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xmxrgxncy Oct 2016
through my heart
through my soul
when i hear your voice
through my mind
through my eyes
when i see your hair
through my life
through my death
when you have to leave
Pauline Morris May 2016
foreign lands I want to roam
Where Kings and Queens sit upon their throne
And big cats prowl, and wild dogs howl
And there's every kind of fowl
Where mighty elephants trumpet
And with tea they serve crumpets
I want to see the very old creations of man
I know I'd be their biggest fan
To walk the ground that Jesus tread
And feed the masses with seven loaves of bread
I would love to see the foreign sands
To get homesick, then return again to my home land
Michael Ryan May 2016
I'm a ****** of ambition
a clairvoyant
whose true sight can only
seer through my objectives.

I am juxtaposed from my life--
from passion and experience
feeling is a concept
that lingers outside the realm
where I reside;
by choices I was forced to make.

It has bibulous proportions
that consume my cravings
and intoxicate the senses--

So can we believe to be free
instead of circus-elephants
who plunged their trunks
into a trough of indecision.

Where caging and pushing
each other to perform tricks for the audience
is the normality of existing--

to be the scampering mouse
that lives outside their barriers
causes them to fear us
to stampede and
stomp until
there is only obedience.
Good luck little mouse.
b for short Apr 2016
I never was the type to appreciate the sanctity of a funeral parlor. Their somber stink of lilies always turned my stomach. No— I need to be among the trees. Plan to take me to a wide open space in the middle of nowhere. We’ll make it a somewhere as soon as we arrive. No newspaper announcement with starched wording and unpolished details. The invitation should be in the form of a mix CD, and the details of time and place will be hidden clues derived from the song titles. Invite everyone I’ve ever made laugh and thank them for me, for returning the favor. If they question you on that, have them count it in the papery crinkles about my eyes. The truth will be waiting there. Set a smile on my face—one that proves how much joy prevailed. Dress me how you’ll remember me—comfortably, colorfully, and untamed. No make-up or hairspray. I want to exit this world just as pleasantly disheveled as a I entered it.

When the day comes to say goodbye, lift me up on a giant patchwork pillow made from the hundreds of novelty t-shirts I wore threadbare in my twenties. Stuff the space between the seams with the pages of my countless journals I always felt the need to hide, even though I lived alone for most of my life. You’ll have more than enough stuffing, I promise. Feel free to keep whatever is left over for a good laugh when you need it. Sew the seams with bright gold thread and cover it with all of the coat buttons I managed to lose over the years. I’ll lead my gracious hoard of respect-payers as we travel to nowhere. Have the children ride on elephants that have been painted the reds, oranges, and purples to match the sunset. Paint their little faces to match if they’d like. There must be dancing bears and majestic tigers in tow too. A parade fit for a lover of life, complete with a marching band that plays nothing but horn-heavy soul to keep the journey a happening one.

Prop me up against a willow tree when you’ve reached the spot. Lay out blankets for everyone to sit on, and hold the service well into the deep blues and purples of the evening. As the sun sets, and the lightning bugs take flight, man the masses with sparklers that will stay lit for hours. Have everyone spell out their favorite memories of me and stand in awe of the ardent glow in every direction.  Allow the children to feed the elephants all the peanuts they can handle. Enjoy the tigers’ purr and the bears’ tight hugs. Pretend they’re my very own that I didn’t get a chance to give. Set up an old jukebox nearby so that couples and friends can slow dance to Sam Cooke 45s as the sun disappears into the watery horizon. Pour the finest beers and wines for everyone willing, and tap into that West Virginia moonshine that I’ve always been too afraid to try. Clink your glasses and laugh from the belly as you drink to all of our missed friends and equally missed opportunities. Drink another for me and another for good luck.

As the alcohol curbs the night’s chill, set me atop my pillow at the water’s edge. Line my body with candles, warmly lit and housed in all of the tiny temples of colored glass you could manage to find at the local thrift stores. Before you give me a push, take a minute to appreciate how all of their dancing shades create an unspoken magic against the dark sky. As I drift off into the sea, send a paper lantern up and away—one for every time you’ve seen me smile and two for every time you watched me cry. I know I was more alive in those tears than I could ever be in the curves of my grins. The time will be right, at some point—and when it is, have the limber young bodies climb the tallest trees and shoot hundreds of roman candles in my direction. I want to light up the night sky and go out with a bang more awe-inspiring than the Fourth of July. When I’m less than a bright speck on the horizon, find your way back to where we started. One less than before.

When it’s all over, you’ll find me in the comfort of the warm light in every birthday candle and in the corners of your smile when you find happiness in a moment that you couldn’t buy. In every nowhere you find that turns into somewhere, I’ll be there, missing you too.
© Bitsy Sanders, April 2016

Curtis Smith, a local PA writer had previously written a piece entitled, "My Totally Awesome Funeral." It definitely inspired this piece.
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
To foreign lands I want to roam
Where Kings and Queens sit upon their throne
And big cats prowl, and wild dogs howl
And there's every kind of fowl
Where mighty elephants trumpet
And with tea they serve crumpets
I want to see the very old creations of man
I know I'd be their biggest fan
To walk the ground that Jesus tread
And feed the masses with seven loaves of bread
I would love to see the foreign sands
To get homesick and return to my home land
Amy Dec 2015
Elephants are grey
They are tall
Baby Elephants are cute
They are small
MOTV Nov 2015
X's and O's.*

I feel like its all a show.

Even from the start, as you depart, kissing the essence of the globe.

For all we know.

X's and O's.

Bring pleasure to your genitals.

Be gentle hoes.

I am making a mental picture of the old.

Days when.

X's and O's.

Publicly got you hanged.

Referring to the X as kissing and the O as hugging on the -
*****.

and why the mind insane?

Because there's more to that strange then what meets the brain.

Don't get corrupted look away.

It is some strange day now can you say that,
we will all meet this lustful fate.

Contemplate to the date that I see my son or girl grow in ways,
then hit the world publicly they make the appearance of grace and being.

But then Xs and Os take wing.

Their battles will rattle as I see myself on a mantle of crust.

Made from earth.
Lord Almighty made me from dirt.

Did it hurt?

Did it spew blood like at birth-

And then the rebirth of the unberthed berthed reunion to the dirt .

I am dead.
X O X O
Mysterious Aries Aug 2015
Since I cannot cure my schizophrenia
I decided to end my owned dilemma
I looked for a rope to hang my head
But split in two, that old rope left me undead

But that was not enough to stop my will
In our kitchen, a shining blade
But I pause for awhile for the reason
That I might pass out undead

So I then looked for a key
To open the cabinet
Unsealed the gun that was strictly kept
To put into my head that one tiny bullet
Just one shot and for sure I’ll be lucky dead
I pulled the trigger it didn’t clicked

Then I realized I've never done any
I’m stocked in my lonely room
Chatting with nymphs, those god’s so holy
Then I began to chill while facing demon and ghost so scary

My world was full with delusions
I can fight no more this emotion
Since they cannot cure my schizophrenia
How I wished to end my owned dilemma

But how can I?
They don’t want me to
I was incarcerated in this empty room
No rope to hang this head
No blade to slash my pulse
No gun to point in my head...

written: July 01, 2014
Mysterious Aries
My Schizophrenia Poem #1
Invocation May 2015
Whisper cold chills into my skin again
I will warm your throat with a gesture
Be a little less respectful
I wandered with only you for reasons I can't speak
Take me, anytime
My words are filling the space you create when you're nervous
I'm on your mind for a reason
I find you comfortable, and not just socially
The moments you drive me insane make me want to bind your arms
I resist because it's not about having what you want
I just want and that's enough for me

We can lie around for hours talking and watching the waves
I don't mind waiting
The breeze fills me with sand and salt and the water stings my eyes
SO many new flavours and textures
Your eyes being my favourite
Mr Noodles
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