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Gabriel burnS Sep 2017
My broken lightbulb,
I have conserved your light
Unto my pages
Stop raining shards
You are weeping now
Inconsolably
Your crumbling body
Wasting further away
Unnecessarily
Beyond return
But you will find no solace
In my eyes
In my skin
Where you cut and you burn
For you’ve been but a shining
On my ceiling
That I’ve let too long replace the sun
Marc Hawkins Sep 2017
From somewhere way beyond midnight
a breeze sifts gentle but true
through an open window.
A candle blows a fatal last kiss
before plunging the room into darkness.
The breeze, lively now and Jack Frost cold,
hugs him like a spoilt child.
It kisses him from numb lips to frozen toes
and skips a tormenting dance along his spine.
His heart – an igloo, a derelict furnace –
beats no more than four in four.
Death march. Dirge.

Once strong now weak.
Muscles decayed, now hangs sinewy flesh,
Red-sore, purple veined.
Hairless and airless.
In the darkness, pain has an image.
You didn’t get the chance to kiss her goodbye.
You could only watch from the window
As she dissolved in the light,
Like an aspirin into water she went.
Matter into purity, dissolving and concentrated.
Both matter and purity.

In the distance the sound of a crying baby dies
And gone is the occasional bark of a worried dog.
The wind picks up again – audible - and blows
Fragmented memories through the open window.
Do you swear you can smell her perfume on the breeze?
Of course. She is the breeze now.
She is all and all is she.
Have I gone? Is this what it is like to be gone?
How painlessly boring is death,
with nothing to do but wait to be born again?
Born again into space
Or dissolve and become like she
A fragmented memory

Copyright Marc Hawkins 2008
emmie cosgrove Jul 2017
An old metal box locked away
A treasure chest if you may
Containing fragments of your childhood
A china doll, broken
Photographs stained with age
The thunderstorm struck, you told me it would
That cursed the hours of your days

I awoke this morning
And in my veins flowed a longing sensation
My lungs tried to inhale as much air as they could
I paced up and down the pale hallway
That echoed with your golden memories
Your laughter danced up and through the window
Your tears rained down throughout the cities light show

All that was left was;
An old metal box, locked away
A treasure chest if you may
Containing fragments of your childhood
Dismantle your convictions
Break them beyond recognition
Into the smallest parts imaginable
For those fragments of atoms
Build us up.
M Harris Feb 2017
Flamboyant darkness,
Frameless frames.

Acetone visions,
Two tone transitions.

A night drenched in radioactive dreams,
Through slowing chemical split streams.

A million visions downstream,
Flowing midstream into mainstream,
Escalating the extremes off-screen,
Whirling into aquamarine.

Remorseless eternity,
A beautiful insanity,
Buried in tranquility.

For my heart is filled with celestial vengeance,
Her cauterized love stains,
Etched in me with her spectral prophets.
Reveries from her past,
Fragments built to last.

Sizzling me into a fragile sculpture
And echoes resonating & void the rupture.

- 02:59AM
M Harris Feb 2017
The biochemical snow emanates bopping dejected the extended, short existences of winter,
Twisting and wandering in knee deep whiteouts that scream and moan,
The chemical spirit, at first light mildly falling in inverse star-shaped fragments,
Beseeches virtue before the wheezing shovels, the scraping ploughs,
The ghosts departed back to air in a crystal tune,
A triad stinging from the bare breach in grade school melodic period.

From the willowy walkway down the timbered trajectory,
Snowflake burdened branches combinate into a rhyme with the masked sun,
The raw, stripped light in overdue the hemlocks,
Stillness shattered only by the cracking cold.

The rivulet is icy over, yet liquid runs,
Underneath, under, deep in its veiled preserve,
Life, the anonymous shadow,
Scuttle’s from stone to stone,
Mingling up a smidgen of gravel from its silent inactivity.
Isabelle Jan 2017
-
•fig•ment : something made up or contrived
•re•al•i•ty : the quality or state of being real
-


*Dreaming while sleeping, and sometimes awake
Whimsical fancies fueling escape

Wishing is for the uncertainties
Collecting more than three from genies

Checking out my daily horoscope
Astrology might give me some hope

Calling out all the deities I know
Bending my knees, blessings they might bestow

The magic still holds expectations
Of this world its seen from all views

But the signs are unclear, faded
It doesn't feel useful when put to use

And I still await, alone
For something that may just come passing by

Or maybe in the form of an angel
Dancing with howling clouds across the sky
Collaboration with my friend, NB. I'm so happy with this one, thank you for accepting my request!
blue mercury Jan 2017
the boughs of some grand tree
reached
down to touch me, it's claws grasping
for my thoughts, calling me lovely
painting me in parts, colouring me disgusting,
calling out my simplicity, calling out
my loving
soul or remaining sanity
i drive. i drive away, away, away...

these scattered fragments remain.
this mind of mine is trying to stay
sane.
dis·jec·ta mem·bra
dəsˌjektə ˈmembrə/
noun
scattered fragments, especially of written work.
Mihir Kulkarni Oct 2016
All of your thoughts,
All the words you’ve ever said,
All of your touches,
All the stories you’ve ever made...
All of your songs,
All of your handwritten notes,
All of your photos,
All of your beautiful clothes…
Resurface in my dreams
****** night after night,
I wake up in cold sweat
To find you nowhere in sight…

Kaleidoscope of my restless mind
Shows a new picture of you and me,
Solace for the scattered memories
Light of future those couldn’t see…

I can’t bathe in your light anymore
Million stars successfully keep us apart,
All that remains is ether without you
Aimlessly I find your reflection in art…

I let my heart get ripped so often
Try to find happiness in what remains,
I know my dreams are broken
But I like to love the fragments…
Dirt Witch Sep 2016
Smoke on the windowsill
Dust and ash clinging to bare feet
Cigarettes numb the air
Sighing each other to sleep in synchronization
Breathe slow

Half-sipped cups and sticky residue
Strewn playing cards collapsed on the carpet
Crumbs and remnants of socialization
Empty chairs
Silent atmosphere

Eyes open in a sleeping room
Anxiety pooling in jittery feet
Twice heavy breathing in tandem
Syncopated with a third dissonant exhalation
Closed blinds
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