of introspection. When my
soul plummets down like an anchor
and the floating stops
feeling safe, I welcome the chest
pains with open arms. The pins and
needles in my lungs are better
than burning them.

Look through my eyes
and sometimes nothing is real.
Live through my heart and
it hurts like hell when
I'm not drowning in air.
Think with my head and
either you will want to get out,
or it will kick you out.
x
 Apr 2015 Sibyl
Dr Zik
MOON
 Apr 2015 Sibyl
Dr Zik
Moon needs not to conceal its scars
It grasps its own scars and light from the warmth sun
And instead of fading
it brightens more than ever!
When I found myself not able to behave like sun
I decided to surrender
And started reflecting light like moon.
 Apr 2015 Sibyl
A
Another 3am Poem
 Apr 2015 Sibyl
A
3am is an awful place to be, it is not a time, but rather a place.
A despicable destination riddled with heartbreak and despair.
I do not wish 3am on my foremost enemies.
 Apr 2015 Sibyl
DaRk IcE
Darkness is upon me again with its radiant stare bottling up my sorrows as I distantly glare.
      Summoning strength from ancient Gods with endless power beckoning sanity.
                                             Heart retching screams come fourth from my soul in search of you my love.
                           My love... I know I must release you from the pits of my heart, you yelled I was in your way. Im sorry you were my world, there is my confession.
                                     Fear resides inside my chest cavity and grows undetected, spreading like a wild fire on a dry day.
                                               Anxiety ridden through and through I now obey thy master. It is he who rules my sleepless nights and uncontrollable storms overflowing from my eyes.
     Depression threatens to hijack my thoughts so I can do his bidding and have blood on my hands.
       The loneliness is inevitable, as is my aching heart begging to die.
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