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We are dancers of the soul,
Fencing with lauguage
To exorcise our truth,
Our passion,
Our pain.

We are bent over
Retching words from the darkest corners of our souls,
We are laying on cold concrete,
Cheeks pressed to old news print as our truth bleeds out,
Rages out!
Spews forth with the bile of
Words never spoken, not honored or even fully felt,
Yet there
in truth
buried!

Until...
Contained no longer,
They burst through
And like a mob unseating a dynasty,
They chant and sweat and rage and dance
Until their cause is heard and seen.
Until the News at Ten reports
That "the world is NOT AT ******* PEACE!"
That our own kingdoms will not tolerate suppression
And that our souls will be held down no longer.
That we WILL be heard!
We will no longer sit and do as dictated through years and decades and lifetimes of docile abdication.
We will NOT BE SILENT
But with our spines straight
We will rise up and
be heard,
Counted.
And fight with our poetry,
With our ink or keyboard
For the goal of freeing what we know in the depths of our hearts to be...
Our truth

Bless us!
Or is that just me? Ha ha, no really, this piece is a homage to Hellopoetry and the brave souls who bare their truths to the internet.
Nicole Bataclan Jul 2015
This is me,
You see.
Fragments
Or the whole;
All the same,
You will see.

I am Truth
A version of it;

Any part you will pick
Authentic.

Here is the treat
Every facet
Of this mosaic;
My identity is one and
Universal.

Whatever you will get
It will be a best self
I am Truth
A version of it;

Take it
Or none of it.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2015
Best things worth the wait
Sleepy days lead to pouncing
Anything that moves
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2015
I have seen ghosts move in long caustic sun,
On shuffled feet, they trod through heavy airs
With eyes blanketed from all that lives growing,
Who knows how far they shall run as they walk,
Dumb before light, shimmers of grace, of flower,
The chalk in their veins flows black under moon,
To speak is to lye, river beds dry, draining forever,
And blood, blue, salted only at the ended journey.
Alexandra Mor Mar 2015
As a designer,
I have always been fascinated by the interplay
between people and objects of design.
The responses change over the years,
and with this in mind, my collections
become tangible reflections
of my own journey,
as a woman to this day.*

                                     / *Alexandra Mor
All Rights reserved to Alexandra Mor LLC
Alexandra Mor Mar 2015
Intimate surprises
spun
from thin air.

Precious metals
forged
to last an eternity.

Unwavering.
Uncompromising.
Unapologetically bold.
Unlike anything else.

The incomparable thrill
of one-of-a-kind.*

                        / *Alexandra Mor
All right reserved to Alexandra Mor LLC
Lisa Neu Feb 2015
I am Lisa*
Youth is a good thing I guess,
unless --
It becomes the lens
through which you are seen.

Then --
Your ambitious ideas are
youthful, not wise
Your wittiness is
immaturity, not humor
Your springy-step is
young bones, not joy in living.

Youth is a good thing I guess,
but better, *authenticity
.

I am who I am, 20 or 60.
My age affects me,
but my age isn't me.
I am who I am.
WickedHope Dec 2014
Stop humoring me
If you don't really care,
Because I'm wasting my time --
Wasting my life,
And I can't afford any more breaks.
Anymore breaks and I'll shatter,
Don't you understand that?
I'm just trying to find a clear image
In this distorted blur;
I want a clear reflection
In this dark pool.
So, take off your mask,
Because I'm tired --
Exhausted -- from all these masquerades.
I just want to dance barefoot in the sand...
Do you want to dance barefoot in the sand?
What the hell did I just write?
Emotions, bleh.
It was never my intention to place you in harms way.
Enlisting your heart to trouble after we kissed on that precious day.
As time elapsed, my heart took a moment to understand.
You were portraying your earnest emotions subtly then crass.

The turmoil you must’ve felt during the time you kept to yourself…
Causing you to experience agonizing despair while delving into mournful swells…
Find it in your heart to forgive these third degree burns.
For it was never my intention to crucify your kind soul.

My love yearns to romanticize unhurriedly,
Seducing passionately while intimately feeding the soul so fluidly.
Is it too much to ask for an amorous exploration?
For what is love without a genuine vibration?

If *** is all you seek,
Be explicitly direct; don’t play games that will cause deceit.
Otherwise, in the end, ambivalent emotions will prevail.
Crafting a false sense of endearment that will soon be too much for you to bear.

I once journeyed to a crucible of love and hate.
Traveling far beyond the unfathomable depths of heartache.
Hopelessly exiled to endure the slowest of brutalizing pains;
A light was discovered, allowing the abhorrence to dissipate.

By: Michael M. De La Fuente
Aaron Mullin Oct 2014
Standing on the razors edge
Is eviscerating to the souls
If you stand there long enough
Eventually you find the architecture on which you stand

From the razors edge
You can get perspective

As I peered into the underworld
I saw ambivalence
I then turned and peered into the living world
I saw the same

I stood there a little longer
You bleed to feel alive
Peered back into the underworld
Ambivalence was gone
I got a wink, a like
That was curious
Turned and peered into the living world
Another wink, another like

I needed to restructure
Nonsensical
Maybe the universe did give a ****

I had not found my bearings
I did find my authentic self
What I saw was that my stories mattered

If I did not restructure my stories
I was going to die and life would be meaningless
More or less
However, if I let my storytelling gene
Fully express itself
I could make important changes

It's a Wonderful Life
Suicide ain't painless
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