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Joshua Haines May 2017
Solo, like Star Wars or women's soccer
I sit on a ***** chair with pure liquor
sealed from the rest of the world

Numb, like Linkin Park or lithium
they hold my wallet like it's a gun;
want to use it to gauge my meaning.

If you want a dollar, babe, then
you gotta work to separate
yourself from everything sane
or how else can you gain

the feelings you see on t.v.,
what E! says is reality--
because you're told that's
what matters, entirely.

Identity; conform to be something
marketable -- or, at the very least,
conventional. I want my insides
to be considered pretty, but
I'd have to hope someone
would give the effort to
cut me open and ignore the joy
that my bleeding out would bring.
Sean Holshouser Apr 2017
She sits,
Her pencil quietly pacing along the page,
Left to right; left to right,
Pacing through her work with the consistent monotony of a swinging pendulum,
Left to right; left to right.

Her mind wanders,
Flying with the color and speed of a kite curving through the air,
Left to right; left to right,
Vividly weaving through carnivals, old romance movies and young ladies dancing,
Left to right; left to right.

She sits alone,
Her mind quietly vacationing off to a calmer place, her body sways,
Left to right; left to right,
Feeling lonely there, thinking of the oak trees outside of her window, swinging,
Left to right; left to right.

Her eyes are the color of the trees,
They twinkle and flash with the rush of the circus, and the old movies,
And the beautiful music playing its melancholic, nostalgic tune,

She is the young lady dancing, dancing through her life with love in her heart,
And even when she feels lonely, or sad, or afraid,
She needs nothing more than to remember the world's unending, growing love for her.

As she continues her work, she hums to herself,
Her mind painting pictures of indescribable beauty, matched only by that of her own,
And if she listens closely enough, she hears the whole world humming back to her, gently, across her heart,

Left to right; left to right.
Breanna Stockham Mar 2017
If you tell gold it's worthless,
It might believe you.
But does saying that
Make it true?

Is worth defined
By what's verbalized?
If you criticize
Does worth minimize?

Words are words,
Not always true.
But gold is gold!
And you are you.
Don't weigh your worth
On what you're told.
Despite it's value
Even some dislike gold.
langlo Feb 2017
Love is such a heavy word
I think it's thrown around too much..
too often, that over the years
it eventually lost its true value.
I convinced a man he could prune his own ****.

That if he spliced it just so,
two little pink shafts would sprout in it's place.
Wriggle themselves growing into two separate fully functional phallus.
And I watched him.
As he reluctantly reached for the shears.
And went through the five stages of grieving.

"There's no way this will work.

******* for telling me this secret!

can't I just take a pill to grow a second **** without having to cut this one off?

I don't think I can live without it..."

but just think, I reminded him.
after you do this.
You're gonna have TWO *****.

"I'M GONNA HAVE TWO *****!"

TWO *****.

And with almost no other thought, reasoning or belief.

He closed the shears



He opened his eyes.

His flaccid privilege laying there.

"When does the growing start?"
He asked me, pained.
His big brown eyes swelling.

"It doesn't."

"WHAT?"

"I lied to you, it doesn't grow back."

"It doesn't grow back? Not even one?

"Not one, not two,
no **** for you. I lied."

"Lied?"

"Lied."

it was easy,
to convince him.
Just had to promise he'd have two times the power in the long run.
If he risked it all right now.
Gabriel burnS Jan 2017
There is no savior
for all;
there's even no
individual salvation

You know the cost
of a call,
but that of
conversation?

You can hear,
that I know,
but can you listen?
And when you talk
is it the things
you say
or is it in the way...
What is absent,
is it missing?
oni Feb 2017
a number is just
a number

a character
written on paper

it has no value
until we give it one

based on
accuracy
amount
rank

please do not
be mad
at the number
for reflecting
the value
that you give to it
Jim Marchel Jan 2017
Go back to your black-and-white world

Void of color and warmth

And of depth and of passion.

Go ahead and crawl back behind

Pages of guilt and chapters of pain.

Hide your face with the cover

Of the latest Roth novel

And forget that color and fragrence

And feelings and senses

Exist.
This is a follow-up to a poem about color I wrote previously, "What Friends Are For". It's a personal piece, about a former friend who is color-blind who really took me for granted, especially after I invested in glasses for him to be able to see the world in color. It gave me a new perspective on cliché proverbs already floating around, but this one is mine: Not everyone will be able to see the color you bring into their lives, but that doesn't mean you aren't a colorful being.
Toby Lucas Dec 2016
If one word was to define who you were -
Not what you were like or how you come across -
But what and who you are,
I would strive for sincerity.
Capturing the nuance of being counter-cultural
(stark against the world we live in);
Honest to the point of perfect precision in what I say and mean;
Genuine in openness and lacking deceit;
Firm and unmoving against the tide;
Secure in the validity of that on which I stand;
Disciplined for integrity and truth;
Heartfelt and reliable (despite frequent shortcomings);
Prepared not only to go the distance but to run it,
To invest and care through thick and thin,
Not to forgo earnest in the buffering and buffeting;
Wholeheartedly honourable, the man others would wish to be;
Virtuous and steadfast in quality and character,
A rock to hold onto, a solid foundation,
A dedication to being authentic and true.
No false wax to the visage you see,
An artistic and inhuman ideal.
-
Sincerity has been under attack, besieged as an unachievable goal
In a world focused on the self - to be selfless seems foolishness.
Attention in this life lasts the sum amount of difficulties;
We flee from the floodplains when the river comes
Rather than endure and be refined by rich streams.
Sincerity does not crumble under commitment,
Nor erode in the face of effort:
Prepared to invest, forgoing instant gratification,
Persevering under pressure whilst all else fades.
It does not shrink from the fight but turns its cheek,
It forgives the slight and suffers for the lost,
It carries the cross for the rejected and the weak,
It sacrifices all it has at great personal cost,
It stands up to scrutiny when it stands for truth,
It lives and dies in unfathomable love.
It's been a while. Hello, poetry. Winter 2016
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