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Eric Babsy Oct 2018
October nine and she was fine
October ten came and went
October eleven she thinks of heaven

Can I be recognized in violet
All turned blood red
They are all like a rose

Pricking and picking my veins
Somebody uses extreme osmosis
To help their pain in doses

Now the flowers have gone
Because of the atmosphere and the sun
Will I be the one to change her

Like all dogs sitting in a manger
We were not perfect
October twelve was hell

October thirteen and I was seen
By her from a far
Just to distance ourselves from who we are

October fourteen and she became gorgeous
Because the love we had floored us
Can we start again every day, every week, and every month
Because I think you are the one
Amanda Kay Burke Oct 2018
My brain clouded with thoughts of you
Want to make them disappear
Beauty that used to color my world
No longer fills my drab atmosphere

Ears are haunted by words you said
Parts of conversations had
Curse my eardrums suddenly
Assaulting like pop-up ads

Pain we felt is written in
The heavy way limbs move
Lines in folds of my crossed arms
As I wait for you to change, improve

Sleeping in a steely freeze
Promise I won't stay here forever
Stars may light our fragile paths
This is the place we finally sever

Put my toughest armor on
Been crying out for help
Swirling thoughts shouting in an angry tone
Crush my existence, make this world Hell

The universe we loved is gone
Our make-believe yet beloved perfection
Walls collapsing, illusions wrecked
Destroyed over and over by deception

The pattern of desperation must cease
Pitiful unexplainable misery repeated
I offer silence as a truce of sorts
Heart beaten, weak, and mistreated

Wish I could forget your name
Memories flood my mind
All the time we spent together was in vain
Crying for what is left behind

What is wrong with my emotions?
The odd ones don't make sense
The beautiful intricacies of my soul
At times are too deep and intense

Drowning in gaping irreperable despair
I think of our unfortunate fate
Cried an ocean of wasted tears
For the person I should hate

I do not know why I'm still in love
Miss days my heart felt free
The vibrant hues giving meaning to life
Your colors have faded from all I see
If you feel discouraged cause there's a lack of color here, please don't worry lover, it's really burtung at the seams
Jolan Lade Aug 2018
I have a convenient little helmet
When the world becomes overwhelming
It offers protection, an atmosphere that takes me to the stratosphere where I can be myself
In my helmet, my bubble I am me, in my bubble I don't need to see the horrors of others
In my bubble, I can be free, see the world in my own colours
When I exit my bubble I put on knee-high boots, a protective safety suit and a good pair of really thick gloves. At my waist, I carry a big revolver that will act as a solver. Because with humans you cannot argue and be nice, cannot talk and make peace.
In my bubble
Alex Bex Aug 2018
At around this time of year I would usually
start dreaming of girls with shoulder high hair
racing their way into warm summer crossings,
under midnight white skies,
following the shadow of giants ahead
that would never ever fade in the distance.
I stared again into long halcyon lights
shooting straight up from dying cities,
and every street corner turning slowly into the night,
enough time to feel I would yet be missing
another love story this year.
©2018 Alex Bex - www.alexbex.net
George Krokos Jul 2018
O dust! you settle down naturally on any exposed surface
over a period of time it seems without much of a purpose
other than to indicate that some time has obviously passed
as before there on we observed a brighter sheen was cast.

You also seem to appear and come down out of nowhere
because of the fact that you're an insignificantly small fare
nobody around suspects the character of your real nature
or questions how and why you are made; of what stature.

People will say that you are of certain air-borne particles
which are picked up and carried around like some articles
and deposited where fate has destined them to be placed
on any exposed surface that their presence has disgraced,

This may be true to a point but isn't an absolute or final answer
as you are so fine and small it begs one to delve much further;
if the atmosphere of the earth supports all life as we know it
then it too must be a living thing and the dust just proves it.

Particularly in respect of each living thing producing its own waste
the atmosphere itself being so pervasive can't be dismissed in haste
because it too would have to live and feed on whatever sustains it
and leave behind most of the dust as excreta as a justification of it.

The question one could ask next is what would the atmosphere live on?
and the answer might just be whatever is available such as energy from
the sun, stars and space itself which are all parts of the cosmic sea above
along with the earth and its oceans that it envelopes as a protective glove.

However it is noted that no dust settles on an exposed surface in a vacuum
because there's no atmosphere apparently there we would have to presume
hence all of space itself isn't some kind of great vacuum but a living entity
we've come to call the Universe being the body of God the Eternal Verity.
_________
Written in 2017
Janelle Tanguin Jul 2018
what was once a galaxy
has become a minefield
of massive black holes,
and all our rocket ships
have crash landed
without taking us home.

lost dreams of flying,
mechanical wings,
intergalactic suffocation,
stars in glass jars
as souvenirs
just in case we got close
to the moon.

we took off as one,
our faulty parts disintegrating
upon reaching the exosphere.
turbulence, then nothingness,
a lack of closure,
and gravity
working in reverse.
(old previously unpublished drafts making their way here)
Diane K Pak Jul 2018
When you emptied yourself inside because things outside made you cried.
When your sacred self startled shattered to stutter without flutter.

When no one hear this mumble yet fumble and tumbled to hear me as troubled, but why instead themselves wanting to become more humble.

Who is everyone that added anything and everything to my voice;  screaming stopped, yet heartbeat ignition, and grumbling papers with and without written symbolism.  

I needed you to be here with the gem of treasure and filled with muse of your soothe and yet I waited to hear your amused with joy and listened to this delighted sadness of how really isn’t something to be amused or nor abused.

Wanting to wait for the return of the u-turns, so I became emblems of I said I’m sorry but it was actually an reoccur of it not being the chance to say that was my own turn.

Tears, aches, and screams didn’t swivel, its shriveled.
Yet, the eyes of the stars dreamt of awakening beaming bright, and if so it's beneath dimming the lower lights.
Jolan Lade Jun 2018
That is where you walk
On the golden path paved
By frozen hearts like mine

This is where I walk
On the lonely and dark trails, which light is taken
By shining hearts like yours

That is your atmosphere
Filled with birdsong singing in joy and cheer
Birds that feed on fright felt by breached hearts like mine

This is my atmosphere
Polluted and dismantled
Abandoned by hope lead away by believing hearts like yours

We are as divided
I in this dim world with thunder and agony
You in that gleaming world full of happiness and liberality

Inbetween us a dash
I cannot reach your world
And in a flash, it is gone
Now nothing but grumpy monsters and dark rooms
My memory is captured by you, and my eyes caught by the moon
The memory
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Dorothy is captivated in her own mind,

Her eyes step into a colorful illusion of a an altered universe,

An outer parallel that consists of tangerine trees and marmalade skies,

Her perspective lost in kaleidoscope vision and sugar coded mountains,

The sky is a meadow of green and the grass is an ocean of cerulean,

A second dose catches her in a flick; a motion pictured mindset,

Her eyes have completely lost focus,

Gum drop rainballs and pixie stick gravel,

She is absent minded of all that is telling,

A third hit and she disappears,

Flying through the sky, she dreams of the life of an average person,

Reality swapped with insanity,

She lives a dream and dreams what others live.
Written in a creative writing course that I took in High School.
zoom fish
in rain
or shine
his parenthetical
whim to
sky with
line of
sight the
Siamese cast
to upper
atmosphere underwater
when pressure
beams this
sunbather a
reflection in
these clouds
so nigh
hammock weather
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