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 Aug 2014 Stephen M
Yarelis
Sounds
 Aug 2014 Stephen M
Yarelis
There are good sounds
and bad sounds.
There are those we want to hear
and those we don't.

There are sounds that make some smile:
     the voice of a person,
     a baby's first cry,
     the melody of a song,
     the chirping of birds in the sky.

There are sounds that make some frown:
     the sound of a gun firing,
     military trumpets at a funeral,
     the sound of a phone ringing
     when it's an unwanted call.

But those that make some frown
also fills others with joy,
and those that make some smile
could be the misery of a young boy.

Sounds can repair,
and sounds can destroy.
8/18/14
 Aug 2014 Stephen M
Sjr1000
We've become a
civilization of diseases
we build
monuments
statues
institutions
thinking death won't ever find
us here.

Our minds are scrambled
our bodies are damaged
our food is poisoned
our skies are toxic
our vices
are forces of processes
beyond our
control.

When we are not humbled
by nature's power
we inflict our wounds
upon ourselves in
the names of greed
and self protection
and no one knows
what it really means.

Fearful of the silence
we fill our skies with
endless noise
babbling on in endless
monotones, droning
while traffic stalls
at a hot stand still
idling engines
idling souls
depletion of every last glimpse
of the past.
Jam packed
in the stench
I am lost today
in
this vitriol
as anxiety, death and desperation
from every corner
screams my name.

That's why I came
to these woods
where the illusion of
peace remains
as
wild fires burn
just down the lane
as you know
as you say
its always been this way
when bodies hung
at every cross-roads
hunger, power, ignorance
and strength
all ran
the show.

I'm sick with
every disease I
know.

I float upon these tranquil
blue waters
and
we are reminded of the peace we all
really can know.
 Aug 2014 Stephen M
Megan Grace
y  o  u
a l w a y s
told    m e    i
was too  skinny
but no no no i am
beautiful, i am strong
(stronger than i used to
imagine i  could be)  and
my heart is still thumping
like   it   has   been   for   all
these   centuries   i've   lived
even after losing you, even
after feeling like i wasn't
enough  to   make  you
happy.    b u t    jesus
c h r i s t    i    w a s
enough     i    was
enough   i   a m
e n o u g h   .
 Aug 2014 Stephen M
Mercurychyld
There are days
when the rain seems
like nothing more
than inconvenience,
and puddles, messes,
and noise.

More often than not, though,
the rain has been a friend,
a companion of sorts.

It has lessened the
loneliness in moments
of grief and despair,
as it shared in
inconsolable
and silent tears.

It has covered me
like a warm blanket,
as it washed away
the fears.

More often than not,
the rain has been
a path to renewal,
a baptism most sacred.

Even the melody
and timber of the rain
has often soothed me,
like white noise
can comfort a
restless child.

The rain can consume
and wash out
and drown,
pushing unwanted
memories and dreams
down an any-named road,
for miles and miles.

For me, more often
than not,
it provides shroud
and cover from the sun’s
intense heat,
inspiring gratitude
and most joyful
smiles.



~ by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
 Aug 2014 Stephen M
Nickols
Just give me a reason,
to get my heart beating.
As the world falls apart around us,
all we can do is hold on
and take my hand.

I'd risk everything for you,
reaching into the denial,
risking loosing my mind.

Just reach for my hand.

You might call me crazy,
but I'd stand on the edge,
till there's nothing left,
waiting for the end.

Say another word,
because I doubt I could hear you,
with the silence between us.

Just reach for my hand.

I'd do anything for you,
while asking "why are you such trouble?"
From our first kiss,
your eyes held wide...
(why were they open?)

Just give me a reason,
to get my heart beating.
As the world falls apart around us,
all we can do is hold on
and take my hand.

Just reach for me.
She worked part-time as a seamstress,
An ordinary sort of girl,
But one with a dash of blue-eyed wit,
An endearing brunette curl.
I’d plucked up the courage to ask her out,
For me it was more than like,
And everything seemed to be going well
Before the lightning strike.

One day we walked to the countryside
By the fields of wheat and hay,
Rambling on by the hedgerows there
On a darkening Autumn day.
I stole a kiss in a grove of trees
From the lips that taste like wine,
And then she whispered her love for me
All coy, with her eyes a-shine.

The clouds were gathering overhead
And soon it began to rain,
We sought some shelter, under a ledge
Right next to a field of grain,
But she was nervous, clung to my hand
When the thunder growled on high,
‘The gods are grumbling over the land,’
She said, and began to cry.

I said, ‘There’s nothing to fret about,
It’s only an Autumn storm,
We’ll just stay here and we’ll wait it out,’
But Michelle was lost, forlorn.
A mighty clap came from overhead
And she screamed, ran out in the rain,
When a bolt of lightning struck her there,
A flash, then a shriek of pain!

I dashed on out, and I picked her up
But her clothes were burned and charred,
Her hair was white and it stood on end,
Full of some potent charge.
She rolled her eyes and she looked at me
Her face, a panic attack,
And then I saw that her sky-blue eyes
Had turned to a deep jet black.

The clouds were tumbling overhead
Though the rain was passing on,
The lightning strikes were further away
She cried, ‘Has the thunder gone?’
She sat there trembling in my arms
But focussed her gaze on high,
And said at last, as she stared above,
‘There are demons up in the sky!’

She spent a month in the hospital
And they said she’d be okay,
I’ll never forget the way she looked
When I picked her up that day,
She huddled up in the car and said,
‘The world outside has changed,
For fire and flashes are everywhere
There’s a lightning strike in my brain.’

‘And now, in the darkest corners I
Have visions of swarms of rats,
While up in the eaves, and waiting there,
A host of vampire bats,
There’s crawling things that I didn’t see
Before, when my eyes were blue,
And awful spiders with fourteen legs,
Right now, they’re crawling on you.’

I took her home, and put her to bed,
I thought that she needed rest,
A week went by, but she’d sit and cry,
I thought she was quite obsessed.
Then I started hearing crawling things
At night, when I went to sleep,
And woke to a creature on my chest
That made my own flesh creep.

There’s demons up in the clouds,’ she said,
‘And fires scorching the ground,
And everywhere that I look, I see
Where evil spirits abound.’
I couldn’t take it a moment more,
These things invaded my mind,
I did what anyone else would do,
And now, Michelle is blind!

David Lewis Paget
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