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Philomena Jun 2019
"I never thought I would ever escape
At times, I wanted to die
Feared that it all was just a little too late
For then, I wouldn't survive
I let you in and let go of the hate
My heart recovered now, I
Owe you a debt that I can never repay
I still believe 'cause you're mine"
pitch black god8 May 2019
~

dark early pre-dawn

body suspended between the-dark ochre earth tones of night,
and the teal pealing notes of warning of an impending morning,
signs aborning, me rising with urgency of the leaden half deaden,
torn from the bed casket to venture into a different kind of twi-lights,
nature demanding both intake and outtake, a restoration of balance

but first a bumbling wobbling, the body as carnival bumper car,
installing soon-to-be-bruising for later examination-exhumation,
lurching from handhold crevices in the walls like crazy cliff climbers,
my balance disturbed, eyes try  tearing apart the sticky glue of night,
my sense of direction keeping me from free falling into green glass
edges of glass tables, barely, and not always, red cuts evidentiary

“my balance disturbed” words fresh formed, and a poem expulsion
required to balance the unjust scales of spirit soul and the body cage,
patch an negotiated agreement between warring cousins, just a
twenty four hour ceasefire to retrieve the wounded and the
corpses unfounded in the small copses of false shelter,
like my ancestors expelled from Spain, making escape to be
strangers in strange lands, or remain hidden in place neath disguises
of clothes of new poems, prayers for old and new gods

this new poem comes quick like a young man making first love,
for the poem has been written by thousands nights of practicing,
so ready for quick retrieving in a smattering of a few minutes,
expulsion expulsion
what a perfect verbiage to capture the night terrors, the differentials,
the procession path between what was and what will be,
when my balance restored and this poem’s completion installation
in the body of my work, as a nail disguised in the works of my body,
entering by command of the pitch black gods
5:29am April 24th
Jayantee Khare Feb 2019
things may not go the way
you've planned for today
be thankful for the life anyway
feel blessed for each passing day
time may be dark or gray
but the sunshine is not far away....
Just reminder to  self..When things go haywire...
Kasper Jan 2019
He waits in the night
Such a glorious sight
With fingers like claws
And a crow that caws

He waits in the day
So he'll be at bay
With hair like the void
That no one can avoid.

He waits in the moon
It'll be over soon
With eyes like coal
That will rot your soul

He waits in the sun
It's almost done
With wings like fire
That suits his attire

He waits in the night
Such a glorious sight
As he goes by
You all will die
quinn silverman Nov 2018
aimlessly reaching for it
not quite grasping the meaning
of what it is as it’s slipping
through my needy fingers
the texture is lazy
slithering beneath my sad nails
planting itself in the dirt
that i was too pathetic to clean
claiming itself a flower
but y would a flower make me cry?
leaving me wet, rabid, reaching
still aching for the slightest hint of it
like an addiction scratching at it
trapped in inevitable incomprehension
The little voice begging for love and freedom from classroom is mine
I  a child
Who harbours unspoken words and wavered feelings in my heart
If you let my spirit out of this cage, a beautiful world I'll paint
Now I am bound by chains of failure and mothers unemphatic nature
Every invisible second steals a pint of blood and bucks of flesh off me
Mother is now the pain I see, an undying tormentor she turned to be
On my skin she left her palm slaps and upbeat attitude that gets me grounded
The unpacked toys on the shelf describes me, a missing puzzle lying on the counter defines me
Jack and Saldy are now my favorite mares, the spirits by my window at night they are
On a daily I receive the backlash for not coming down for dinner
A loner in a busy house I am, neither living nor dead
Everyone thinks I am reserved, NO
There's peace in returning to my bed at night, a reviving hope of not seeing another rising sun
Mother can you look at my future, you've murdered my dreams of playing cricket
Do you even notice the pain in my eyes, or the numb little robot you've created out of me
I am complaining to the deaf ears of nature, broken and cold my spirit have turned to be
The wind is upon me, I shall sink my ship to let the sailor live
Whoever sees my body at the graveside should know I was a happy child
Before my demons haunted me.
Emphatic: How we treat and react towards each other adds worth or reduces their worth and self-esteem. Families, friends and society plays a vital role in building a person, just be yourself and true in any dealing with any person. What matters is how you left them not how you met them.
Amanda Kay Burke May 2018
Revealing twisted thoughts that emerge in my head at night
Needlessly pouring my heart to you
The cold chaotic chess game that lingers
I wonder if you feel disturbed sometimes too
I can't be the only person who is this kind of crazy
At 2am he asks me how I am
I avoid the question by saying im in bed eating a bag of shredded cheese
I figured it would answer its self
I look into my brain, mental instability on the top shelf
He looks inside his to find what to say back to her-
“Is i️t cheddar?”
It’s mild- i️m wild ive got the heart of a child when they see a dog at the shelter
It’s my responsibility to fall in love with her
And him and you and everybody i see
Im a ******* pisces
Im going to wake up with cheese all over my ******* bed
My horoscope said “if you don’t swim for something, you’ll drown for anything”
Stop holding my head underwater
Go find pearl jam and have them call me daughter
And I’ll wear the shoe laces of a queen
Im a sane mother’s ******* despite the neon static in my head and the spiratic crumbs in my bed
“No eating in bed” they said
Then hit me with a shovel, plug the hdmi chord into my ear and watch my chemical dreams on the big screen in the neighbors backyard
Shove a joint in my eye as a thank you card and turn the volume up
Throw me in the back of a pick up truck
Then tape my hand to a gas guzzling motorcycle maybe it will help me sleep
Keep the helmet on the seat
No drinking for lent and on sundays don’t cheat
Beat me with a golf club sell me on stubhub
I might have a talent or two
But soon I’ll fall off of my thrown, theres something missing from my shoes
I find the white lines tied to a pipe
Seperating a head from a body
A shoelace in this case was worn by an undeserving daughter
Slaughtered by a helpful string
“Turn off that thing” the neighbors screamed
“Stop her mind”
**** was just getting good,  mind you
Rip down the screen, pull out my ear too
Put the shoelaces back on my shoe
Theres nothing to see here but a disturbed dream
With shredded cheese at the crime scene
Colzz MacDonald Nov 2017
Lowly, ornery moments, viciously crusade
Whispering damnable, through tempestuous winds
Seeking the core being of auspicious people
To wreck the wholesomeness they hold
Without merit; without claim; only with lurid enmity

These satirical shadows lurking
Crave our every fallen promise
Of living a full life of exemplary character
So they can manipulate susceptible thoughts
For their own ghoulish behaviourism

The tacky underhand played by cruel intentions
Mystifies the drunken stupor of our senses
Who strive to live abjectly without fear
In the torrid aftermath of our foolishness
Are left the maudlin remnants of our self-esteem

When harmony within us is weak
Tomorrow is left to renew
The rambunctious craze of melancholia
Hiding behind contemptuous eyes of disturbia
Propensely echoing through our minds
~••~»» some people seem hell bent on creating drama, hurt and destruction in their wake. Determined to corrupt decent souls who just wanna get on with this thing called life ~••»»
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