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Louisa Coller May 2018
When a story starts from the very beginning,
is it really the very beginning?

When Cinderella started her tale so cold,
it only told what we wanted to be told.
Not the years of anguish, pain and utter destruction,
those were irrelevant to our audience?

For I feel dazed, not replying at all,
the sense of edge filling up my soul.
I almost cackle at the phrase,
it's not really something I'd want to say.

You leave me a message with ambition and delight,
but I don't reply on this night,
or week, month, year to come.

It's not you,
you just don't know me at all.

When you sent that message of hope and glee,
I was stuck in my daze of emotionless fields.
But I promise you now, please listen to me clear,
one day I'm finally going to get out of here.

It's not your fault, my lips are sealed,
you just didn't know what happened to me.
Sean Achilleos Apr 2018
Though this world is full of people
There is no one for you
You are entirely alone
You observe a film and catch a bird's eye view of a giant size city
You see the enormous buildings
Uncountable windows
In every window there is a light
Where there is a light, there is life
So many people you think
How is it possible that I am alone, you say
Every time you reach out to be loved
It crashes on barren ground
Most don't understand you
And those who do
Only understand a small part of you
Forever giving of yourself
Yet never receiving
A soul in anguish
Yet you know that out of darkness and despair creativity comes
You long for those short lived moments
Like a flower that blossoms in season
Only to wither away when the moment is over
Trampled underfoot by the clowns of this world
The ones who know so much, yet actually know so little
The ones who base their cleverness and worth on their fattened bank accounts
They say we are all equal and deserve happiness
Really now???
Or has our life path been carved out before the beginning of time
Some to thrive and others to suffer
Like Judas was chosen to betray Jesus
I'm sure he just fulfilled his role in life, somebody had to do it
Yet it's human nature to question why you are devoid of Love
Have I done something wrong in a previous life, you ask
Afraid to smile in case it gets wiped off by the reception of bad news
For the vulture is forever watching while sitting on the perch
Waiting quietly like a scarecrow in a field
For when you fall he will be ready to devour
Written by Sean Achilleos
30 April 2018©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Amazon: Sean Achilleos 'An Affair with Life' The Philosophical Poems of Sean Achilleos
YouTube: Sean Achilleos

Sean Achilleos' Music is also available on the following platforms:
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Sean Achilleos' Book 'An Affair with Life' is also obtainable from the following platforms:
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Kt Lynch Apr 2018
Sad soul looking for something in life to inspire me
Used to be
Nothing could stop me now
I'm just too ******* tired, see--
Life with ease
Just isn't in my expertise  
"Could you be less dramatic, please"
Not really, actually...  
Usually
I don't talk about it--  
I keep it to myself
Hide all my problems on the highest shelf
Note to self
If you need help
Pop a pill and let it melt
Watch as colors blur and stir
Forgotten feelings of
Pure bliss
Weightlessness
and happiness
you thought had Died
along with your innocence
It's ******* isn't it
But picture it
You are a blank canvas
You are a lotus flower
Rising from the black abyss
Blooming zooming moving
Towards the top and the sky doesn't exist
But clouds have a funny way of providing more than just rain
The white is stained with pain
You feel like all your molecules
have been rearranged
The world looks strange nothing in it's right place
It's cool just go get *******
Let the poison erase
All but a trace
Say goodbye to this place
You're moving on
Way past gone as you try to remember what it was like
To feel normal
Like lyrics of a forgotten song
Kt Lynch Apr 2018
Sometimes I feel like I am a river
Flowing and carving a course without any control gravity pulls me the moon tugs me I am helpless can you blame me for wishing I could just evaporate and become nothingness?
Sometimes I feel like I am a tree
Growing slowly wise and old seeing things around me witnessing the world people carve their names into me I am scarred but my bark is rough and my leaves withstand to feel the warmth of the sun and the cool night air would you blame me for hoping I have a purpose?
Sometimes I feel like I am the wind
Traveling endlessly restlessly stirring leaves on the ground hoping I cause change that I will be felt and heard I am powerful at times and playful at others I am a welcome presence to people in need of a light breeze to cool off should you blame me if I am only searching for a place to rest?
Sometimes I feel like I am a cave
Tunneling deep into the earth I am dark and beautiful and dangerous the sun can't touch my cold stone walls I am cavernous solitude in the velvety darkness do you blame me when I can't let you shine a light within me?
Nic Mac Apr 2018
hear me
i will speak clearly,
or clearer still.
you don't
know me,
clearly,
still.
go about this day.
as i remind.
as you read,
from my own voice,
that
i am a girl you never met,
or mustn't have.
i've learnt this now.
and so think of me,
what you will,
or what you have,
or what you feel.
hear me.
hear the truth,
regretfully discovered.
you're wrong about me
or was,
and will be.
By Nic Mac
Aaron LaLux Apr 2018
She doesn’t even know I dance,
rhythm is a dancer,
my heart on my sleeve of armor,
a snake charmer moving faster and faster,

no boa constrictors,
more of a cobra that stays sober with business,
denying these pythons in nylon at all cost,

might be a viper,
might be the remedy for these toxic enemies,
the medicine to defend against the poisons in these city streets,
can’t call I’m all lit it’s a vibe thing and I’m busy vibrating,

go ahead and blame the boy in us for being so boisterous,
and being industrious enough to avoid the poisonous cottonmouths,
can’t trust these snakes these days more Chimera than Ciara,
as the World floods we just keep burning down the house,

in a constant state of affairs,
caught up in the nostalgia of Yesterday’s tomorrows,

we realize that this life we live is ours,
and that’s why we have everything except doubt,
meanwhile they’re still wondering,
who let the dogs out,

so we run in the sun,
swim in the ocean,
and make moments,
so we’ll hopefully be remembered,

even though I’ve got a terrible memory,
and you probably do too,
you know memory is a funny thing,
there are 2 sides to every truth,

well actually there’s 3,
but I don’t think anyone is counting,
because at this point in time,
we’re just happy we’re not drowning,

ship so heavy,
sea so stormy,
we fear we might trip,
and sink into unfounded glory,

so what’s the moral to this story,
what’s the lesson in this song,
I guess it’s to remember I still love you,
even though I know I was wrong,

so when they notice we’re gone,
and ask where we went,
tell them we were here in this moment,
and now we’re gone with the wind,

moving like the hottest God or Goddess,
call me Quetzalcoatl with vocal quotes filled,
within the pages placed into the Mind of our collective history,

let God be Our Witness,
we are Living History,
we are not only everywhere,
we are also everything,

everyone,
that’s ever read the written word,
will understand that this life we live,
is nothing more than a verb,

a fleeting moment of emotional memory,
everything all at once forget everything except I love you,
slash my wrist birth my kids,
no labels no lies, no way only truth,

and the truth is,

She doesn’t even know I dance.

∆ LaLux ∆

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Jaden Mar 2018
Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I'm sad

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I feel like nothing

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I don't know

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
You wouldn’t understand

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I want to cry but I won't

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I just wish…

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I want to scream

And Sometimes
“I’m just tired”
Means I’m lost
and I don't know what to do
© KMH 2018
Mar 2018
people are poetry

often times we overanalyse,
expect too much
and demand an answer
from the most simplest concepts.
the simplest people.

people are poetry
for what seems to be complicated
can be the described in the simplest terms;
if only ears are patient enough
to await the meanings that unravel themselves.
        
people are poetry
for they are simple
yet intricate,
coherent but complex,
and ever so full of meaning;

if only ears were patient enough to await the meanings
- that unraveled themselves through time and understanding -
only then will we accept that people are poetry.





-z
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