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Mark Parker Aug 2015
Fire sleeps within all 
the brightness makes the darkest shadows seem small 
can you feel the embers burning? 
and what will fan the flame? 
  
Embers rise high with a gust 
dancing ashes pays tribute to beauty 
of fire purifying all it will touch 
as if fulfilling natural duty. 
  
The longer it goes, the flames go higher 
and that feeling of madness, lust, and desire 
brings us to where we are, 
the kindling point of star-fire.
I used to like to work with a theme. One of my first poems.
a Jul 2015
A helix to the perfect degree,
An answer to the mathematician's plea,
An x for when  y was in need,
Swirling logic - majestic and infinite
Whilst 90°.
An ode to my maths revision
Poppy Perry Jun 2015
Falling*

sprawled and appalling
on my face,
drooling disgrace, galling

Falling

in love and above, tall in
a flood of enough
smoothening rough, or mauling

Falling

down a dire spiral calling
tired warnings
fired down and bawling

Falling

on deaf ears boring when sure in
death near and above all, or fawning


Falling

in line and recalling
confines and rules in forming
Decisions, once and for all


Falling

The wayside supporting
weight and tired eyes, squalling


*But the feeling of falling is deceiving when believing that the subject moves around the ground
Which is dawning the befallen
When in feeling fallen I feel more than
I am moving but that the world has proven
That I am stuck while it rushes up
And I cannot catch up or take much
Protection from the projected connection
Of the rocky bottom on my rocked cheek
The breath inside me left to hide in a better guest
For life's essential and potentials
Falling to me is not easy humiliation, or needy contemplation,
Only lungs devoid from the impact deployed
And the same dirt, on my tongue and gums, curt
My eyes, unhurt, can never avoid
the clay watched with rented breath
the red robe genuflect before
the dirt-dark nailed wood.

strange words were uttered
choral echoes flew
they too would bend their knees
those veiled long hair
those oval faces with scanning eyes.

the red robe spoke
they moved the corners of their mouths
till they were too far
they nodded, and nodded, and nodded
they did not know how to stop.
the red robe did not speak
he read from two slabs.

the air cracked by a
tip-toe cadence of metallic muttering
they held their breath
but there was panting.

with one unseen flicker
that stole as fast as
light shot from up beyond
there
perched on that dirt-dark nailed wood
a dove of light of blinding vaporous whiteness.

we hid our eyes.
our faces too.

we only saw a tall slender spiral staircase
that ascended a long, long,
long way.
Meg Howell Jan 2015
I'm falling down the spiral staircase of loneliness
you could say
I'm heading into a downwards spiral
Jay Cee Shay Dec 2014
This is where I sat, beside you on the bedside.
Looking from here, everything seems to be right.
We laughed, danced and chatted all night.
Taking pictures together, we try to project happiness in our minds.

Bright environment and happy faces.
The weirdest gestures and silly comments.
Those memories that seems to happen just yesterday,
We were merry and all of a sudden, it all goes away.

Laughing, singing then conversing.
Just one funny argument is what's needed to ruin the the whole thing.
Just a remark that's not well thought of is what's left.
An act of unlovingness is what comes next.

We fight, scream and throw things together.
This bond we share is what we called "disgust for each other."
Compromising, forgiving and forgetting the act of another.
That's what we do whenever we fight with one another.


Give it a day, a week, a month or two.
And I'll be finding myself bonding again with you.
The process repeats itself and it's never ending.
We must have miss something from the beginning.

Try, try, try and try, we must.
We'll change, change and change, once more.
Nothing's really happening, my love.
Should we give up trying now?

The change did not made us any wiser.
And the efforts we've put to this thing is what fires up the urge to let go of each other.
Standing from my point of view, a cliff is what awaits us, two.
So we'll try and change again till we're somebody new.

This, us, is going nowhere.
We, on the other hand, should start to focus elsewhere.
We should stop trying now...
We'll just be spinning around and around, not going anywhere.

Compromising, forgiving and forgetting.

Let's just compromise and agree that we're both right.
Forgive each other and ourselves for trying and not being enough, all right?
Forget all that has happened including us and our story.
Take baby steps towards moving on and away from immaturity.

"First, we have to move away from each other, honey.
*I don't know if we could ever be...
lest be willing, again, to consider that possibility."
Blue Sweater Oct 2014
Downward spirals
Inward explosions
Outward, onward, forward
That's what you tell yourself
There's a way out of the labyrinth
The walls will crumble
And I'll be free.
Lani Foronda Aug 2014
Slowly
I
Am
Falling.

Quietly
I
Am
Sinking.

&
I
Am
Spiraling.

Spiraling
Towards
A
Place
I
Don't
Want
To
Be.
April 02, 2013
Alex Mic Jul 2014
A fresh starts awaits.
But how is it fresh when she keeps slipping back to her old ways?
Promiscuity is nearing,
With open arms and a sly smile.

Seeking comfort in strangers' beds,
Reaching over for the unlit cigarettes
That will soothe her. She stares into nothingness and takes a drag,
Serenely happy - for a change.
She looks across and smiles
At the defined, naked body lying beside her
Calling her "bae" and "***" instead of "baby" and "honey".

Why does he call her that? Why is there no effort?

Why do they ask if she spits or swallows,
Instead of if she sings or dances?
Why do they kiss her neck,
Instead of kiss her hand?
Why do they take her to dark parks and alleys,
Instead of restaurants and malls?

And if she cries at nights when she's alone,
If she feels easy and used and of no worth

Why does she let them?
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