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Pieces of me
thrown away
like trash
Never consulted
Never asked
The direct result
of another’s conviction
or more commonly seen
consequences
from blind ambition

Paranoid
The fix is in
But no invitation
for me,
former me
or forever me
and all of my imitations
beset by my
limitations

Forwardly I lean
step in between
lines upon lines
hidden;
can’t be seen
Falling ill
Now trapped
by its machine
And from my vein;
My blood I spill

A still surface
with sticky sheen
amber tones
from which
I glean
a reason
Thrilled
What it might mean
A hunger
that
can not be filled

Nothing but lies
giving me chills
A shell
with values
not instilled
Instead
it’s dread
Their words
I’m fed
"Nutrients"
to fill my head

My outer skin
Its layer
thin
Not to attacks
No single act
or prayer
could patch
and fill it in
A hole
that’s black
is my first sin

A game
in which
no way to win
and no ending
once it
begins
With opened eyes
commence to see
The dorsal fins
surrounding me

Head starts
to spin
What could have been?
It doesn't matter
in the end
because
there's nothing
here for me
A demon-like reality

Where what you seek
Placed at your feet
The icing; sweet
Choices; not three
Have cake or eat
One choice not two
But want to eat
and have it too

All efforts
to retrieve the treat;
An outcome that
ends in defeat
A princess swept
off of her feat
But this feature
princess;
a creature
Spirit of
a soulless seeker

Deceitful speaker
Flames;
he’ll eat ya
Offers pain
Can’t heal;
life drained
Then reaching out
to use
life-line
but with each ring
hope further wanes

An answered call
done just in time
The chills
running all down my spine
Stand tall
just like Douglas-fir pine
With racing thoughts
filling my mind
I will be saved
Free from it all
God must exist
No time to stall
In battle
warriors
may fall
but no man's ever left behind

Only to find
With said spent dime
A dynamite kind of answer
-
A type
that might
cause strife
Can't plan for
Needed answer
Plight
like cancer
New chance to live
Worldly romancer
On planet Earth
A tiny dancer

A romantic thought
to think
fight fought
Instead a sinking ship
just dropped
This life?
If could
an ‘OUT’
would opt
No more
can take
Just make
it stop
Written: April 17, 2018

All rights reserved.
SC Kelley Aug 2018
We're all rebels WITH a cause.

We all have something that we would put above all else.

Even authority.


~S.C. Kelley
For all the rebels out there
Storm;
Rain.
Dirt;
Pain.
I'm gone;
Insane.
I could feel dessert in my vein
Terror running through my brain
And I see the fleet and the heat reversing my aim
Defeat;
Fell.
The flit;
Hell.
I'm sinking inside the well
But I live like all is well
Brain;
Dead!
My skin is turning to a shell
Mind and soul running to a dwell
The thought
And memory
The fall
And gravity
The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves
And all that famous harmony of leaves
The brilliant moon and all the milky sky;
Had blotted out my image and the cries.
But I keep sailing on the deck of the abandoned ship
Maybe one day, I'll find my way, to the top of the hip
Irrespective of the hate speech and sar-donic
Some say I'm doomed like Odysseus and his wagon ship
But I keep levitating my soaring height
Like a moon climbing upon an empty sky
No climate or condition could dismantle me
Like a bat hanging on a drying tree
This language which my dream is written; keep-on baffling me
And there's never being a psyche to analyse or subtitles it
Maybe somebody hid hope and desire; + fear and hate
Under my feet that follows me night and day
Maybe someday my dark heart will at least turn to gray
For this is the price that I've got to pay
To be brave in the face of pain
*
Tears rise in my heart
And gathers in my eye
As I lean to touch the sky
The more I try; more I fall
As I try to blaspheme between the stars
The more I search; more I lost
More I cry; the more I mourn
For my book of fate is about to burn
The path to my dreams is about to u-turn
How on earth will I debug,
This raging fault
How will I erase this engraved dirt?
My skin will burn; my flesh will hurt
Though my dreams are dead but I still live
I shred my strength to breath; but I still breathe
How I wish to be with him (my dream) under the six feet
How I wish I got a deadly flick from this street
Then, I decide to take a walk through my district.
To rid away the thought from my instinct
Ironically, I walk majestically and peep at everyone I did meet.
And I think that how would it be
If I wasn't bred to slum filled with big filth
Then I shake my head
And I said.
How could it feel?
To live without being seeing
To live like a god in my thought
To live poor but humane in my hut
To live in this world without being hurt
To pass through enemies plot without being caught
The abhor and foe won't want me grow
Let them go to space and stop me glow (the vibe, they don't)
So I don't feel abice with their songs of hate;
Malice and rage.
I have worked hard
And at this juncture I cannot ******
That tears I've shed were because of fear,
The kick I took that deafened my ear.
Eventually I became this child of steel,
Hard as a rock, with no tender feel.
I became immune to the blows to my head,
As the tips of my welts slightly bled.
The pain, it faded and my heart grew weak,
But as my body grew stronger, I became this freak.
It teaches me from wrong to right.
My rage grew strong,
And even against the world,
I won't take a flight
I stood to fight
Gale L Mccoy Jul 2018
the second i turn firm
im afraid its too harsh for you
when you bumped against me
did you bruise?
E McNamara Jun 2018
I feel like ripping wet paper
and smashing mangoes against my lips.
jcl Apr 2018
I LOVE...

Those warm days
that symbolize your warm gaze

Those long nights we spend
planning for what lies ahead

Those sweet dawns
of watching the vanishing moon

BUT...

The warmness is melting down
the thought of holding on

The future itself isn't pleased
and trying to stop us towards it

Those dawns seem to be the one fading
No more cuddling just too much suffering

I love everything about you,
But everything disagrees.
Ceida Uilyc Mar 2018
They call us Madrasis
Incarcerated Buddhas
Not Cholas nor the Devadasis
But agglomerated Cheras.
Who knew the Pandyas, anyway?

They call us Archetypes
On Iridescent Thalis
Of Sambars and rice cakes in thin stripes
Slurping on leafy banana like malis.
Who knew the God’s Own Country anyway?

They call us Annas
Sandalwood Veerappans

Lemon for Evil at four annas
Skirting Lungi blooms and Hairy Chappans*
Where is Madras anyway!
*Hindi Word= Mali= Gardener
*The Famous South Indian Dacoit of Sandalwoods
*Hindi Word= Chappan= Chest, Wealth

A commentary on how people in the North Segregate people of South India. Although subtle, oftentimes, harshness of the racism pulls you to freefall through bores of molten shivers.
To North Indians out there, I’m not a Madrasi. I’m not a Mallu. Call me a Keralite. Call me a Malayali. I will rebut regionalism with another sharded verse!
only sound good
coming
from
your
mouth
my words
what words
my
words
?























...
..
.
draw
...
..
.
Marco Benitez Jan 2018
People call it a cage, but I call it my room
I was born here, this is my very home

The lights are starting to shine
Is it already showtime?

The spotlight in the middle of the arena,
All eyes on me.

"DANCE!"
You yell, and I put on a show for you.

"FIGHT!"
Your demand reaches my ears,

"JUMP!"
                                                  ­              "TWIRL!"
                        "ROAR!"
          ­                                                                 ­      "SING!"
                                     "****!"
"SWIM!"
                                                 ­                                               "RUN!"

Your words are my commands,
Commands I Follow without questioning.

My only purpose is to entertain you,
My only desire is to hear you cheer.

You deserve it
You are better than me
I'm just a useless beast.


I got hurt?
It does not matter,
The show must go on.

After all, this show is for you specifically.


And you.


And you.


All of you are important
Let me be your slave
It would be a pleasure.



Kick me
Insult me
Make fun of me
Make me feel miserable.

Just don't hate me
It would ruin my purpose.

Do you hate me?
Am I not entertaining you?

I will change how I look!
I can make you laugh!
I can act better!
I will torture myself if I have to.

Is that not enough?

I can do better.
I can!

Just tell me what you want
I will do anything to please you



Am I still not enough?











WHAT DO YOU WANT?
I PROMISE I CAN DO IT!








no?
















Am I not entertaining anymore?















































**** ME

































EVEN BETTER











I CAN SAVE YOU THE WORK




























































­


































i will **** myself


anything to satisfy my audience.









anything

to satify

YOU

.
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