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 Aug 2016 Swanswart
Hannah thomas
We are evenly matched
Or so I thought
So I let down my guard
Thinking I'm alright.

But I placed my bishop
Diagonal three spaces
Perfect position to
put you in check

Realizing that
I've made a mistake
You move your knight
Two spaces forward,

one to the right
Halting my advances
Leaving only my queen
To defend the pride of her king

I defend from your every move
Until you capture her.
Leaving my king exposed
And defenseless

You marvel at it but
Are quick to place her
with the others you have
Captured and controlled

My king scurries
Space by space
Anxious to avoid
The inevitable capture

I am exhausted
Avoidance of you
is utterly impossible
So I give in

I tip over my king
in total surrender
How quick you are
to ****** it into your hands

You revel in your victory
Clinging to my king
My last piece
My last hope

But how quick you are
to discard it
How quickly you let it
tumble down onto the pile

But I forgot..

To you

This is just a game of chess
 Aug 2016 Swanswart
Hannah thomas
My anxiety never stops

I've told you this several times but I suppose to a normal mind it does not compute
So I will tell you 10, 30, 100 more times
Knowing the words that I'm saying don't really get through

But one day    you ask me..
What is it like inside your mind?  
I tell you it's anxious and you look puzzled
as if I have just told you the grass was magenta.
I don't blame you. I don't understand often times myself.
But you ask me again.
"What is it like inside your mind?"

It's like having eyes in the back of your head
except instead of an extra set of eyes every sense is hightened to the point of omnipresence where you are everywhere yet you are no were
You're almost like a ghost but  they all know you're there.  

It's like being in a high speed chase with your rem cycle except MY thoughts never run out of gas.
And stopping is like trying to breathe underwater, you know it is impossible but out of desperation your body begs you to try. And you comply

Anxiety never stops and while you are absent mindedly holding me close, I am not there
My mind is 18 different places at once
You see my mind was never taught how to be at peace in someone's arms, only taught to play scenarios in my head of ways to leave before I can hurt or am hurt. But by now I've decided to stay.
While you are absent minded and filled to the brim with contentment my mind is going through millions of things wrong with my body and what I can do to make myself perfect in hopes to silence the voices that bark inside my head
While you are absent minded and just waking up in the morning my mind has been awake for days
my dreams are just empty spaces for my anxieties fill the voids of. My eyes may be closed but the inside of mind has been on high alert the whole time.
While you have been absent mindedly holding my hand in the car and am reliving an argument that has not happened because I am too afraid to say the words. You see nothing is wrong yet but my mind is a dessert of quicksand and it's so easy to fall in. And while you have been mindfully listening to the words I am saying I am panicking at the words you might say if you take it badly, not in the right way.
I have told you before.
My anxiety never stops but when you are absent mindedly holding me, looking at me as if I am some gift that could never be outdone. My heart slows, my voices are quick to remind me I'm nothing but when you tell me I am beautiful and my smile make you weak, my voices are silenced.
My anxiety still keeps my senses and full alert and I still notice little details and everything around me  
but while you are there, absent minded and loving me with all that you have, my anxieties may be flooding my system but my heart is in your hands.
I am untouchable.
 Aug 2016 Swanswart
bs
People
 Aug 2016 Swanswart
bs
There are people, whether you'd like to believe
With their heads in the clouds
There are people, with more than just tricks up their sleeves.

There are people
with minds that wander
There are people
who hide under
Tables, and ceilings, and shelves.
Or smiles.

When I was younger
I would squeeze myself into tightness
Some nights I still feel like that
When hell breaks loose
And my head reminds me
Of a boxing ring
Or a shooting range
Or a couple's therapy.

I aim my gun, and pull the trigger.
Maybe one day,
One day,
I'll stop pretending I don't hope for too much.
What I see is an illusion
Everything wrapped in spider's hammock
Behind the rusted lock
Still fresh are my memories
My doll dressed in years of dust
And the grandfather's rocking chair
Sip of the petrichor in my tea
And this dew upon the barren garden
Everything has changed in real
But it's still the same in my illusion.
Believe me, you're not the only one
who's broken, because If you look close
enough at all those around  you, you'll
only see remnants of scars and wounds from
past experiences that make up quarters and halves
where there had once been wholes.
Everyone has a story
 Aug 2016 Swanswart
Keith Wilson
And  when  his  usefulness  had  gone.
They  just  cast  him  aside.
And  on  the  final  downhill.
He  began  to  slide.

Rejected  after  all  his  work.
Visions  now  all  gone.
He  knew  full  well  his  time  was  near.
He  knew  he  had  not  long.

As  an  old  man  disillusioned.
And  weary  from  his  fight.
He  spent  in  sad  remembrance.
His  final  lonely  night.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
 Aug 2016 Swanswart
Keith Wilson
Passed  a  neglected  garden  of  late.
It  seemed  in  quite  a ­­ sorry  state.
Some  men  came  to  make  some  notes.
But  seem­ed  to  give  it  little  thought.
Up  on  high  the  grasses  gr­ow.
Beneath  the  windows  row  by  row.
The  other  plants  just­ ­ cry  with  pain.
I  guess  we'll  never  grow  again.
They  ha­ve­  taken  up  our  space  on  the  ground
Like  an  advancing  ­army  I'll  be  bound.
They  are  taking  our  water  Oh  my.
As ­ they  journey  to  the  sky.
Perhaps  it  soon will  be  resolved.­
And  peace  will  reign.
Once again

Keith  Wilson    Windermere.  UK.  2016­.
Some revisons
Today I had an emotional breakdown
In front of a thirteen year old
I told her that I just wanted to run away
That I experienced the feeling
Drapetomania
An overwhelming urge to run away
I declared that all I wanted to do with my life
Was to live in a cottage with the Love of my life
Read books and live serenely
I don't want stress
I don't want this terrible nonsense
Called 'matric'
And to beg for bursaries from the man with money
For a job I may not even enjoy
I just want to be happy
I want to be loved
I want to caress the world with my writing in books
And touch individuals with profound poetry
Why must I go on with stress
Why oh why
Must life for an eighteen year old be
Oh so difficult
I just want to be happy
I want to run away
To my cottage in the mountains
Where my quiet symphony reigns.
 Aug 2016 Swanswart
r
My coat is black
like the nights
I have long forgotten.

I left heaven
for the taverns.

I did my readings before daybreak
when the moon was far aloft,
but the nights got longer.

I kept putting things off
hoping I would discover a star
I knew was there.

Now I saw logs
and leave the leaves
where they fall.
 Aug 2016 Swanswart
r
Nailed it
 Aug 2016 Swanswart
r
"...a black woman
in a white house
built by slaves..."
MO: 7/25/16.
The revolution already began.
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