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Arcassin B Jun 2016
By Arcassin Burnham

Had A Basic Instinct for expressing,
Mortal feelings,
And being immortal is unappealing,
Wishing and hoping for a compelling love,
To gather all of my barrings,
Lips prints on my skin for some
Compassionate healing,
At make-out point,

On my hands and knees begging to the heavens
For a special kind of human being to set my heart
Up in flames,
The extra clingy kind of woman worthy enough,
And excellent at putting other woman to shame,
At make-out point,

So as I sit alone,
I see the moon is full like born again roses,
Only to look up again and see something crashing
Down like the hottest chunk of the sun,
I had to see this for myself,

At make-out point.
http://abpoefall.blogspot.com/2016/06/f-l-l-e-n-lp-deluxe-edition.html
Arcassin B Jun 2016
By Arcassin Burnham

Communicated with your mind once before,
It gave up,
Had enough with all the mishaves of getting stuck,
Never knowing how much beauty could impact,
you say i never lift a finger i resent that,
As your mortal boyfriend you will have no worries,
The state of worrying has packed up and moved,
Don't think about me too hard when I'm thinking
About you,
You saved me from an endless hell of problems
That could have made me or broken my spirit,
But you stayed.......

......And endured it,
You better hope my feet walks into you in
These trees,
I'm trying to relate to better view in these trees,
You better my feet don't walk into you,
We could share a course of new life in these trees.
http://abpoefall.blogspot.com/2016/06/playing-in-forest-features-on-lp-titled.html
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
“I have something for you to remember me by,” said Tim.

    He held a little foam Hippo – the lone play animal supplied by the loonybin to patients in need.

     It was brand new – just as every Hippo looked – and I wondered why he’d chosen something seemingly impersonal in comparison to his other, odd gifts.

     However, what he did next made his hippo – my hippo – absolutely ideal. To people like Tim and I, that is.

     For, to my astonishment, he casually took the toy in his hands, twisted, and ripped it cleanly  in two.

     He ripped off its head, which he gave to me, whilst he kept the body.

    I will never get rid of that mutilated, foam hippo head. For he understood what no one else had ever come near.

     In this way – perhaps – Tim and I became synonyms. Synonyms for what ignorant perceptions would later christen ******, or merely, crazy (the latter - coined by those who remain too depressingly colloquial to invent unfounded diagnoses).

     These epithets, catalyzed post personifying such societal taboos as Tim or I committed, follow me still, and have yet to disperse.
  
     A criticaster disaster, personified.

     Yes; in this way – Tim and I became synonymously insane.



Chapman University destroyed my life.

(Edited out(?): My failed death-wish, and subsequent involuntary hospitalization, would render malicious and ignorant individuals to alienate and shun my entire existence. My former allies, friends, and peers - those who had "loved" and "supported" me - would soon slander and sabotage me simply to maintain their own fabricated facades.
     Associating with someone who failed at suicide is a social deathwish, apparently; yet, if I'd succeeded, they'd lament and mourn their "loss.")

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
You were like a god,
Breathing kiss stained nebulas into my mouth,
Singing spinning galaxies into the air,
Running your star fingers through my hair.

You were like the sun,
Flaring nuclear anger now and then,
But I was your heavenly body and you were my light,
You were what once gave my happiness and life.

But I was like the moon,
Starstruck by the energy in your beams,
Heartbroken from the planets you picked over me,
Heartbroken because you rarely lit the whole of me.

I was like the moon,
I’m always trying to roam away from you,
But I can’t help circling my way back to you,
Despite knowing that in all you’re light,

There’s a blackhole waiting to bloom.
Jack Thompson Oct 2015
I've crawled off to die in a cowards shoe.
The culmination of my efforts.
A disheveled shape held together with glue.
What push do I have left?

When I've spent all I have.

My last quarter in the gum ball machine of life.
Looking around at all the others who've given up.
Is it my time? - considering the strife.

Uni projects really take it out of you...
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Sorrow Cain Sep 2015
[ ]
I'm writing these are a class project! Feel free to judge!

The starry night, filled with light,
Mother Nature at her height,
Wall of blaze, so scarlet bright,
None near escaping, no one might.

Flames rose, higher and higher,
Shrieks and screams, life so dire,
Then silent came, peace a liar,
For thousands died in the roaring fire.
-----------------------------------------------------------­
Distant clouds, go round and round,
Darkening silence, not a sound,
Imminent storm, clouds inter wound,
Vapour like wisps reach the ground.

Wisps tower. Clouds grouping,
Intense power. Motion stooping.
Energy soaring, Nature's violence
Winds roaring. Area timeless.

The cloudy sky, begins to cry,
Even as the clouds up high,
Begin to spiral, create an eye,
Come whooshing down, covering the light.

Swirling tempest, whirling storm,
The tornado begins to form,
Fierce gale, thundering gust,
Tearing houses, leaving husks.

The storm rages, no one can flee,
For winds spin faster, tear down trees,
Finally subsides, the clouds go free,
But the damage is done, too much to foresee.
Thomas M Franey Aug 2015
As I stood in front of critical eyes, I had to convey myself today.
In my mind, I have designed the whole system as requested,
in my eyes, I have emitted my internal confidence of myself,
But when on stage, I feel compelled to watch my words,
My words sometimes have a way to stray, searching for the best combination.
The fear is not within my abilities of my craft, but my ability to sell myself, as a representation of the system I momentarily created. The anxiety of proposing my logic mixed with the doubt of being over-pretentious became me.
      As I look into their eyes, I take a mental breath, and proposed my system within layers as suggested in my mind. I felt compelled, yet nervous to present my thoughts and ideas. I am confident, yet thoughtful of every instance that could make or break my deal.
     That said, believing in yourself and knowing your facts to prove your bases, is the key to the eyes of inception that we call cultural matching to the masses.
This is my current thought I had about the interview I had in which I was made to design and architect a project off top of my head to represent not only my technical skills but my interpersonal and planning skills as well.
Leal Knowone Jun 2015
The ability to project power,is truly
key to controlling our world
dream the impossible dream into reality
explode your being
will you ever realize the duality of man
it cant all be seen
caped in gold
Resurrection machine
a mirror in the sun
widing the horozions of man kind
Moks Sulayman Apr 2015
I don't remember yesterday,
I can't redo it today.
I don't see any big change,
I can't even recall my original age.

I kept thinking of the past
And I realized time moves fast.
All memories trapped in a glass,
A reflection of that past.

I have captured many moments.
People placed it in portraits.
I'll forever be your mini time machine,
Along with my partners, the films and the batteries.

Yours truly,
Camera
This poem was a project for our philosophy subject and i just knew about this on the d-day(submission day). We were task to make a poem about an object and i had to do this in only 3 minutes. I hope i did good.
12:19 AM

Sitting on my bed staring at my screen.

L o s t

Not only in my emotions but in a plethora of words and thoughts running through

M y

complex, depressed, and hopeless

M i n d

Sitting on my bed staring at my pathetic words on my pathetic screen

12:28 AM
i cant...
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