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Dr Zik Mar 2015
When I close my eyes
I can’t ignore the inner dashing and transparent world
As all the objects are brightened
And illuminated from the core of heart
Which gets eternal light from you O’ my friend
Poetic T Dec 2014
Frozen time spirals,
Yearning touches now glazed,
Transparency hangs.
Icicles beautiful but also dangerous
Poetic T Dec 2014
Upon a snow flake a word is centre
Caught within an exhaled
Breath
Revealed a moment
Of winters tale,
Each now like glass semi transparent
Every breath reveals another
But soon to white they turn
A story
Lost,
Absent,
Hidden
From view, the little one
Ran, scarpered as fast as little legs can go,
Mother,
Father,
Sister,
&
Brother,
Wait child what is the rush,
"A winters tale"
"I breathed upon it"
But the moment faded, the word was lost
They went out side
As gentle flakes feel,
She breathed upon a single tear of snow
As before the word glistened,
"Do you see"
"Do you believe"
Astonishment,
Wonder,
Confusion
Mouths ajar at what eyes just seen,
As before the moment passed
Word had faded as lost
In the fresh linen of snow,
Each was ready,
Inhaled breath
Exhaled,
Words appeared, glistening within
Mothers word was
"The"
Father exhaled,
"Meaning"
My brother sneezed upon one
"Of"
Mandy
"Ate one"
Then realised, exhaled on passing ones,
"Christmas"
I waited, as many fell upon
My face, I exhaled
"Is"
But as we breathed none did change,
Is what, then
Goofy barked, dog breath greeted
Flakes
Falling
Slowly,
The word brought a smile to all,
"Family"
They were still upon the blanket of white,
Each picked the chosen flake,
It was glass, as if the word etched,
Upon the mantle piece each sat,
"The Meaning Of Christmas Is Family"
We all smiled at the winters tale,
We each exhaled a breath and a story was told..
MC Hammered Nov 2014
Lips say he's different
now.
Drunk eyes reveal no
change.

~

My knees did not
buckle
At your matured tastes in blues and
bourbon,

my heart did when you didn't
recognize
the gleam of your own
reflection.
Caitlyn Bruce Nov 2014
I am screaming and screaming and screaming.

But not with my voice.

With the way I fold into myself when you're around, because I don't want to say anything dumb. **** I don't even know what to say.

The way I put my walls up. Because I don't want you seeing me vulnerable because then you'd have power.

The way I don't even look at you because I don't want to be caught staring.

I am screaming out for your attention, except I'm sending the opposite signals.

Funny how that works, hmm?
Marlo Oct 2014
You expect me to dance when you stare,
But in fact I sit still as a rock and just stare back.
You think I'm completely silent.
In solitude.
But no,
I'm analyzing every curve
Of your face,
Every octave
In your judge mental tone.
Every fiber of your being that
Makes you who you are,
Wether I hate or love you.
I analyze you to see you as your emotions.
I see through your skin,
To me you're transparent.
I see what's inside,
And that should scare you to death,
Because it does me,
Fore I am transparent as well,
And if you really looked,
You'd see me quite easily.
. *** .
cr Aug 2014
when i grow up, i'd
like to be a ghost
i'm already invisible
to everyone
so i think i'm
halfway there
13blueberries Aug 2014
If you’re becoming a poet, you should think about it twice. Once you’re one, you’ll notice every single detail no one else does. You’ll notice the coldness in their eyes, and the way their lips move. You’ll notice the way they sway, and the exact color of their skin. You’ll see poetry in the living and in the death. You’ll feel straighter with a broken leg. You’ll see things everyone else is blinded to. And finally, everytime you get to see blood, you’ll remind yourself you’re alive. These are the reasons no one should ever become a poet.
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