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A pitch black blanket of unwound strands
Lays splayed before broken words in impotent rage
Breathing ragged against a winter window

Mirrors outlined in dark silk mock all they reflect
And tell no truths in their unwashed humor
But smile like cats eyes at the moon

A four chambered cavern sits sealed in frozen stone
With faded cave paintings raving in the dark
Hinting at old fires that burned

Simmering thinly and frail beneath a calm front
A snap on the edge of the cusp is only a
Sudden strike away and expecting the spark

So the frail line scratched in sand fails its promise
And gives away all it said it stood for
In the name of some sad joke
This poem's evolved a lot.  kind of a very early experiment in objective correlative for me so it might seem opaque in meaning. while it's very open to interpretation, and I welcome those, for me it's really just describing or creating an impression of a girl I briefly knew back in the day. We were never close but she did leave a deep imprint at the time.  Each stanza is supposed to describe a feature of hers while together summing up what I concluded, right or wrongly, about her character and mindset.  In
corresponding order, I hope people might picture her hair, eyes, heart, mind, and smile with each new stanza.  The reader can judge how successful I was, though the possible need for this explanation may be a bad indicator
There's something fleeting, floating in this fancy,
Like fairy-tail we meet in midnight dreams,
Like ocean tide that brings its warmth upon us
In gentle gracious effervescent streams,
I see you there like flowers meet the sunshine,
There's so much happiness inside it almost shutters,
And bubbling wonder, and a wish to see you smiling,
And then my mind drifts off and my heart flutters…
annh Oct 2020
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I write to right the write-less, the unvoiced compendium of my experience. A

panoply of shadows between each line and behind the fumbled words miswritten

out of loyalty to the fiction I maintain. The letters which move beneath the page,

scintillating with suggestion, leaving their impression - a glimmer here, an echo

there; they are more honest than the fraught narrative that I deem fit to 'save'. I

write to right the write-less, to balance the unwieldy, to illuminate the intangible.


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‘Every act of reading is an act of forgetting: the experience of reading is a palimpsest, in which each text partially covers those that came before.’
- James A. Secord, Victorian Sensation: The Extraordinary Publication, Reception, and Secret Authorship of Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation
Simon Sep 2020
Kyle, you are the unsocial demerit point, because you tame that which isn't within the same parameters as your own guilt of never being able to essentially see past your own guilt, firstly. (Which is entirely filled too the absolute brimful of shame!) Shame that doesn't detest your own abstract mind from taming the logic that truly demands the official reasoning for you too cost more energy for yourself too bear (in order to suit your own needs from depleting even quicker. Then what was first realized.) While being at the demanding odds of something either unfortunate to ALWAYS come your way. Or (for the very first time in my very own simulation full of nothing more than completely realistic prolonged "shackled" days) that doesn't EVER seem to count the reasoning you need the very most. Mostly because life is truly never fair when it ONLY operates anyways, (for your very self first and foremost). On an operating system full of very tempting, unusual, unnatural and a seemingly unrealistic taste for more demerit points to be added in a complete collection full of both "wonder and detachment." Kyle, you’re also the unsocial demerit point, because you have yet to discover your own highs and lows upon your own governing system. It's not bad to be one's own demerit point. (Hell, I've been my own "demerit point" ever since the very beginning when I truly first popped out into this world full of "realistic advantages.)" Realistic advantages full to the absolute brimful of "factually chained uncertainties!" Your nothing more than a sense in your own details that doesn't limit one's own ideology against the world head-on! Instead, you devise a proper program for yourself against the desires of an even more proper exercise in order to free yourself full of the (not so rich) details that blind your own choices, from seeing the choice in it's own decision-making...from ever being able to reach the extension of your own actions. Actions that suddenly prompt its own inadvertent consequences, because the notion is in the very specifics that again demand you too see the odds that try to impress you (without even seeing "why that is)?"
Concluding what exactly...? Well, isn't it already obvious enough for you too "effectively" notice (ahead of time)?! Or are you too busy thinking on raising the bar of the current potential rate of your still rising (to this very day)...demerit points? Because that's what you should always be focusing on "separating" from your very structure of life, altogether. Versus the still ever-increasing rate of such a demerit succession!
Kyle, your more than just ANY ole demerit point. Because you don't lack which other's apparently do (ALL DAY LONG)! Compassion in your very heart!
Alex Braun Aug 2020
I want to be thought of as wild, feral, absolutely uncontrolled,
I want people to see me as barely restrained,
I want my hair to be an total mess and my smile to be a little unnerving,
I want my hands to be as soft as the sweetest moss but my fists as rough as the stones beneath,
I want to look like I've just climbed a tree or I'm about to dive into the ocean,
I wish to be perceived as thunderstorm, a maelstrom,
I am lost but not looking for a way home.
Nylee Jul 2020
Many people come and go
the door remains open
they come to leave one day
Although, I know
I keep getting attached

Their smile and anger
unreasonable behaviour
and their fiery vigour
an impression that will last long
but life has many to store.


Forgetting them, passing years
empty desks of all the dear
no two second stare
their closed door

Empty streets following
the tagging game not ending
I see them on my computer screen
as I unfriend them this last time

No peeking anymore
all of them, closed score
ending that chapter
but is it over?
Saudia R May 2020
I've only lived so many years

Only lived in so many places

Have only met so many people
And have only experienced so many things

But I've lived more than one life through every connection


Lived in all of the places they have been

Felt every feeling one feels with their loved ones








And have seen time as they have seen
it

unwind

And though it may seem impossible



through their eyes I see me

the world



in their reflection
see yourself in this as you see it. and then ask why.
Eyes painted like stars
Lips in the shape of heaven
...my fastest heartbreak.
~

You may never know my name
this is simply how it goes
in the realm of beauty and woe.
Reaching 2020 -
the vision is clear.
Your gleam is blinding,
my fortified dear.
This scene is worthy of an immortalized work.
Eyes painted like stars
lips in the shape of heaven
...my fastest heartbreak.
And he may never know my name.
This is just how it goes.
Anya Jul 2019
We visited an art museum today
“The Guggenheim” with it’s white spiraling architecture
I felt slightly cultured as I flipped through a book detailing an artist whose last name I vaguely recall started with a Q
Conveniently forgetting the very reason for my presence in that room being to charge my phone
Feeling educated as I recognize the names Matisse, Lautrec from my brief intro to art history courtesy of our overly enthusiastic design teacher
Basking in my elegance, taking petit little bites, of a macaroon in a cafe outside the museum
...Before noisily slurping my blood red ice tea
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