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Alin May 2015
I won’t ask you why
when my knowing knows
why  

beyond stories
I am
an extension
of
unfinished business

answers to
Q&A; s
precipitate
as mind bound realities
on mundane plane

while all stories remain
mutually exclusive
Cat Fiske May 2015
Things have been
changing, everyday, so its
no wonder, we didn't stay the same,
it's been years since we've been close, and
every time I just happen to run into you, you're
not the same person, who was that person then, you
have built bridges, that you have seem to cross, and
I just seem, to jump off, but the fact of the matter
is, you and I, have changed so much,
we're not the same anymore,
We have tried to
grow up,*
like a child,
stealing her
mother's red lipstick,
we are painted red, but
your red, is a red of beauty
and love, and mine is of blood,
lust and honest disgust, we
have chosen different paths,
and we walk circles
*in the woods,
trying to get to
the center of infinity as
if we can meet again, in the center
paths limbo of the happy end you walk & sad
one I walk, So when we meet in the center, and we
never cross paths, and never talk long enough to hear
each other's life stories, we just end up walking in
that never ending circle, and as we circle; life
hits us with things, some good; some
bad, but for 3.14% of the time
it's as simple as pi to
get through it.
Just a poem about change and how we don't see it on us but on others.
ahmo Apr 2015
Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

A
bone
slowly
woke
just
in
time
to
become
br­ok(en).
Once spoken,
there's no point
of lending an ear.
There'll be a violent
jerking of the wheel,
deceptive *** appeal,
and an unrequited (love).
Now, unwillingly,  it's open.
The rhyme is deliberately late,
but it's not tardy enough to satiate
Swelling lungs-we're just getting started.
Both for respiratory and broken-hearted.
Here, we speak of energy-specifically kinetic
Because you can't live in love and good faith
with right hemisphere real, and left prosthetic.
AND THAT'S WHERE THIS BEAUTIFULLY KICKS IN.
Picking up faster and quicker and clearer
and headlights have never come nearer.
But I'll be somewhat content lying at rest.
While lively and enthusiastic is best,
unemployed potential is all I can be.
It's something to unwillingly see.
You'll watch the clean breaks
as the marrow escapes.
As I steadily gush
onto pavement
you'll see
how
idle
I
can
really
be.
As
I

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.
Sydney Victoria Mar 2015
The River Ice Has Begun To Vanish,
Famished, It Yeilds To The Sun,
Piece By Piece Its Body
Succumbs To Ripened
Heat; Slowly It
Is Devoured By
The Current
Until It Is
Gone:
Time
Eats Away
At The Winter's
Impending Hold
On The River's Bubbling
Laughter; Sought After Due
To Its Delightful Chattering
Which Gurgles Peacefully Within The
Tender Summer Nights Beneath The Stars
Time.. What Are Your Thoughts On The Process?
Steele Feb 2015
I'm not in love...                                                    not even a little
  but                 I want                                        to be                       in
love so                    badly.                       My heart                    aches
to feel                                that kiss; that breath                       of life
   that                                 we poets call love in                     an awed
       whisper.                                                         ­                 But...
                Love
                    ­   refuses                                                          ­      The hole
                                to                          ­                                   in              my
                                   show                                                             ­  heart
                                            her face. So my heart                        is
                                 ­                has a hole in it.                              a
                                                                ­                                         Q
                                                               ­                                           u
                    ­                                                                 ­                      e
                                                               ­                                             s
                  ­                                                                 ­                          i
                                                               ­                                              o
                                                               ­                                                               
                                                                ­                                             n.

                                            Where are you, Love?
Bunny Dec 2014
I cannot eat and I cannot sleep anymore
because Your Great Love has been
knocking down my doors.
God, I am filthy, but you make me clean
You've had great plans for me
before I even became a little bean.
Growing up brings some bitter pains,
You wash it away with your healing rain.
My timid soul is thirsty and starving.
Shape me Lord, into your perfect carving.
Elizabeth Hynes Dec 2014
We pile them high
The slush taking shape
The sky made solid
In our hands.

Every one young or old
Likes to fabricate
The form

Armies would they be
If, like in cartoon,
They could attain conscious
Motion

But alas they are doomed
Like so many of us
To melt and evaporate
And return to whence they came

In the big melt
The sum's rays glinting
Fiery inferno
Causing gentle curving,

Maketh ice
Which forms puddles
Which give way
To earth.
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