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Alicia Moore Mar 2021
Her tongue was slick with grime as she lied
to the doe eyed boy who held her gaze.
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
the moon chased me through cities
growing more as days go by

I could not escape its gaze
through foggy curtained windows

I always thought I was made for
the night but as it turned out

the moon burns in me more
than the sun ever could
This poem was written in 2018.
Daisy Ashcroft Jan 2021
There was a girl,
She’s gone now,
Who lived and breathed
Imagination and life,
(Aren’t they the same thing?).

She saw the house down the street
And thought it a monster
Never that it was replete
With the emptiness  
An innocent bungalow will foster.

Air was to her
As glass water that sings
About its giggling spring
And she would awaken
At its dance upon her skin
As she breathed it all in.

The air is now
As water, grey like mercury,
That dampens what the eye can see
And it is chagrin
That is awoken
At a world so forsaken.

Nietzsche was mistaken
When he proclaimed
Our God as dead.
It’s the vision and
Stories for which we used to aim
That expires instead.
When I first met you,
I had yet to face you..

Memories dug deep,
Presented as a heap..

Resemblance of me,
Your semblance deceived..

Ungrateful eyes,
And a fateful life..

Stories untold,
And memories unfold..

A gaze and a stare,
Within the rage and despair..

Two strangers meet,
And sane they leave..

To horizons unseen,
And boundaries within..
You can communicate via eyes.
Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2020
I want to gaze
You
Until I see
My own galaxy

Ever lasting sun
And the moon
And the stars
And the rainbow
And the safe heaven
And find myself
Mirrored
Authentic

Like this
Genre: Almost Romantic
Theme: sublime
Leaves crunch around, the wind blows hard.
The trees shudder slightly as we rhythmically step.
Brown and gold colors catch our eyes.
I turn around, your eyes inviting and deep.
I am so thankful that beauty is everywhere
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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.
Bhill Oct 2020
laying in bed waiting, just waiting for 5:55
dawn has arrived
5:55 AM is a reminder that a fresh new day is here
arrived with a gentle call to stretch and welcome its newness
listen to the sound of coffee grinding and brewing into your cup
gaze at the morning stars that have been above for eons
smell the chilled dawn air as you just breath
take a moment, throw your arms up and out into a large welcoming stretch
and then
noise from morning traffic on Center Street shakes your mood
you're awake....

Brian Hill - 2020 # 290
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