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Thomas Mackie Jan 2019
We stomp and we romp
with our filthy, bare feet
we jump and we bump
in the high summer heat.

Just skin, nails, and teeth
stop when we see blood
we are the ***** girls
rolling around in the mud.

We're queer, we drink beer
in the park in the dark
we yawp, twist, and shout
and we jeer and we bark.

We **** for the thrill
in the sweet with sweat season;
we say it's revenge,
but we don't need a reason.

Saturated plum flesh
bursting between jaws,
we are boundless, we are seeping,
we are love without laws.
Dear straight people,
It is a common believe that queers are docile, non-threatening, non- violent, and weak. That being queer is a choice to attract others. This is a poem to remind you that we are as natural as the sun, we are everywhere, and that we are not afraid to smash your brains in with a brick.
Sincerely,
Author
Elysia Jan 2019
Columns drafted in pearl and eggshell,
Green vineyard draped over each one
Cautiously, meticulously decorated
By the dancing trees grown so tall above

Pure, clear water spurted out
Rivulets across Athena's strands of hair
Into her ivory *** she bears
The goddess smiles as the stream flows

Out the ***, it gushes through,
Towards a gentle pond
Becomes a lake
Then an ocean

Vast beyond imagination,
Where the goddess drinks
From her honey-gold chalice
Cupped neatly in her hands

Trickling down her chin
She gazes upon the reflection of a hundred souls
Dancing and prancing inside the water
Bumbling happiness and eternal bliss

A cascade of flowers bloom as the sun rises,
She waves her hand over the water
Glancing down, she whispers so dearly:
"Be patient, my child. All will come to you."

I pray this is the dream of the hundred souls
I pray this is my Utopia in White.
I dreamt of an Utopia once, and I decided to place my beautiful image into words. Enjoy :)
Maria Etre Dec 2018
I never knew
what it felt like
being loved
the way I love
until
I fell
for myself
through
the looking glass
Lewis Hyden Nov 2018
Frigid buildings as those
That scrape the sky, climbing.
In a place that no-one knows,
Distant bells are chiming

To the shots and screaming,
"Stop resisting!" A rise
In terror betraying
The brittle city's brittle lies.

And for a time we hoped that they
Would never know our quiet rage,
And from the melting lights, we pray
For the silent, now upstaged.
A poem about Utopian life.
#20 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
Sammi Oct 2018
When I’m with you I’m in Utopia
But nothing is as perfect as it seems.
Cause after all the euphoria,
You see that it’s a nightmare, not a dream
Eleni Oct 2018
A constant, distant cymbal.
A second, after the next each nimble
strand of wind catches amongst the chimes.

The women here sway at their troubles.
Needless to say, their pleasure doubles

with a glimpse of their dewed canvas.
Never vulnerable and never anxious.

The melanin glows from miles away:
Even seen now and again from the Wasteland.

A Valinor for deities and Gods;
To sip on the finest grapes, feast on the manna of the apotheosis.

A thousand glimmering rays, kissing the ringlets of green, meandering slowly around the Sun.

In these oriental Lands
I fall in love again after the many cold winters I have spent alone-

Crashing with the icy waves and glacial monsoons.
The maple and fragrant cedar
Fills my visions with a perdurable perfume.
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