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Poetry is a struggle
But sometimes it just arrives
A thought in your head
Peace, hope and love.
But always remember that beauty is free.
****, I sound like a hippie,
And I don't even smoke ****.
Labels are stupid though.
Do all hippies even smoke ****?
Whatever, I'm just me.
And honestly, that's all I can be.
I have ears that listen
And a mouth that speaks.
A mind that rarely shuts off.
Eyes wide open
And a heart full of love.
I think the combination may be deadly to one's soul.
Because in all honestly, if ever you have the privilege to know me.
To really know me.
You'll always feel like you're missing something when you don't anymore.
When you don't have me.
I feel at times I give pieces of myself to people that I will never get back.
But it's not a loss of my pieces.
It's a gain to touch lives.
I'll always stay inside.
You.
You'll never be able to forget me.
Even if you try.
 Apr 2016 stone the bear
Chloe
The most magical thing to happen to me
was when my mind took a break from reality
and got too lost in a fantastical fantasy.
When your brain has as many fractures
as mine it’s really only a matter of time
before your cheese slides off your *******.
I was the Prophet of God.
And my declaration of the coming apocalypse
ruined any semblance of credibility I might’ve had.
Paranoia kept my mouth shut about the happenings in my head.
I couldn’t trust anyone with my skewed truth.
They would’ve only diluted my message.
When you go crazy your fantasy feels like reality.
I had all the answers, or so I thought.
So I took down names, initials
of the people I wanted to save.
I prepared myself for the violence and
the responsibility of taking care of my people.
And I prayed probably more than I ever had in my life.
Because I was the Prophet of God.
It's not about the number of poems
I make but about touching
hearts of those in need of
an invisible hand and
about
improving
the quality
of my touch...
So I'd rather
have one piece touch 1000 souls
than a 1000 pieces that won't
send out even a single ripple
to the million limpid hearts...
I'm all about squeezing a smile
out of those hardened by grief
subsequently finding self relief
The first time you hear
"Beauty is pain"
Is when your mother is brushing tangles
Out of your hair
You're too young to care

The next time
Is when you're getting your hair done
For an event
Bobby pins everywhere
And this time it sticks

Your legs sting
After you shave them
For the first time
But you remind yourself
Beauty is pain
And go on with your day

You remind yourself again
As you pluck hairs
From your eyebrows
It helps you somehow

Beauty is pain
Your stomach growls
You haven't eaten
Because you want to be skinny
You want to be pretty

Beauty is pain
Is all you hear
When you walk into surgery
To change your face

Beauty is pain
Lingers in the back of your mind
When your boyfriend hits you
For the first time

One day you look in the mirror
All you see is pain
You wonder how it ended up this way
"Beauty is pain" is an awful mentality to have
it's not safe to love

but it's more fun than hate        -

it's not easy to love

but ,

you do become brave
gentle, but constant, warmth
encouraged the delicate petals
to unfurl,
extend and expose inner veins
and release fragrant wisps
wafting slowly
the length of the shoot laden meadow –
protruding with diligent
single-mindedness
they burst forth and dotted the landscape
with fresh and pale greenery
trading the stark, barren, winter wasteland
into a valley of rebirth
extension
and colorful beauty
destined for fawn frolic
and sparrow dancing –
sitting cross-legged
surrounded by the sounds of spring
the nonstop low ****** buzz
chirping and squawking  of the scrub jay
effortlessly hoping from branch to twig
twice on the ground
and back up into the treetops…
far off in the distance
carried only by a meandering breeze
the long slow shrill whistle
of a bull Roosevelt
brought my mind to the present
forcing my to consider my surroundings
with a different air –
without warning I was left
with only my heartbeat
and the steady in and out
of a mammal breathing, bated
a slight yet tangible fear began to grow within
and I felt an urge to flee screaming into the forest
for what seemed a lifetime
I gathered strength and courage
as a new and foreign warmth played across
my ***** and trembling neck hair
coiled muscled began to twist
as I slowly turned to see what I was sharing the meadow with
this fine and sunny day…..
sweat dripped as I forced myself  to make a full rotation
and cast my eyes upon the intruder
barley a slit of sunlight crept between tightly pressed lids
first a little of the left
then some of the right
slowly adjusting
to both the brightness of daylight
but also to the contrast presented
the large dark swaying body
outlined but the new delicate shoots
I could feel the sweat rise on my forehead
and travel slowly
along my hard cheek line and down my neck
weave through the chest hair
and circumnavigate my belly button
finally soaking into the edge of my blue jeans
slightly discoloring the material…
I felt a swelling of bravery as I gave the monster
my direct gaze –
large brown eyes momentarily caught my own
as the massive black bear offered a loud grunt
and rambled back into the dense and darkened thicket
slowly the songs of birds returned
and I saw a bee flash by…
I picked myself up, shaky,  but stoic  
offering a silent prayer to the universe
……thank you for no cubs –
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