you are my biggest delight
I freeze thinking of you
slipping deeper into this emotion
this sensation that ensnares all that I am

my soul burns with fire
this passion, this rawness, this earth like heartbeat
it’s a drum beating beneath my chest
as oceans roar within my veins

how can i forget you?
you were my biggest delight


you are my biggest regret
I freeze thinking of you
slipping deeper into this emotion
this sensation that ensnares all that I am

my soul burns with fire
this passion, this rawness, this earth like heartbeat
it’s a drum beating beneath my chest
as oceans roar within my veins

how can i forget you?
you were my biggest regret

Astraea 3d

These moments, so fleeting
Deep breaths that I can finally take
The peace, so rare
A time that I can quit thinking of what's at stake

This peace, seemingly imaginary
An illusion created in solitary
Yet the fire ignited, so fierce
A proof of a wonderful reality

I inch trembling fingers into the blaze
Flames licking my fingers, carressing each knuckle
Skin popping and blistering but yet
I defiantly hold the fire's gaze

This flame, had me create a belief
That many things are not what they seem
It may seem silent
But a furious war is blazing

Breaths caught in my throat
Air trying to crawl out from my lungs
A step back, another
In search of the peace, that melodious song

And night falls...
So we fall asleep, tenderly...
When the sun rises again...
...Those moments and flames await


What's your perspective?
Cate 3d

Uncomfortable white man
Looks at his watch.
Uncomfortable white man
Wants to scream at the kid
Up somewhere around row 6 or 7
To simmer down,
Stop crying.
We all feel like you.
Uncomfortable white man
Signals the attendant.
Uncomfortable white man
Is thirsty..wishes he bought a drink.
Uncomfortable white man
Doesn't want to pay six dollars for a vodka.
Uncomfortable white man could afford it.
Uncomfortable white man
Glancing at his watch again
Not allowing it the time
To click to the next analogue minute.
Uncomfortable white man shifts,
Uncomfortable white man
Crossed his arms,
Grasping his wrists.
Uncomfortable white man
Isn't accustomed
To being

written for the man next to me on the plane. April 21, 2017
Yanamari 4d

I want to scream
Scream at the top of my lungs
Scream out the emptiness within
To my heart's content
Until naught remains within

I want to express myself openly
Spread my arms out widely
Cry in grief shamelessly
Keeping my heart on my sleeve.

But having painted our souls
And having tainted our eyes
And faking our smiles
Never really hearing, except what we like
We distort normality
And limit morality
But with the tainted,
Painted perspectives we hold
Morality is always relative.

Religion builds walls

that keep us far from eachother

that keep us thinking that some

are right

and some

are wrong.

If any religion were right,

it would tell us to love eachother

regardless of religion,

regardless of colour,

regardless of culture,

regardless of money,

regardless of all the things

that we use as excuses

not to love eachother.

Have you ever loved a stranger?


Religion has built walls

that only one tool is capable of


The one tool I will spend the rest of my life

striving toward;


Written in 2017.
Bethany G. Blicq
Lori Apr 6

math is

concise. the length of curtains,
the precise measurements of
every room and furniture
pristine and aesthetically pleasing
interior designers are its wielders
mapping out functional spaces

art. fibonacci sequence and
the golden ratio. Da Vinci has
proven it and it's beauty more
glamorous than Louboutin or Gucci
explains why Angelina is très jolie

structure. burj khalifa in its entirety
exists on numerous calculations
while your house cradles you in
it's strong foundation. so every
nation is held together by numeration

prediction. the probabilities of how many
times he could have looked back and stared
graphing the increase and decrease of my
blood flow. logarithmic and exponential decay
of our space range as he crashes into my domain

dimension. mastered by Einstein but imaginary
numbers fill each corner of the cosmos. matrix
of 1s and 0s create our alternate screen reality
a whole other world, a black hole in your own
pocket universe manipulating time and space

human. an endeavor to understand and explore
the natural world. a universal language. but
the universe was not made to be grasped by
human capacity. so humans look for relation-
ships sail to seek exes and other unknowns

concise. art. structure. prediction. human.
still complete without his ex-

Day 6. Several ways of looking at things prompt today. Math and I got into a bit of a struggle today so, I needed to write this to help put things into perspective. There was so many times  I needed to just calm and breath to be able to focus and understand some things. Phew! What a long day. How was your day?

i'm a person that believes
that someday you will leave
and that your smile will be the death of me
for i know that we can never be
my heart shouts your name
but if we change we'll never be the same
again, here we are
i see you as nothing but a scar
from what we could've been
your hand lifting up my chin
leaning in for something
that would get my adrenaline pumping
but no, that'll never happen
your arms i'll never be wrapped in
you wouldn't show up at my door
telling me you're wanting us to be more
than friends.

your eyes told me secrets
they would kept me sleepless
it was a stare or a glance
that made me think i had a chance
besides, i was probably just another girl
one of thousands in your world
that is also hoping to call you mine
and here i am waiting for something like a sign
so that i would know when it is my time
my time for you to love me, your time to rhyme
your time to be head over heels for me
like how i am now for you, but you don't see
when it is our time to be together
i know you would hold me in the cold weather

But i need to stop with all this thinking
before my heart ends up sinking
all these what if's and could have beens
is where all the pain really begins
because it's you that keeps me overthinking
and my imagination that keeps me hoping
for something that is way beyond my reach
and it is you, within each.
I need to stop hoping
and maybe then i'd stop groaning
over a loss that wasn't completely mine .
soon i'll be laughing and i'll be fine
but for now i'll still be desiring
as long as you're still inspiring
but i know for sure there's nothing for us
and for this topic, there's no more to discuss

i can be quite a pessimist at times.

Love, such an exquisite word yet can be virulent
Full of mysteries and chaos, filled with lingering echoes.
Ushering one’s feelings and soul to be ambivalent and silent
Endearing too much can cause a lot of woes.

Our souls are engaged in the idea that love is our living fantasy
We believe that love, only love, could ease our pain
A never-ending contemplation about how love could bring us ecstasy
That explains how someone can drive you so insane.

Until it brings out the fragility of one’s façade
Drives you to an expected turn of deceitful lies and betrayal
Turns out it was just another charade a person had,
Never thought treachery could lead to something catastrophical.

But here’s a thing, we are all deceivers and believers
Of “Always and Forever”.

first attempt in writing poetry  :-)
Zan Balmore Mar 24

Taking medication may be fastening together the seams that could split. Between SSRI, HRT, and caffeine the moments speed, fleeting before I secure my grip. What's the point of living as a zombie losing opportunity through barely there fingers? I can be sexy for you, I'm fond of pleading on my knees, tongue over my teeth, waiting patiently for my mouthful -- but what's point? What would it solve to introduce a controlled study meltdown? Well, I see the seasons coming at first light. Spring and Fall pull balance apart. So pull apart, because these meds don't help when my mind conspires without me, but with the world. Leave me alone. I'm caught gazing at the canvas in the white on walls. If it appears I'm choking, I am. I choke myself to gasping near to death as a means to depart from my leaden regret. Do I grow wings? No. Do I ascend? No. Do I myself then deify? No. It takes endlessly repeated little deaths to prevent permanent disintegration in passion's cruel flame.

Son and daughter both will self destruct
Manas Mar 22

All that I think is mine,
All that I think is me,
is a summation of what I've been told,
of what I've been instructed to see.

'Who am I' is not the question.
The crisis is not one of identity.
Don't be misled, my friends.
The real illusion is this 'me'.

There is nothing new inside there.
Just scribbled notes and summaries.
A bunch of borrowed opinions
And some stolen memories.

I know I can talk and share today.
I can scream to make some noise.
But I hope by the day I die,
I'll have somehow, found my voice.

Next page