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Dylan Mcconnell Apr 2019
Yesterday
Yesterday I was suspended and now I don’t know my left from my right
My left is emotional
And my right is emotional
My left represents anger and resentment
My right represents suicidality and sadness
There is no middle.
There is no grey
There is no “This too shall pass”

I could be expelled for hitting a kid, due to the fact it’s my 3rd fight in a year and two months
I could be expelled because I am on contract.
I could be expelled due to the fact it’s a tiny school. Only 60 kids, and 35 on a regular basis.
I got suspended yesterday and now I am lost.
Pagan Paul Jan 2019
.
Dust hangs in the still air,
caught by a shaft of light,
shiny sprinkles float serene,
in space a string-less kite.

A particle catches the eye,
playing tai-chi within a ray,
the stationary free dance
of a mote at indulgent play.




© Pagan Paul (25/12/18)
.
Ferns Jul 2018
The pile of books
The array of papers
They long-await
that ink will pour
on their vacuous
void of emptiness
For the deadline
draws near
Yet I'm still here
Sitting on my windowsill
Lackadaisically waiting
Certainly expecting
For water to descend
From the firmament
surrounded by dullness
where a mass of clouds
are there to be seen
Suspension
is what holds tight
the more than 250,000 miles of dry
-laid stone wall
that runs timelessly
throughout New England—
they are the life-
preserving veins,
The oxygen we breathe,
each stone is set
one over two,
two over one.
the compassion of one compels
The physics of two.
DarbyCorliss Dec 2017
The boy smiled
The girl flinches
As if the smile would disappear
She crossed
Fearing the bridge would collapse
She hesitated

...Took a breathe

Then looked again...

He disappeared
She lingered
Am I doing this right? First timer here~
I have a heart
That in my chest
Beats like a madman
’Gainst the bars
Of the gaol cell
That keeps it
Like a bird encaged
From its mate

I wear a heart
Right on my sleeve
That beats towards you
Like a bird
That’s driven south
When winter calls
And knows no
Other destination
Inspired by the excessive use of the word and metaphor ‘bird’ by Lisa Hannigan in her songs. Thanks, Lisa.
I ponder the question
Of why might he
Be trying to gain my friendship
Nothing in this world is free
I accept and I thank
Though I keep up my gaurd
I accept and I thank
Though not fooled by their charm
A wee bit suspicious about someone
Emily Oquendo Nov 2014
I dream of freedom but it cannot find me even though I shout
that I am here and though I fear the feelings and my doubt
sometimes it's pure agony
Lila Jun 2014
Steam wafts to her nose.
Lost, she waits and stares in the vague ;
A clock ticks on the wall : she's aging.
Does she even notice ?
Steam contorts from the cup in mystical currents,
Fades away at once, yet is livelier than she.
Tomorrow will die for sure, but how many more ?
She is a tired woman ; even she stopped caring,
But somewhere in the mist she sees, lies a form of solace.

— The End —