Breathe in,
Breathe out.

The cold air outside forms a cloud;
It reminds me
of my mortality.

Breathe in,
Breathe out.*

We are
all mortal beings.
We are
not invincible.

Love* is an amazing thing
People just mix up what hurts.
Love is Beautiful
Rejection is sad
Love makes a mortal hopeful
Disappointment makes him mad
Love is supposed to be Truthful
Lying makes the relationship go bad
Thus making the mortal ruthful
And begins placing feelings on a writing pad
Claiming " love is hurtful"
Lies, your words are ******* clad
For love is bliss.

-fir.m

Life and death, ardent lovers since the dawn of time
Separated by the world like an autumn twig snapped by a ruthless child
Still Life sent heavenly presents to death, by creating the living
Their love conquers, for they never stopped searching

Time adored the pair of lovers,
And became their courier
Delivering life’s gifts to death
Turning the living into ash

“How much do you love me?” she asks
“So much it outshines life and death” he answers
With youthful love and blooming passion he whispers
“Time is on our side, love. We shall last forever”

“Forever is a long time dear”
“We have all the time in the world”
Or at least that’s what he thought
As he picked her up and twirled

But time hurried to bring life’s next gift to death
And so
Cars collided like stars
She falls into an eternal slumber
And he forsaken
With abiding scars

They thought time adored them
But she only admired something purer.
By parting mortal lovers
She brought life and death together.

She quenches her thirst with
The tears of the inhabitants
Of sinkholes, claims them,
And gives birth to them anew.
Exhaling the winter wind, the
Scalding embers of December.

No one knows her name,
But you can confide in her.
Share your disarray, she will
Rectify you with her rhetoric.


She's seductive like suicide,
While I am as hung as a noose.
An irresistible demon, a potter
Shaping your every desire, a puppeteer
Manipulating the strings attached to your limbs.
Hailing from the same realm as Shang
Tsung, mortal anguish empowers her.

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

Electrons vibrate in the air,
Musty and foul in his lair,
Spiders crawl up and rats march the floor,
He gets a knock on his door

Flashes of memories linger,
His heart pounds with anger,
He crumples in anguish,
Death was his only wish.

The daily digest bore him with the rituals of rage,
The day masqueraded as time ticked for his age,
The radio blurted out static messages,
The speeches were of rage.

He opens the door, infallible and absent-minded,
The figure stood 8 feet tall,
Cloak and scythe, the usual routine,
Red sharp eyes peek out with an icy gaze,
“You wanted to take a shot?”

They found him dead on the floor,
He took up more space than he ever wished for,
Flies congregating where once there was a face,
Today the photos show his daze

He was the star of the masquerade,
The news of the digest,
People marched by in a parade,
The tortured soul laid to rest

Vijaya Balan (2010)

This mortal vein
These mortal eyes
This mortal skin
These all will die
This fading light
These fading dreams
This fading hope
These hearts that scream
This burning lie
These burning fears
This burning soul

I shed no tears

The dirt on my fingertips tells me I’ve been living my share of life.
Barefoot weather under forests boussom and twilight’s singing.
Passer by on agile chronicles of all perfectly ordinary everythings
slips off at the hint of fraction, contradiction, restriction.
Short and Primal-Stooped can nothing but ordinary days
be spent wandering: lessened by the shell of much disgrace.
Found no where but the ground we tread, and the blood we’ve bled.
Calling out to stones or Screaming at the air,
To find our names in the pidth of every nothing we have yet to see.
Often the clue of exactly why
we paint on the face of every
needless, ditty, grotty, blathered, ******, accursed, body ****** like a worm into the cold ground
to be eaten by time as a morsel.
Oh what a blessed blessing be it to be Mortal!