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H e a r t  
              reflective altar
P e a c e
                            supreme r e I g n s
Temple of God
                        quiet sit


rest
               less
                              ness

                       f
                          l
                            e
                              e
                                         s

silent  S O L i T u d E
                     new vibration
                                                    speaks

V O I C E
                     of
                                    VOID
{ Quest : “ We have set out on a quest for true humanity and somewhere on the distant horizon we can see the glittering prize”- Steve Biko }


EXISTENTIALISM

And there pigeon lay
blood dripping from feathers
glazed eyes wounded
a passerby filed passed
an angry little boy kicked
venting rage of a life
stuck in a township flat

The bird rolled forward
onto the railway line
its will to live extinguished
on its tiny Heart beat
pumping, pumping
half-living blood

Breathing silent it lay
eyelids opened in blazing Sun
chicks long past gone
seeking their own worms
in loamy fertile soil

Boy mocked with bright
conquering eyes
brown irises in wonder
at a dull dying will
tried to reach feeble body
with spidery fingers
dirt encrusted nails

Then ran off ~ repulsed
a woman died with moist
eyes, dripping blood

An unnecessary death
she walked home
questing her star
Bury my phone under the maple tree.
Do not unlock it.
Let the passwords rot my teeth.
Let the wind lift the dirt in small spirals above it
so anyone passing by feels the urge to walk faster.

Keep the bracelets.
Keep the letters in the wrong order.
Let my poems splinter across languages
until no one can tell what happened first.

They will plant my voice in the garden
and water it with salt,
never admitting they were the ones
who taught me to bite.
They will leave flowers at the door
and pretend they never nailed it shut.

They will drop my name in the brown-thick lake
and watch the fish stop swimming,
like an old car battery, or a dead dog,
and it will feel like both,
depending on the sun.

They will drag my words ashore, gut them for parts.
They will build a church from my mouth,
hang my jawbone above the altar,
and pray it never speaks again.
I will kneel with them,
smiling with my empty mouth.

They will say the work was too sharp,
the girl inside it dangerous,
and never admit they handed her the knife.
They will polish the handle,
wrap it in velvet,
and wonder why she carried it everywhere,
as if it wasn’t still dripping.
You're hardly there...
sketched, into the backdrop
of my convalescence,
in hematite brush strokes.
Not a flicker, of breath
warms the cold curve, of my cheek,
but I feel you cup it, anyway.

My own hand,
bloodless, bleached
collapses, in pain.
Fatigued, it creeps,
across the coverlet
in a wraithlike half dose,
to seek you, sleepily
and pull you, across the void.
To capture you, by the mouth,
and bring you, like a magnet,
into another dimension.
Lips, press down, as if stitched;

the Cupid's bow,
folds itself, into the lower lip,
and sutures shut.
It forms a thin veil, of suppression,
and secrets.

Stay with me...
stay with me, a while...
stay with me, until I fall

...a...

...sleep, overtakes me.
I'm too weak, to wrestle with it,
and sink, below its dusky tides.
Darkly, they swallow me.
I float, in an indigestible stupor;

caustic waves, ripping away
at whatever remains,
of me:
half-consumed,
in the raging belly,
of the beast.

Still... the melted glaciers, of my eyes
seek you, above the insouciant turn,
of melancholy tides.

I wish to tangle myself,
all around you
to knot about you, composed,
comprised, in looping ties
like ropes... that only bite,
into the fruit, of your skin
if you draw me around you, tightly.  

And though, there's naught,
but an echo, of you,
above the seismic waves,
of pain

That same thought, rises
A shallow cry,
but it rips, through my soul
with the sudden release
of an arrow, leaving
the taut, aching pull,
of its bowstring.

Stay with me...

stay with me, til night, falls...
hold me, til the dawn, breaks...
love me,til our worlds,
collapse...

and, stay......
stay with me.
Mark Wanless Aug 2
to see out corner
of eye more accurate
extrapolate
Over sticks, and stones...
no broken bones ...
only thick bands ringing
neck, and throat.

I floated onward, anyway:
my fainted,
fading body, splayed;
swathed, and rolled,
in a jacket shroud,

as gently, as...a paper wave.
Yet, onward, pulled,
on grasses, loud,

As softly, as
...a blackened cloud.
Bit of nostalgia, here. Contemplating the time I was jumped from behind and nearly choked to death, with my own hooded coat.

He dragged me, unconscious, the entire length of the schoolyard playground, and left me unconscious, at the foot of the slide.

...I imagine my thick, winter jacket made quite the ruckus.

When asked about it, later, he said I have a "big ******* mouth", and he was determined to "shut it for me".

To this day, I have no idea, what set him off.

...I never did learn, how to do that, so, naturally, it was the first of many such experiences. Lol

...I have clawed, and fought, until ******, for my right, to my own voice, my entire life.
Hello Daisies Jul 31
I woke up today feeling brand new
Seven years of hell
That you put me through
Today marks that day
Today i am new
No longer cursed by you

Today i would usually wake up
Feeling your hands on my skin
Behind my back
Like a heart attack
The torture
The fear
The guilt
The tears

This time
I'm new
This time I'm over you
My cells have changed
I am not the same
I'm stronger now
I'm no longer lost
But found

I'll never hit the ground
Screaming your name again
I'll still feel the pain
Behind my brain
Never in my skin
Never in my bed
You,
                          I have shed
Forever you are dead
And I am free
I can feel it in my body~
They say after seven years your cells have changed so that man never touched my body now. I am free
Mark Wanless Jul 28
i saw a turtle
on a fence post why did i
put it there again
Mark Wanless Jul 23
the echoes of memorie
written in crayon
are forever beautiful
Monika Jul 28
Isn’t it wild, how the universe misaligns?
Creating distance through time by drawing lines.
You were here before my first breath began,
I’ll spend my years chasing where you stand.

Oh, if I could rewrite the stars’ decree,
I’d cast myself into your century.
A sister, a confidant, your equal in time—
Not just your child, but a partner in rhyme.

We’d share the rhythm of life’s steady tune,
Matching footsteps beneath the same moon.
Not mother and daughter with years to compare,
But living as equals, the same life to share.

But this isn’t our story; this isn’t our fate—
Time separated us, made me too late.
You live in a past I can only trace,
Through your wisdom and the lines on your face.

I'll learn about you by trying to guess,
Closer in age, maybe then you’d confess,
That you’d borrowed my strength more times than I knew—
And in return, I’d say I learned how to be strong from you.

You age like fine wine, your spirit refined,
Each year adds layers, a shine so divine.
But my heart aches with a bittersweet pain,
Knowing we’ll never age the same.

For every year that makes you glow brighter,
The space between us becomes a bit wider.
And though time keeps pulling us apart,
You’ll always remain timeless in my heart.
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