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Justyn Huang Jan 13
If happiness were a simple thing
As they'd say,
"Catch a little birdie before
It flew away"

I'd be living in the trees to catch them

Too long above the world below
The dirt, the mirth and roots that grow

Forgotten then for how we came to
kiss: the sun, the sky, the clouds to know.
Talis Ren Dec 2018
I am from the broken, pretty things,
the glue in the cracks
and the paint-over coat.
I am from the fixer-uppers
and the “she’s not quite right”s.
(Oh honey, puh-leeze
I know I’m a Nobody,
but Nobody’s perfect,
so let’s leave it at that.)

I am from hot and spicy foods,
that too-much-pepper burn.
I am from butter and cream,
whole milk, never skim,
from hard-to-pronounce chemicals
on the back of cardboard boxes.
(We’re all dying anyway,
so hand over the bacon.)

I am from poorly timed jokes,
bad puns and sarcasm.
I am from too many EXCLAMATION MARKS!!!
and question marks????
From Bold and Italics and Underline text,
and weird fonts
for the book manuscript.

I am from warm purple bruises
underneath my shin guards,
shadow-boxing in mirrors,
sore knuckles and tired bones.
I am from the ****** lip
after a lucky punch,
the laughing dares,
and the pat on the back
trailing after.

I am not from sugar and spice,
or anything nice.
I am from cacti and spiny roots,
from hot sand and spite.
The snap before the spark
and the ash after the light.
I learned to breathe easy,
by knowing how to survive.
Arcassin B Oct 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

Soul Demented , loyal replenish,
In a sea of sharks,
Dogs and cats and bats will get in the way of my heart,
And that is to see all that has been made crash and burn,
I am destined for this purpose, calling to my worth,

Do you wanna see the world burn like I do?
Make families perish into ash like I do?
Put smiles on everyone's face like I do?
Or get revenge on the man who abandons you,
Smiles , smiles , smiles makes the planet die off.
Smiles , smiles , smiles makes the planet die off.

Jason , Jason , don't you think the old man would have noticed
that his second bird is about to his get his wings cut off?
Jason , Jason , your mom went to great lengths just to get you
to me , just let the trust thing rub off,
Like the bones off your flesh when I wail on you with this crowbar
making a ****** mess on the floor, the one that I just mopped,
He'll never find his bird locked in cage , my old distant frienemy,
I wish I could do this to all my enemies.
-gabi p- Oct 2018
i'm from a small, yellow bedroom
yellow flowers, yellow layette
and yellow jaundiced skin  
i'm from the taste of the tea mother makes me when i'm sick
and from the sound of her singing
about how she looked and looked for the light
like the roots and the leaves floating in the boiling water
her voice a soothing sound
like bubbles in simmering tea

i'm from words written on a page-
the feeling of an old book and the smell of a new one
and i'm from hiding beneath the covers
falling in love with black letters printed on white paper
i'm from lots of illustrations and then none at all
when my mind became colorful enough to fill all the pages
i'm from "the game is afoot"
and "after all this time?"

i'm from all over the world
pieces of my heart, a jigsaw puzzle
like my family scattered all over the globe
i'm from canada, from the US, from france from lebanon from italy
i'm from a country nobody wants
but a country that desperately wants us back

i'm from messy hair, oversized sweaters
half-finished sketchbooks filled with promises
and ******* poetry lines
i'm from the echo of my own voice
against the splatter of the shower
i'm from reading in the flashes of street lamp lights
i'm from pursuing science and desiring art
drawing on the airplane's foggy windows
and wondering how it flies
with a clear head and with clouded eyes.
Bethan Roberts Aug 2018
Bright from the wine-dark **** the world
Is light itself, and the fingers of the newest covenant
Flower like petals.
She comes forth like a promise
Between legs that bore her;
Her cord has not yet been cut into the kiss of Cain,
And the secrets of her origin cling tight
To her flesh. Her chest heaves
Its first breath out of the blurry brightness,
******* in spirit from the dead air.
She holds for a surprised second,
Then throws back her rose-crowned head
And cries.
Waters of Visualizations flow through my soul
Slumbering, peacefully, winds of energies from afar
The call and whisk me away
To those astral planes allowing us to walk
and travel without tolls. without limitations.
As I touched your hands and I looked into your eyes
Your face appeared that it was not of this Earth
It was Human in looks and her beauty was quite breathtaking
She spoke in a language which seemed as if it were from ancient times.
Beautiful sounding words.
At first, my brain could not comprehend the messages that she was trying to convey to me
After holding her right hand, a glow, to my temple
A short while talk and in understandings of each other
We had no limitations and were free.
She spoke of the lack of appreciation
For the gifts of being placed in a new and beautiful world
Underappreciating the intelligence that "our family" was given
However, it had not dared to even tap within the childlike entry into such logic and learning.
How she reached out to me as I had been one of the few who tried to reach above this limits in which our family had been proud to watch me frow and overstep
I realized then.. we were not of this Earth.
We were a race from beyond the stars and were, to the openness to see such, were unwilling.
After strolling for what appeared to be many hours
It, was indeed many years on our real planet, which she spoke the name of "Xinix"
"Remain off course and watch the downfall of your world and extended family through useless wars and power greed. Refuse to see our true native tongue..not in words..but in telekinetic Communual Speech of Connected Minds."
"Spread the word. You have the brain knowledge I shared and the willingness to see our second planet grow. We shall always be in touch. Even past the measurement of stars...Through our Living Souls...
I know, Xenopus (your Xinic Race Name. To slow down or stop this infinite, childlike  insanity...or be the rescued while those about you destroy their own existence."
"I'll be looking after you."
The winds threw me back into my "ordinary and Logical World.."
This time, I "knew such travels were not of a dream"
As looking at my chest in the mirror - I saw the glowing blue heart beating from inside of me...
My true Family crest of one who Shall Help Teach the world. To those who would be able to understand and listen.
So I might be able to save, much more of our family, to reach the joining of a peaceful and loving race, true blue.
I had a weird Astral Travel (dream state). After awaking from this dream, I decided to share, such a miraculous message from it, with you - my loyal readers.
Pauper of Prose Jul 2018
Eros walked into the chamber, garnering all eyes
**** and Limerence walked by her side
They stopped before a panel where Venus did preside
And Cupid next to Venus, gripped his arrows like a prize
And the Muses made up the rest
And all muscles in the chamber braced for unrest
Glances and gazes did continuously dart
As all sported lockets of fire by their hearts
Venus declared mankind must suffer in pain
For all efforts to show the world love have been in vain
And to continue gifting love would be insanity, a chore
Cause they’d take their piece of it and still declare war,
On themselves and on one another
Slaughtering their self-esteems, siblings, fathers, mothers
Yet Eros objected, keeping her eyes peeled
Declaring love has always been a battlefield
And Cupid fired an arrow at Ero’s way
And **** led the limp arrow astray
Then those enlightened ones lit fuses that day
And the shrapnel from that fight still makes it way
Through hearts of men and women with feelings at play
When feelings fight nothing makes sense...and collateral damage collects like cents
I am from whimpering Willows
From hidden fields and the dark moonlight
I am in the words dripping like the dew of grass
(Glistening, bright in the morning sun)
I am from the veins of the creeks
The haunted shack
Which held foaming dogs
And kindly ghosts from the past.

I am from bleached walls and late night visits, the impatient inpatient
From those crème colored walls where Horae’s heart was my only solace
I am from the scream-filled rooms and the silent nights
From six feet under to lost in the clouds
I’m from the Father of None whose heart I knew so little about
And the chimeras that danced in the nighttime to a darkly song

I’m from slashed papers written in crimson
And the soft light of dawn
From the life, my grandfather stole
to the body in her casket, cold
Under my bed lay Eros, daunting, but just, all the same
And I kept my weapon upon my desk
armed with thoughts twirling through my anxious, little head

I am from the locked doors without keys
And from false loves and false visions
The delusions of the mind and of the heart
I am from the green shining jewels of Hope
From a childhood cut too short
And an adulthood which came too fast

Born to name which was not my own
A life I would never live
From the bright white buildings
A dry throat, blackened vision, a blackened eye and a bleeding heart
In this world, I exist
And in The Separate, I used to live
But all these sleep filled nights have made me sleepless
The fuzzy grains of static fill my ears, my mouth, and my eyes
Andrew Kerklaan Dec 2011
He descends the stairs of the porch on the house sleepily

.....He is calm

Realising his wires are tangled he quickly unbunches them...

The sidewalk clicks by unheard to his ears...

Houses... Dark pictures from which he sees images of people -- Looking out, watching TV, talking...
He hears the sound coming from inside his ears but it does not register to him.... He remains deep in thought....

click click click
The stones pass by unnoticed

click click


The criss-cross patterns on every single lawn...
Like an endless sea of unchanged, untouchable conformity he thinks to himself...

Reaching for the small chunk of metal in his pocket to turn up the noise and drown out his thoughts...  
What is it?  
He questions himself without answers....

With a fear of the unknown but completely unaware of what he should fear...  
He thinks quietly...

A building approaches... Bricks that are red like an African sunset... A prison... A place of hatred and sadness...

He stops, there is a man far away calling to him.....  
Ignorantly he continues without a second thought.

"****! An endless sea of it...." He speaks underneath his breath  
Black leather hangs around him in long sheets... As he walks it sways... This pleases him...

Such a hollow pleasure he thinks bitterly....  
What is purpose? is it merely the quest for meaning? or something more...

click click click  
......Darkness is now around him and a place to rest is close....

*click click....
One of my very first poems
Andrew Kerklaan Jun 2017
The darkness gives way to butterflies and repulsion breaths life into statues of dead dogs...    
These horrors must be kept.    
Though stitched eyes would bring no release to these lost soldiers    
A forest far away burns down and you scream my name    
Crying all the while, the mother's child dies    
Will I ever be free?    
A shadow looms through the window and you reach to the outstretched hand    
Will you take his word over the eyes in a painted room?    
Faceless words mutter silently in a meaningless language    
These premonitions so clear...    
Could I simply be slipping out of view once again?    
Lost in a dream about a dream    
Eyes flutter open    
The beating of wings of glass winds

A knife's edge will cut through the night and leave me in silence    
Quiet and alone, you will die!    
A wealth of burden all his own to eat    
Darkness gives way to the dawn and the butterflies take flight though the deliverance of daylight
This poem I wrote in 2011, it's one of the very first I ever wrote. I hope you enjoy it.
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