I don't want to think about it...
Falling in and out.
I have a lot of love for you
I don't want it to burn out.

I never want to forget
the feelings you've made me feel.
The way I can't stop smiling
when you're done laughing
or squeezing my hand...

How I feel as you kiss me
or when you're just sitting nearby...
I don't want to stop feeing warm and bubbly
the thought makes me want to hide.

Data Apr 18

I have girdled myself with illusions
and carved in stone
I have painted statues faux-colour
—colours called equity and justice,
and I have knelt before these in prayer
and imagined that my delusions serve purpose
in an existence of pure circumstance.

I have raised myself up from forest floor
I have set stairs in stone that I may climb higher
and look down upon a subjugated land
bereft of impediment or confrontation.
I find you in the corner shivering, naked on the floor
whispering as a disquiet ghost…
I examine your desire
to drag me down…

I have heard gestapo on the stairs
and listened to their interrogation,
And it is true, after the second shot
we capitulated
and joined the throng who jostled
in the crowd below

( they dragged us down from our first-floor view )

Out on the plaza
where Socrates lectured Plato,
they have set the gallows high
and we, far too willingly,
walk forward, still protesting innocence
and proclaiming liberty
in foreign lands.

_________________


by Data © 2017

the thin skin of democracy
The Lonely Bard Apr 17

That's why I walked right into her
While I knew she would change
Because change is so natural
She just stepped in my life
And pupate out one fine day
But she will not come back here
Whatever that was thought or said!

For she is just another butterfly,
And I'm not looking for insects.

My HP Poem #1508
©Atul Kaushal
Connor Jordan Apr 16

Don’t look at them
They might know
No one can know
Keep walking down the hall
Its better this way

Don’t raise your hand
Someone might hear you
Your voice is too high
Remain still, don’t move
That whisper in your head knows better

Don’t join that team
Someone like you doesn’t belong there
Those lockeroom walls talk
And they will make you scream

Don’t talk anymore
Everyone will find out
Disappear and you will be safe
Stay low, keep yourself buried

But this weight is heavy
And this whisper doesn’t care

So let’s go home little whisper
Anywhere alone is good
Because it’s better this way, right?

Robert Zheng Apr 14

what
does it mean to be
a bad, bad person?
a no good scum of the earth bottom of the barrel objectively awful wretched poor excuse of a person with not a vestige of humanity in them (not even a little bit)?

mom says its when
i dont brush my teeth.
i dont brush my teeth.

girlfriend says its when
we're both at a cafe studying and she draws something on my to-go paper coffee cup when i'm in the bathroom and i don't even notice when i return sit down and take a sip.
we're both at a cafe studying and she draws something on my to-go paper coffee cup when i'm in the bathroom and i don't even notice when i return sit down and take a sip.

friend says its when
i don't put myself in the same pickle.
i don't put myself in the same pickle.

law says its when
i killed them all.
i killed them all.

but what about god?
Anthropos Apr 11

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2Kyl0HP1T0

Mood music for Mr. York
Lori Apr 8

He wouldn't leave.

His voice walked in first, so young and innocent.
His body jumped in flabby, gigantic and inexperienced.
His whims slur out of his mouth, dazzling his audience.
His face slumps in, eyes are sunk in and his clothes pile in.
His presence is an overwhelming curse as he talks his way in.

He wouldn't leave.

He does not know the stories trapped in the house he entered.
He does not know the trust issues and two faced cruel people.
He does not know the suffering and sacrifice of accommodation.
He does not know the anxiety and all the pleading to God.
He does not know the tensions he's aggravating and resurfacing.

He wouldn't leave.

He has a right to know of the tears he's caused for two days.
He has a right to know that he's fish bait and they're all desperate.
He has a right to know that we are liars just running a show.
He has a right to know that I hate him and he shouldn't be here.
He has a right to know his place in my house, he doesn't belong.

He wouldn't leave?!
I'm warning you, He better leave.

Day 8 with repetition prompt. Yesterday's was so hard that this one feels like an easy familiar one. Or maybe I was overthinking how to do the prompt from yesterday. I will definitely re-do it. Still awesome to try something new though. This one here is pretty straightforward. Thanks for reading!

Half-past five
When you told me to leave
Into the snow-drenched pines

Keep the tombs
And whatever's inside
We slept in separate rooms

For eighty nights
Wrapped in Memphis Blues
Blood in my open eyes

I threw up wine
In the noxious scented smoke
Of your candle, dying

Mood swing riding
Injured by your distance
And the silence rising

My exit wound
Means fuck all to me now
I was as cold as that afternoon

Zan Balmore Apr 1

Wave to your boy, he's fading fast.
Sickness incarnate, not meant to last.
In the evening sprinkle, under dying skies,
he's sailing his paper boat into unknown
waters.
Wave to your boy as he departs.
There was no self love, ever.
Ever.
It's when the herb hits me hard I
knew masculine was never meant.
Never.

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