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Caitie May 2016
im not quite sure where all the time went
but i still remember every word you said.
everything you ever expected from me,
every thought you ever had about me.

ive got your beliefs on my mind.
am i everything you wanted??

i thought i was safe inside your heart,
i thought itd be easier to see the light of day.
oh but was i wrong thinking youd be my savior.

i remember all you ever taught me
but ill never remember the things you shouted at me.
i got really good at repression,
because all you ever preached was nothing i could believe.

i told myself a million times i wouldnt go
round and round again.
but i never stopped spinning, and i never got dizzy.

I framed myself for every wrong,
you never did any bad, and i never saw.
it was okay, all those words you said,
you burned into my mind, the worthlessness i held.
i came this far thinking i was less than enough,
i came into adulthood knowing my worth.
because you helped me figure out exactly how to fail.

i never had a life, you never gave me what i needed to succeed.
i never had what gave me the will to power on.
how dare i believe i had it good.
Ambika Jois May 2016
I wonder if you could tell me
What you saw in my eyes on day one
The day we met had a warm summer breeze
But what did you see under our setting sun?

I ponder until my sky has darkened
What you heard that you didn’t want to let go of
The night we sat in Aya with our eyes widened
But what did you hear through the music of love?

I squander my imagination out of reach
What you could’ve felt on our last embrace
Over the clouds, mourning mountains and seas
But what did you feel about the memories we couldn’t erase?

I surrender my thoughts and dream from yesteryear
What stopped us from erupting every single day?
Through our implosions, we’ve turned igneous and seared
But what good are we if we can’t make it through today?
I wonder, if the quiet and serene Aogashima were to break her silence from 1785 and throw her heat out, how would it appear?
This poem is based on one of my repressed emotions that I felt was connecting with the peaceful yet secretly building Aogashima.

For full intro, visit - https://ambikajois.wordpress.com/2016/04/27/aogashima/
Brent Kincaid Apr 2016
Bell bottom hip huggers
And my Frankenstein shoes
That had stack soles and heels
That I could only barely use.
A crop-top sleeveless tee shirt
With a superman emblem on it
And diamond ring on my hand.
In case I might have to pawn it.

Because we were picketing
Downtown at the City Hall
And at some police stations.
It was the seventies after all.
Our parents raised us to acquiesce
It was their America they protected.
And it was just exactly this blindness
That we, en masse, all rejected.

We failed to understand them
The generations that came before
That prized prejudice and bias
And celebrated sending us to war.
We felt there was another way
To go about sweeping social change.
We saw beating and fire hosing
As nefarious and more than strange.

We got beaten ourselves and jailed
For just pointing injustice out to them
And watched our sit-ins and love-ins
Turned into scenes of ****** mayhem.
We heard them call us all criminals,
Long haired ******* was a favored taunt.
It seems we were entitled to our opinions
As long as we didn’t chose to flaunt.

It felt so very much like **** Germany
Including storm troopers and jack boots
And the local politicians were obviously
At least agreeing if not in cahoots
With the police in their fear of rebellion
And protecting their good paying jobs.
So, they beat us and vilified the students
Calling them ***** communists, and slobs.

And, yes, some of us were getting high
Back in our homes and apartments.
Sometimes it seemed the only way
We could deal with the estrangement
Between what our country said it was
And what it turned out it really was.
It was hard to realize our land wasn’t free
And there was no social Santa Claus.
svdgrl Apr 2016
The whirr of the rush hour in the morning
and the lack of human sounds outside my door
reinforces that I'm alone.

It was a noise similar to my usual routine,
of quelling needy pangs of connection,
with what is always plugged in.

You had slept with me on this bed twice before
and you were unaware that on it,
I numbed myself quite frequently.

I reprimand myself to let go of expectations,
they have long become pipe dreams and idealism,
and would be foolish to follow still.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2016
Hush little baby
Stop crying now
Mama’s well trained
I will show you how.
Lock your feelings up inside
Don’t let them out until you’ve died.

Stop little baby
Don’t you feel!
Keep your soul
In a heart of steel.
Promise Mama that you won’t.
Love breaks everyone’s heart if you don’t.

Sleep little baby
That does the trick
Crying all day
Can make you sick.
Nobody like a kid who cries
No one will come to sing you lullabies.

Good little baby
Never says a word.
Quietest baby
I have ever heard.
No one would ever guess
That inside you are a mental mess.

Hush little baby
Stop crying now
Mama’s well trained
I will show you how.
Lock your feelings up inside
Don’t let them out until you’ve died.
Bria Grimm Nov 2015
When he kissed me, I thought he’d conquer the parts of him too much like his mother.
I thought he’d lose the pieces of militant voices inside his head on the curves of my hips.
I think he was trying to bury himself in me…
I know that I let him.
He punctuated every apology with the same melancholy mitigation.
Like a true addict, I told him that was enough.

It wasn’t.
It still isn’t
but I always miss him.
He helped  build my heart from scratch,
and I will always love him.
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