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city of love-
but without you,
it’s like separating
the Taj Mahal
from this
Amaris Oct 8
My hair is black and yours is yellow
But they never call it that;
Blonde, or like spun gold
Stunning, precious, unattainable.
But you have it,
Like I’ll never have you.
My hair is black but my skin
Is yellow
They call it that
“Slant-eyed”, “foreign”, “unnatural”
At eighteen, I broke black locks with bleach
(I’ve always wanted to be blonde)
And it didn’t look natural at all
I will never be blonde, I will always be
They ask: What are you?
“American, like you”
But they roll their eyes
They tell me to forget my native language
And I don’t know how to tell them I already am
Black and yellow
I think of me then think of bees, and recall
Being stung in the first grade, and how
Ever since, I’m paralyzed at the thought
Of black, and yellow
Black and yellow
Save the bees! on shirts and posters
But no one is saving me.
Mitch Prax Jul 21
Meet me in Japan-
meet me how the scenes inside
of your head plays out

6:11 PM
Mitch Prax Jun 19
Even Tokyo
could never come between us
after all this time

11:39 PM
It was noon, sometime in mid-July;
Imagine the road, a twisting highway to my grave.
The bus, a roller coaster ride unhinged from the tracks.
Dodging missiles with headlights, horns rattling my nerves.
Just another three hours.

It was midnight, somewhere out at sea,
Somewhere in the universe, the Milky Way, another galaxy.
A shallow heartbeat, a distant echo of a Chinese Karaoke show, but all else was still.
The stars never seemed so vast, and I remembered that they were bigger than me,
I was just a speck.

It rained on the way back to ** Chi Minh,
The roads turned to rivers, the scooters grew ponchos; under them a family of three.
The city brought chaos; sad, tired faces, begging for one thousand ****; a cent.
The children danced in the downpour, jumping over sticks
Like hopscotch.

I thought of Ha Long Bay, just the night before,
I couldn’t hear the silence; I couldn’t see the stars; a dingy hostel ceiling, grumbling strangers snores.
I went to sleep dreaming of peaceful valleys, fresh spring waters, trees as far as the eye could see,
For tomorrow was a new day,
The next part of my journey.
Anna Jackson Feb 21
Vietnam's got a raw, dangerous side to explore,
And whilst I'm far from one to detract or deplore,
From the beauty of the place, the gentle souls of the people,
There's some dark things balancing the good with the evil.

Prostitutes are shedding clothes and dignity in bars,
Whilst *****, old men sit with wet mouths ajar,
People claim to help you whilst emptying your pockets,
Because they can't afford to live on their pitiful pay dockets.

Prices sky rocket based on the colour of your skin,
But we're from a wealthy country so we can't make a din,
The protectors - the police will only help you for a bribe,
And if you can't pay the price then you'll get locked inside.

Just alive malnourished dogs with heat exhaustion,
Rats dwell beneath restaurant tables waiting for their portion,
Agent Orange victims left with face contortion and extra limbs,
While aging, old ladies gather supper from the bins.

Children roam the streets at night and noone blinks an eye,
So much is wrong that you're left wondering what's right,
But in this world of chaos can we chastise their plight?
Whilst we take advantage, judge, rule, bomb others and fight.

The 'United' Kingdom separates itself from the world,
Covering up so many lies it makes your toes curl,
Corrupt chains thwart families hopes and beliefs,
Let's form orderly queues for the corporate thiefs.

Every country has a blood money epidemic,
We simply hide it better as we're more academic,
A nation crammed full with political actors,
The fact we follow suit is the critical factor,
To the downfall of our country and the people who reside.
It does not abide to say, ‘Well, at least we tried!’,
But as we all know in this puppet show *******,
We've only ourselves to blame, therefore I'm the biggest culprit.
Shlomo Feb 6
The scale of my ambition.

It’s getting too large to construct on my own.

Like many Africans, I’ve had enough.

News coverage showcasing this region.

Does nothing but reinforce the legion that you bring forth.


Now, I’ll spare you the analogies and set it out clearly.

To all those that are out to “end poverty”.

I applaud your initiative, your drive and determination.

So bear with me as I lay into you. I’m doing it out of love. Trust me.

Whenever I hear your mission.

I think “here we go again with the bare minimums.”

Nothing but bare minimums.

I yearn to be part of a new breed of Africans.

Who want to do more than just end poverty.

What about all those who have escaped its deathly grip.

But still live precarious and unfulfilled lives?

My mission is to build an empire.

To empower. To nurture innovation and prosperity.

One that surpasses anything you could ever imagine and conceive.

If you think that’s ridiculous and absurd.

Wait till you see how I plan on going about this deed.

If I hear another **** politician talking about “ending poverty.”

I swear I’ll ******* snap.

But don’t worry, it’ll just be a picture.

One more to my growing catalogue.

Reminding me of your never-ending plan of world *******.

“So remember guys, bare minimum. Say it with me.

“Bare minimum.”
Sorry if I hurt your feelings. That's not my intention. I'm just as passionate about this as you are.
In the Works of MANZIL Neil POUDAR

∆ A Slow Romantic Burn

My heart is a love's pilgrimage
A sacred place with your image
Flames inside with your burning name
Fantasy of mine in this dangerous game

With every inch of our friendship blend
You drove me up to neurotic to the end
Poisoning my logical thinking in this run
Journeyed me through a slow romantic burn

So sweet of your footsteps in bringing
When your eyes conquer mine every day
Your smile touches my soul, arises feeling
Of hopes that little bit we have, never fade away

Now I lack words for you to mention
Overall, your company heals all of my tension
Trust me, I just love the way you are
A perfect person, of whom I'll always take care

Amidst a vibration of your laughter in my ear
You'll always be there in my heartfelt prayer
Someday I'll make it through our moments
Sacrifying my everything for these commitments
Aa Harvey Jul 2018
Bamboo shoots

I am at peace in a land of dreams.
The creatures of nightmare may scream,
But I am serene in my bamboo garden.
Waterfalls, wooden instruments, whistle their winding calls
And all attune are the birds of Eden.

I have never found love in this place of pure Earth,
And rockeries, but no broccoli please.
I only need pretty flowers to see,
For I am no vegetarian.
I am finding it hard to care again,
But here I sit with the peace within,
My garden.

The bonsai trees and fallen leaves,
And little streams which flows like dreams,
Forever winding in any direction
And at the end their resurrection.
Another dream is reborn once more,
To take me away to another world
And all is well as I stare into the bottom of an empty well.
Waiting for water,
Waiting for another story,
There is always more to tell to her,
But she is not here to know of her glory.

So I will speak, for I must…
I will tell in the hope that one day,
I will be able to find myself again.

(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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