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I am shade
twisted, interfolding
Bones are cliffs
Blood is liquid cream clay
Flesh blooms on a fertile soil
In uncovered shadow
It shapes with mist, mud and naked trees
Season apparelled
Dissolving in tenderness and movement
I crave tenderness of a cloud
I crave whiteness of a movement
I crave, I crave!
And bury that craving in softness
Jay M 6d
Moving about
For now,
Not a care or doubt
Don't ask how

Twisting in the breeze
Tripping, swinging with ease
Lean back, over the rails
Then push off
Snap right back

Spin around the bend
Climb up and fall
Into the soft pit
Feeling the air move around
Caress and tossing
Never to hold

A ribbon in the wind
Flowing freely
Unable to be grasped or held
Whispering in the breeze,
"Come catch me now"

- Jay M
October 22nd, 2020
VibeActivist Sep 13
as the song plays in the background
as the moon shines on our adolescent love
and as the stars shimmer in jealousy
i see you for who you are
I see you for the imperfections that makes you, you
as you smile, as i stare lovingly at you
and how you make my world radiate—
you were the nothingness that gave my life spark
the light at the end of the tunnel
most of all, you are my past, present and future
VibeActivist Sep 16
Who writes for the poets

when they are down or distressed

who writes them stanzas to feel loved
Big Virge Sep 9
Ya Know  I Try To STICK To Movements...
To Things That I Be Doing... !!!

Improvements I Have Made...
Have Been Things That Have SHAPED...
The Wordplay I... Create... !!!!!!!
From Being... " Re-Arranged "...
Time And Time... AGAIN.... !!!

Because of YES... IMPROVEMENTS...
That Show Me How To BETTER...
My Use of Thoughts And Letters...

Like... " V "...
I Bring VENDETTAS... !!!

To Government... "Agendas "...
And Fellas Who Are SENSELESS...
When It Comes To Being UPSETTERS... !!!!!

So Like... LEE PERRY...
I **** These FIENDS...
Through Dub Plate Beats...
And... SMARTER Tracks...
Than... DUPPIES' Have... !!!!!!

Cos' My JUICE Improves...
WITHOUT.... " Footloose ".... !!!!!!

To WARD OFF............... EVIL People... !!!!!

Because I IMPROVE With EVERY Groove...
And EVERY Tune I Put Words To...

And That's The TRUTH... !!!!!

Just Like... FINE WINE...
I Improve With Time............................... .....

When It Comes To Rhymes...
... That I Now Write... !!!!!!!

And Bass Lines That...
I Find Now Guide...
My Speech To REACH...

.... " Poetic Feats "....

That PROVE To Be...
MORE Than... Worthy... !!!

To FEED Hierarchies...
of.... ARTISTRY..... !!!!

CREATIVELY... I Improve DAILY... !!!
But When It Comes To MOVEMENTS...
Where Girlies WANT... " Seducing "...

MY Movements NEED Improving... !!!!!
Or Maybe... I KEEP Choosing... ???
These Girlies Who Be FOOLISH... !!!

Because They'd RATHER Move With...
These... PRETTY Boys And LOSERS... !!!

Well CLEARLY They're The LOSERS...
When PICKING... Male ABUSERS... !!!!!!!!

Who Like Them Deal In LOOSENESS...
In How They're Making Movements  ... !!!

While I KEEP On Producing...

Because It KEEPS On Cruising...
And KEEPS My Mind In Tune With...
Making MOVES And Cooling...
With Schooling That's IMPROVING... !!!

The Way I Make MY......

...... " Movements "......
It's not always easy, but, it's mightily important to make GOOD ONES !
tried to clean your grave
again today. i miss you.
i was only three.

he blames you, you know,
for something you said to him
when he was sixteen:

"make her come back home;
don't come back until you do.
go get your mother."

he didn't talk back.
"you didn't do that back then."

instead, he broke down
thinking you abandoned him
just like that woman.

i know you loved him.
i know you were a good man.
something ****** you up.

whatever it was,
it was speaking through you then,
that unholy ghost.

he never heard me,
only thoughts to argue with
when i was that age.

i absolve you both
though i struggle to do so.
christe eleison.
August 2020
The stillness feels like death
But movement isn't life either
I'm getting bored again
But moving around isn't the answer

I'd rather move inward
Make a temple in my heart
That only I can build or destroy

For I know why I move.
To feel home in places
Alien to humanity
A temple in my heart..
Words' Worth Jul 4
The average worker can work for 15 hours
A man can provide for his children a meal a day
Children lose the ability to educate themselves
Once they start work, a stated routine, a stated marriage
They are someone else's property
Man is the only creature, that let's their fathers die in the jungle
And their mother die in someone's arms
Man is the only creature, that can tan-hide his brother
But, there is a stated routine for the brothers
For the brothers need to be bred for work
Like milked cattle on milch barns
All standing in long lines waiting for the next mile of grass
Man can **** man over some grass and coke
By grass I mean land
By coke I mean a limey drink for 20 cents
I guess men could be better without their possessions
Imagine it without the drugs or bummed smokes
Imagine life without the movie stars and all the signs
There is a stated routine in how we keep buying
Putting our mattress kings to sleep on cushioned beds
While our workers eat the pavement and dirt every fine day
Like I said man can **** man, over money and love
How ironic that money buys love.
James Rives Jun 17
the truth chained itself and,
grimacing, he followed.
each star he eyed blew past,
one by one, and perched
themselves within him.
he picked, prodded, pleaded,
sleep smudging the night's corpse,
and optimism left him.

bit by bit, he read her heart
and lost it in translation.
her energy was effervescent,
and warm. inconsistent.
her energy was eclectic-- fierce,
and her words: silken, undisturbed
he lost himself in her songs,
the playlists of past hurts, wants, haves-
and happiness. rhapsodic
pain is a telegraph,
a tactile sensation that sounds off,
telling stories of past mistakes.
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