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K Balachandran Nov 2014
A vision, in a flash told him about her ultimate mission,
that's the best of gifts, for anyone that walks on this planet.
When you are here, only for a short while, find out the one thing
some one special wants to fulfill, then, help accomplish it,all out.

No need even to ask what makes the passion to them, so intense,
see the sense of purpose, the grace; swiftly they move towards the goal,
every being roaming here, has a mission kept coded at the core,
as for her, she is the " ambassador of love" from the cosmic  effulgence.
Supine Plath Oct 2014
These copper wires that hang from my head,
heat up so quickly, my mind is so sickly.
Can't be cooled until you've poured water over of my head,
that leaves me drenched only to be dried up again.
This slight evaporation. Oh what this head has done to me.
Marlon James Apr 2014
I'm afraid.
I'm a daylight dreamer.
Everything scares me.
Everything is so ******* intense.

I wish i was more like a stone.
I'm always alert

The silence is claustrophobic
I see everything with four eyes
The ones in my face and the ones in my chest
I'm sensitive

But i got to pretend i'm not.
People think i'm the exponent of manly.
Classify me as "cold".
But i cry, alone

I melt the ice
into tears and trade them for my fears.
Just because i'm big
It doesn't mean i'm strong
Marlon James, Porto, portugal                                            29-04-2014
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
Not an amulet, an off white vertebrae; bone.
Brass wire, a loop at one end.
It bends as to make sure this will fit.

A gauge that measures mesmerization,
And we both must get along, but
Not because we're not tough enough:
Most of us aren't soft right yet.

So many stiffs, folly after folly.
The whole carful of loose cadavers,
Dangling, their feet hang with wet snow
And carnage,

Not even musk deer pop up,
They've all gone. Roosting in a parabol,
With X's sprayed to their groins.
Burning pop couples

Doing it like laboratory mice. Capybaras
Hiss, my own burnt blood is also
Flocculating.

Turn the cup upside down and
See the fire's balmy lachrymal opaque
Moss while it does not drip.

This is the story of man you asked me about;
Devoid of a muzzle, fur onto his chest; coarse
Hair in a garland.

It is the God of a tool that buzzes into the night.
A plateau for this most sensible study.
We feel another coming.

And when you awoke, your larval tongue
My eye mush, a song of verse and melancholy.
This half list of greatness, a tally we both wish to see.

— The End —