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bhu Oct 4
Talks were talks
Sometime, somewhere, not somebody

A minute after, fondness
Reflection of my naivety

To come were moments of easily dismissible presumptions
Devoid of intrinsic rationality

Then the gush of apprehension
Soaking me with doubts about my sanity

A minute before irrevocable acceptance
Good to finally meet you, reality

Talks are talks now
Sometime, somewhere with somebody
Caroline Jul 18
One day these hills will be all we have left.
The thickened pines and needle laden tracks
That rise to summits formed of smooth and serrated granite;
One day I will raise my eyes to these peaks
And see in them the only
Faces of familiarity I can find.
Life is like that.
Everything changes.
The ones we love the most leave
Empty hollows like abandoned
Caverns above the falls,
And darkness spreads where light’s erased
In the the narrow crevices of time.  

One day I will be an old soul, alone in a wicker chair,
Looking to the reddened sky behind the peaks;
Faces I have loved streaming by
And lifting to the wind
That shakes the leaves all the way to the spires of
The ever-constant hills.
They have watched generations rise and fall,
And how I love you like a fire
Burning in the fragile spaces
Between the roughened cliffs
That encroach upon us all.
Laokos Jun 28
don't you dare smile
in the face of the
day.  don't think for
a second that
you are in control
of your feelings.  
see that person ahead?
don't acknowledge them.
head down, eyes forward,
mouth shut, heart
closed.
...good, now you're
getting the hang of
it.  now, accept everyone
else's authority but
your own, amass financial
debt, relieve yourself
with the proper drugs,
find someone under
the same
enchantment as you
and call it love.  
have kids because it's
the next step.  raise them
in your image.
then,

watch them repeat the
same cycles
and as you're dying, have
a flash-thought-
  "did I even notice who I was?  what I wanted for this life?"
and as the thresh
ceases to be held you
light a candle of hope-
your love the spark,
your children the fed flame.
you say,  
     "they will sever the momentum I couldn't, they will
          see it."
-after all they are made
to be better than you,
not simply blind copies.
yet as the kaleidoscopic walls
usher you on you wonder,
     "how many of my ancestors have lit this same vela del lecho
         de muerte?  how many were hoping it was their daughter or
            son?"

the security of tradition and
the risk-reward of novelty
played out across
lineages.  both correct
and incorrect in their
own ways...

which one reaches through
the ages and hums
in
your spine?
F A Pacelli Jun 5
there was a little boy
with a broken heart
his silent wound refusing to heal
that little boy became a man
now he massacres innocent hearts
extinguishing lovers like spent cigarettes
all to mend his still broken heart
and the cycle continues . . .
Mary May 24
Excitement - attraction, ***, love
Happiness - money, marriage, family
Contentment - bbq's, vacations, friends
Boredom - schedules, chores, commitments
Apathy - distant, separate, divorce
Loneliness - heartbreak, regret, resolve
Renewal - freedom, flexibility, growth
Excitement...
Lost May 15
Lessons learned lessen with time
Time takes its toll on memories
And failures are forgotten until repeated

I feel like my mistakes mold my existence
Into rolling regret that snowballs it’s way
Down a steep and steady path

Watch me plummet perpetually
Falling forever
Down to my ****** destiny
Morrie W S Apr 30
a liminal space,
a banshee who screams for the dead.

ashes to ashes
we walk the earth
in cigarettes,
in home and hearth.

my heart breaks:
indocrinate.
feel the grass
beneath one's toes

magic where none
dares to go
Renee Danes Apr 16
Blink once,

I see
The stars
Look down
On me,

Blink twice,

Planets form
From nothingness
Endless colors
Cold, warm

Don't blink,

Nothing changes
Stays same
Surrounded fully
In strangeness

Same universe,
Same space,
Same everything.
Last week we saw the first picture of a black hole, is science now determining our future? I hope there is still "space"( ;p) for the magical
Cycles

It’s good
It’s bad
It’s dark
I’m sad
I’m happy
And in love
Heavy raindrops
From above
I feel like dancing
Running and leaping
I can’t stop crying
Dying weeping
I can’t stop laughing
Smoking and drinking
Ignited fire
Sinful desire
A sinner
A saint
One winner
One ain’t
A crazy story
I’ll paint
My Good image
I’ll taint
In hopes that
You’ll see
A genuine me
So I can be free
From who you think I should be.
Listen.
I need to talk.
Had been hoping you would
Walk beside me, hold my hand,
Watch my back as I do yours.
This self destructive cycle
Has me spinning in circles
Madness on a rats wheel
Roller coaster riding
As sanity flits like a flutterby
Just outside my reach
No wonder I don’t remember
Why would I want to?
I am beside myself and
Apart from you
Pleading on deaf ears
For a moments peace
Pressure release before I
Implode. Boom.
Just like that.
Boom boom.
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