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mark soltero Feb 2021
ages it’s felt like you’re mine
you let me come inside
naked and true
there are no lies
i’ve adopted all the ways to hate myself
selfish demise
it’s gone when i look in your eyes
nothing feels lonely
get close with me
release bursting between
S Jan 2021
You scan me
With your Western eye
Standing tall, clinging
To your elitist lie.

With your righteous mission,
You desire is to teach me,
Yearning for my submission,
Refusing to free me.

The lies you tell yourself
Do not deceive me;
You claim to make me more,
While forcing less of me.

More?
More ‘educated’
More ‘cultured’
More ‘literate’
More Western.

More you, less me.

The volume of my voice
Is not primitive, nor savage
It is my culture, my heritage,
Which you have ravaged.  

My culture, my language,
My education, my literature,
Are slowly eradicated
By the standards of worth
You have dictated.

My language is not irrelevant,
Nor menacing.
It is my heritage, my legacy,
Tainted by your supremacy;
It is not powerful as Athena,
Rather it burns with the fiery
Passion of Nuha.

I will not be silenced,
I will not lightly tread,
For those who fake alliance,
Whilst wishing me dead.
Juno Jan 2021
When we made eye contact earlier
it wasn’t the same.
Something hangs between us and I can’t feel you as clearly as I used to.
Moe Jan 2021
A faint tiny tear
Can feel like a replacement arm
Leg or eye
Alina Dec 2020
Vast and deep, even the oceans envy your eyes.

A.C.
Oceara Miedema Dec 2020
God, it's not a thing, it's not nothing.
Bigger than what we can make of it in here.
Look wider, feel further.
The gates are always open.
It's not a loop of a conspiracy theory.
It's not the act of just world leaders in control.
It goes beyond this world, the matrix.
You'll find in your heart what's right.
16-12-20
some dark
some bright
some come to light
during the wee hours of night
some crystal clear
some just out of sight
but all are real and all are right
as I slip into the fearless flight
of the mind's eye
this was initially a response to a comment on another poem...I liked it and made another! Thank you Lori Jones McCaffery for inspiring this!
Nylee Nov 2020
I've been sitting on the top of the ladder
looking at the world from the high I can reach
every once in a while someone glances my way
I look back straight in the eye till they look away.

There is peace which I can attain here
no one looks down on me even if they want to
But there is nothing straight up to my height
Everything is placed below my sight.
KG Oct 2020
Her curiousity calls, my interest stolen
A spirit about her face, when she, seeing
This wonderlust, inescapable, mine,
Yet temporary, as is this.

She emanates a significance,
I can't
resist escaping my chrysalis.

Tasteless, the breath of polluted life I savor
But for a moment. This purest waste it's haste to be expelled back to the sheltered waters which I dwell. Safe now, it sifts back to rest complete amongst the volume I've employed, until I deem its time to feed and shelter with my form.

I float above the seaswept alleys, scrutinizing the bones below, my home, the city of apathy and ruin.
The displacement of my passage rends the ocean in its vastness cleanly. Silent echoes vexed and roiling against the vacant ruins now follow me like nascent hounds. Warily I scale the depths to assess the source of my intruige, and see the obscure sky that holds the gleaming fires of sunset atop it's surface.

"How long have I been here?"
I wonder, and begin to see my real self, sitting on the floor of a home. I feel the ocean and focus my will to observe what caught my interest.

Then sight beholden a paradox,
An encounter fate withheld to ensure
The prospect flounder in a grave I dug years before. The living dead, the myths of old, gods, demons, angels, magic. I found it odd, how deeply painful and tragic my choice to discard my hope for a mask.
No longer.

I am now captivated, yet not by her body,
Enthralled, yet not by her sophistication.
These marked her ardent spirit of royal eloquence, but the intense affirmation held within the emerald sockets that could stop  sense of self when our eye's crossed paths into the traps willingly sprung.

Ah, the fool I'd be to attempt conversing with just a whim, without consent, without intruige!

Then, a wink.

This invitation sent so soon, to someone gazing from another room
She waded to me, half a grin, wry & ****
Effectively stopping all pretense of conscious thought, Instinctually I prevented the dropping of my jaw, and stopped my brain from shutting off completely, or tried to anyways.
She was getting closer, steady pace,
[What should I do now? I'm drowning in my own self doubts. I'm unworthy, a clown in comparison! Maybe she thinks I'm someone else, I'll not allow myself to expect the unexpected route, at most I'm just a simple rebound. ]
This plague of thoughts continued down thinking how I could run away, but I hesitated, and it's too late.
A part of me tries to defer her play. Escape, and drift back beneath the salty waters of marshland behind my eyes, while hers stare deeply into them. My attempts to decline her company are ignored, and I'm stopped. She holds me quietly, the beauty of her eyes a spotlight guiding the search of my face for signs of compliance or defiance.
I'm lost now.
Lost in the eyes of a friend I needed years ago, eyes that match the wonder mine held. They peer through those that cross our path, without fear, or judgment, or expectation. Her golden orbs speak kindly, beautiful they are, and fierce. Her stare holds mine, and though nothing is said, we read the others expressions like two lost strangers, deaf and mute.
Unabashedly she studys the facets of my expression, admitting freely these feelings of intense attraction.
She gently tests the waters that bars my cage, she rests expertly sitting on the floor next to me. She glances up, so close to me now her expression a breathy question.
How long until I could accept her intentions? I feel the shackles release, she coaxed the key from my my captors, thieving crafter of my release. Embracing her comfort and pleasant breeze. I take hold of her arm, then bit her politely, delight shows as she pulled me further from my city of despairity.

Seas now far below, The water from my lungs exchanged, now I sit in this party on the floor with my love without a name. I clutch her hand and grasp her eyes, breathe in deeply the easy air she helped me find. We stand and head outside.

Now the night is brightly lit by the many eye's of Nyx. She watches us watching her content to guide us from afar

We stay quiet, talking with our eyes until arriving at the station, the parking lots border shops finding space to lay and gaze at the mosaic in the sky

Then begins speech unending.

Attention, on her it looks mesmerizing, she began training in the ways of climbing deftly,  then set her sights on the hermit keepers of inner self, squirreled away in the deepest craggy recesses of  their self-isolating depression.
Her gear, well worn yet sturdy, she traversed the labrynths of the soul effortlessly. Astonishing and

The sun, now soon to wake reminds me time is rife to take my soul to depths beneath the motionless sea of my making, while the sunlight in her eyes whispers promises of eternity.
To dream and dread together, weaving webs to shelter those truly free, hungry and helpless, yet gifted with sight to see past the momentary issues, issued to men who believe the promises of those who won't miss you.
People like me, perhaps.
I think.
I sink.
In secret, I flash my contempt for my leviathan below. Resting, waiting. It demands  me to remain and skulk the streets of spines that once belonged to me. I'm kept to entertain the formless ****** that slink like klepto's thoughout my fallen city of memories. It keeps them busy, and when they are I search the ripped seams of pockets in dreams. In them was hidden my stolen key, which without I've forgotten peace.

Beneath the waves I drink the salty brine, my lungs adjust to the viscous salt base liquid,
Above cold white-capped crests oscillate,
I'm tethered here. I admit these weights are present, and **** me if I won't accept it.

My simple mind. Behind these watching eyes dwells my sea, and before the serpent catches me again, I see the soft ember color of her eyes in the distance.
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