Tsunami 4d

Did I tell you that my lungs burned the first time you told me you didn’t love me?
It was like my first taste of a cigarette,
Except your words never left me any kind of head rush.
My blood was replaced with liquid gold,
When I first yelled “Fuck You” at the top of my lungs.
My veins encased with silver with every step I took.

The boiling point of gold and silver are both well over two thousand degrees celsius.
I swear that night I blistered out of my own skin,
Cauterized my own heart,
To never feel the pain of something so deep.

My hands were scorched with how much time I had spent,
Attending to your needs and pushing my own away.
My eyes begged for relief.
Every inch of skin you had ever touched continued to ignite long after you’d left.

And so in a final desperate attempt,
I say farewell,
To what we once had.
This is my goodbye,
The letting go of all my charred remains.

Lewis Mundt wrote about how people were made of 72.8% water,
To this day I believe,
I was 72.8% lava the night we said we’d never be.

i wrote this when i broke up with my first boyfriend at the tender age of 15

Plain is her own sea
Under the shameless moon' silver
Wanna hear the moon' heart
Rather than drown into the integerity
of the plain

Akash Mandal Dec 2017

today I'll be okay
all looks golden
all looks gay
today I'll speak
nothing black
nothing bleak
today I'll rise
above the grey
above the wise
today I'll brew
something dark
something true
today I'll cheat
on bland greens
on bland meat
today I'll wear
anything white
anything debonair
today I'll stop
craving things in amber
craving things I pop
today I'll call
my lover marooned
my lover in fall
today I'll turn Cupid
tickle them pink
tickle them stupid
today I'll play and sing
vintage Blues
vintage Swing
today I'll paint
the town red
the town acquaint
today I'll search the sky
for my share of silver
for my space to fly
today I'll not sail
under false colours
under a false veil
today I'll not be
a clockwork orange
today I'll break free.

Xaviera Allan Dec 2017

I have a heart of silver-
not precious enough to be gold
not strong enough to be bronze or iron
not useful enough to be copper
not hard enough to be steel or stone

My heart is soft- decorative- maybe pretty-
and often mistaken for similar things
My heart kills something that never existed

Does it trust easily-            hide-
lock itself in-

or lock itself out?

Salmabanu Hatim Nov 2017

Jack and Jill,
Went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water,
Nobody knows what they did up there,
They came back with a baby daughter.
They named the daughter Mary.
Mary had chubby cheeks,
Dimple chin,no teeth within,
Rosy lips,
Curly hair, very fair,
Eyes were blue,lovely too.
One day Mary went to play on the slide,
Georgie Porgi pudding and a pie,
Kissed Mary and made her cry,
When Jack and Jill came out to see Mary play,
Georgie Porgi ran away.
Mary had a friend called Johny,
He was handsome and Bonny,
Mary Mary,
Yes papa,
Loving Johnny,
No papa,
Open your heart,
Ha! Ha! Ha!.
But, Johnny said,
"Lavenders blue,Mary, Mary,
Lavenders green,
When I am King Mary, Mary,
You shall be  queen."
Papa Jack and mama Jill asked,
Mary ,Mary quite contrary,
We have a querry,
How does your heart grow,
With wedding bells and many heart throbs,
Not now, Mary  sobs.
One day, Johnny proposed,
Mary, Mary,
I'm crazy,
All for the love of you.
It won't be a stylish wedding,
I can't afford a Lamborghini,
But, if a stylish scooter for two,
Will do.
Soon, Mary had a little boy, a little boy,
It's skin was white as snow
It followed her to work one day,
He made her friends laugh and say, laugh and say,
"Mary, what a bonny lass you have.

I love to play with my grandchildren and made up this nursery rhyme poem for them.
Alice Wilde Nov 2017

Everything is imperfect-
The space
Between your eyes.
The crooked white
Inside your half-smile.
The choppy,
Paper-cutting scissor bangs
That frame your face.

You chopped them late
In a dim lit bathroom.
Flickering neon against the blade.

Tucking tounge under breath,
Chunks of midnight strands
Refracting grey-silver dreams
Fell to the floor like splinters
Hurled from breaking wood.

With crescent moons
Formed on each cheek,
The mirror smiled.

nim Oct 2017

If we're always
Running, what
Will we become?


If you're lost in a
Deep, gray forest,
Foggy and misty
Where will you go?


Well, call the forest
My heart, the fog
Everything I used to feel
And the mist may be
The traces of my heart,
Leftover. Alone. Faded.


Announce the bird on the branch
Everything I call home;
My body's pointing to the
Mysterious creature
Calling - sanity.
Will you come back?


I had fallen to my knees

Everything is beyond saving

With my blurry vision, I follow
With silver traces in my eyes
How a new path awakens
But it shuts the other ones down.


    You can't have what you want.
    You can't know how you feel.

You are  stuck   h e r e . 

Diary of Jane Oct 2017

This too shall pass
You have just got to hang on
and get through this.
No matter how hard it rains today
The years of sun will come again.
Even if it feels like it won't stop,
That the rain will drown the whole world
The sun will come out
And you will be fine
You will be okay
Even if you cannot imagine that right now
Because of all the dark spells in your life,
Just believe that, okay?

Emerald Sep 2017

prey characteristic armaments
you're possessing mercantile predictability
as I lay in rose petaled bath water where records of
jazz tunes and the smell of chai lighten
charcoal compasses  
considerable yet restrained
to concomitant natural surge, my tongue
stepping away from fantasy land "steaming coffee in one of
you're comfy sweaters"
oh how much you love and love and love
but he was Zeus and I was withered into
ruinous systematic willingness
just how a loose hinge forbade reflect off my
red gold lingerie now rarely I step inside
caressing my own curves,
fathom pomegranate taste although
the stability I show is all a
little lie


- G

move on my fragile glass heart
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