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Hannah Zedaker Jan 2018
Anxiety is a cold, lilac purple.
It sounds like a care siren going off on a brisk September morning
It tastes like orange peels from yesterday's lunch
It smells like burning rubber
Anxiety feels like motion sickness from being trapped under impeding waves, with you hands tied to a post
Hannah Zedaker Jan 2018
Infatuation is transparent red.
It sounds like the quickened pace of a fox in the forest
It tastes like metallic blood pumping in the back of your throat
It smells like three week old lilacs
Infatuation feels like burrs stuck in the sleeves of your tattered wool sweater.
Quinn Jan 2018
When sands grind me bare
and my world's gears stop turning,
I look to the wind

and wait for the sky.
for the sun to rage off of
my range of vision

until stars come out,
instead of looking at feet
I fix to the sky.

my star stares me straight
directly in my third eye
'sit still my son please

I've sat here for years
let me tell you a story
of Earth at its start.

the planet's alive,
a lot like you can't you see,
from fire and storms

mass extinction, death
out of, the earth came to be.
Earth was weak until

she spun her core so
tightly and quickly the wind
came alive. With that

planet earth found a  
cure for her fire. She found
beauty in balance,

constructed karma,
founded shifting sands of time,
dynamically brought

concepts of good and
evil to war with each other.
Positioned herself

in her suitable
orbit. Just follow the earth,
sit down, tame the fire.

Spin your existence
like her, and maybe you'll see
there's no need for breath

when wind fills your lungs.
Find your own balance within,
fight your own battle

learn desire serves
to feed flames, continue pain
life makes suffering.

Don't lose this battle
or your forces might make you
stay the same person.

If after you find
yourself trapped up on the moon,
don't fear traveler.

Fleeing far from home
you have started your journey!
One day you may find

Your own heaven place,
a perfect spot just to watch
the cosmos below.

And a star like me,
one day you're destined to be.
transcend all your pain

until we same speak.'
That's why I look to the stars,
through unsurety

I will keep swimming.
Knowing one day full well, I
belong in the sky.
There's no need for breath when the wind fills your lungs -- each stanza is a haiku
Gabe Ouellette Jan 2018
This write, has me looking for more topics,
I feel the box, stuck in, inside wrong lines,
Wrong lines, right lines, why must I try to fit,
It is not fine, I am all out of time...

Words and words to make me feel so crazy,
I keep on the grind to get an idea,
Do I not get this or am I lazy?
Building this dumb poem, is this ikea?

Poems have some meter but this is top,
keys to the board, pen to this **** paper,
Trying to write just makes me want to stop,
but soon I will need an undertaker,

For if truly I must, prevail I will,
This dumb poem pattern has now been filled.
Kinda hate using this much structure in a poem
empire ants Jan 2018
The way everything else does.
Everything has a foundation,
A solid block to stand on.

Songs need a perfect string of syllables,
And a cool, catchy tune.
A book needs character arcs
And a story that can make one swoon.

But a poem chooses what it does,
What it says and how it says it,

w e c a n s p a c e o u t t h e l e t t e r s
OR TYPE IN ALL CAPS.

i                            to                                          of
  am       limited          the                     lines         the
      not                                  implied                                page

and i dont rlly have to use proper grammer, nessisarily,

Because as long as a poem gets across its message,
The "why" of it all,
Well, that's a good poem in MY book,
My book of feelings nailed in the wall.
g Dec 2017
dear you,
i’m writing this
to ask you
to plead you
to beg you,

please stay with me
for one last time
before it all
comes to an end.

i look forward
to your prompt reply.
regards,
me.
structures are good, things that don't change are good.
Contoured Dec 2017
-
                   R
                   E
                   C
D                O
E                 N
S                  S
T                 T                
R     ­            R                    
U                U                
C                 C          ­      
           T
           I
           O
           N

           I
           S


I
           N 
           E      
V                 C      
I                   E
T                  S
A                 S
B                 A
L                 R
E                 Y
                      -
Zero Nine Oct 2017
Sweet TV
You & Me
Got a date
We touch
I learn

Whose
lives
mean
most

Which
truth
sounds
most

like
the
world
I
want
around
me

These shoes barely fit, but look fantastic
The uncanny caricatures sure seem to be
the ends to my meager means

These drive-thru aspirations taste like ****
I am born nuclear, and I am lightning fast
without self-assessment

Why would I ask?
Why would I want
to be stripped of speed
in a place that wants me
on the floor, dead or poorly
resourced to save the handful
of golden few, who sit in thrones
stitched in skin and filled with blood
at the spine of the world, watching while
me, my family, my friends and the neighborhood
burn up in linen and cotton tattooed with American green

-- I want above, to look down from the top.
**** everyone else.
i was born in a pair value village sweat pants
this is for everyone else born in a trailer, born in a project,
born into a broken family, born with preternatural traits in
a society of judges, keepers, and enforcers.

we're not each others' enemies.
we're the foundation.

and who cares who kills who when Elon Musk
will save you from Earth, and take you to space?
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