Sometimes I wander
Don't really know where to
Letting thoughts and emotion go as I walk through
places I will not remember

Ups and downs
Grins and frowns
Balloons and clowns
Floats and drowns.

Heals and cuts
Opens and shuts
Angels and sluts
Sane and nuts.

Make and break
Real and fake
Give and take
Birth and wake.

Warmth and chills
Sleep and pills
Health and ills
Grows and kills.

Sleepless Nights

And I'm looking
through the other-side
now of a cafe window
at a collection of asian tourists
joyfully wandering
up and down 18th street.
Do they know
I don't belong here,
ordering a 12 dollar cocktail
pretending to type behind
a laptop glow. Do they know
I don't belong here
and I am not scenery
and not a local,
in this country
I feel someplace else.

Iska Nov 10

we are the lost souls,
wandering this lonely world,
searching for each other,
for the place where our dreams
collide with reality.
we are the dreamers,
daring to look to the sky
knowing in our veins
we are destined to fly.
we are born of storm and wind and fire.
created from chaos we are
meant to rattle the stars
we will bow to no one
apologize for nothing
and answer to none
save for the pounding
of our wild hearts.
carved from diamond
we are unbreakable,
with the taste of forever on our tongues
we burn so bright that the sun grows envious  
we will never be chained,
refuse to be contained
and may the gods help those
who dare to tie us down
for you cannot tame
that which is wild and free,
therefore you will never tame me.

Wandering spirt
Screaming out fear it's
Crying, can you hear it?
It trys to gear it
Toward your ear it
Seem to get near it
Misses and a tear it
Seems to appear it
Solidifies this wandering spirit

Screaming out fear.
Pain instanity
Spewing out tears
Why!
Why can't
Anybody hear

Me!
Jules D Nov 4

the house is too large with not enough people,
an empty space, a skeleton of something.
you keep running into the ghost of your dead dog
and the memory of your father in another country.
there are too many people to miss.

the apartment is too full and far away to be called yours,
only a temporary safehouse,
and a place of only work and sleep
cannot be called a home.

you do not want to be lonely
but you cannot wait to be alone,
and so you do not belong anywhere.

doesn't it feel too quiet

I felt so UNINSPIRED  
With this writer's block of mine!
I felt as if I was
Living in Poverty!
So,  I decided to follow the example of the Homeless,
And sift  the Trash
In search of ideas.
I walked into Downtown Denver,
And found a note in a Trashcan at 20th and Welton,
"Juanita!"
"I want you!"
"I need you!"
"I love you!
"I desperately need"
"To feel your touch!"
"Meet me at our usual hangout in Confluence Park"
"And we'll go find a secluded spot for sex."
"I'll bring the tamales."
"Your man, Arthur."
I didn't feel that this note had any subtlety.
It was so tacky!
There was nothing romantic about it at all!
People nowadays treat relationships
Like buying M&M's from a vending machine.
Just stick in the quarters
And get your orgasm.
Boom!
I didn't like It.
I threw the note back in the Trash.
So, I wandered to  17th and Wazee,
I found another note in a Trashcan there.
"Mamma,"
"This is the last you're gonna' hear from me."
"I came here to Colorado from Alabama,"
"Thinkin' I could get rich selling weed,"
"But no one hired me"
"Cause my southern accent is too thick,"
"And I refuse to serve faggots."
"So, I'm gonna'  commit suicide"
"In dramatic fashion on Christmas Day"
"By leaping into an oncoming truck on Interstate 25."
"Keep your eyes peeled to CNN that day"
"And videotape the report of my death"
"So, my niece, Melissa, can see it."
"I want her to know that her uncle Dave"
"Did something important in his life."
This note didn't make any sense at all!
What a Narcissist!
People nowadays just  seem
To live for their "five minutes of fame."
Once they've gotten on TV,
They have no  reason to live anymore.
They've "accomplished their mission".
I threw that crummy note in the Trash
And began heading towards the Mercury Cafe
'Cause I was getting hungry.
Near 19th and Stout Street,
I found one more note
"This is The Holy Commando of Christ's Sacred Militia"
"With a warning for the citizens"
"Of the People's Republic of Denver"
"Judgement Day is near!"
"All those attending New Year's Festivities"
"On Denver's 16th Street Mall"
"Will be wiped out in and act of Divine Retribution!"
"I have superior firepower"
"To any Police or Military"
"And God is on completely my side."
"Abandon your evil ways, Denver."
"I plan to personally carry out God's punishment for your sins!"
This was more horrible literature.
Acting out "The Will of God"!
These Domestic Terrorists are  totally unoriginal!
This whole plan was probably borrowed
From Jemaah Islamiyah's Bali Bombing in 2002.
I didn't feel that it revealed  any creativity at all!
I threw that note back in the Trash too.
As I moped northeast on Stout Street
Towards the Mercury Cafe,
I still didn't feel that I had conquered
My writer's block
But I was somewhat comforted by the fact
That  other writers came up with ideas
That are much worse
Than Nothing!

Irina BBota Oct 29

I almost believed that autumn came,
that rains castles of emotions have built.
Who is guilty of all those things?
The forest on the crust of sadness slipped.

In fall's eyes you see the leaves in the wind,
seeking happiness, weeping for the summer.
For nobody ever-ever told them
what is the meaning of a true autumn.

The days and dawns seem so far now,
the golden leaves flow in a theatrical way.
It was the end of the autumns ball,
they listen triumphantly on the unobstructed paths.

Autumn, with her untrustworthy sadness
returns again, sipping the light of the forest.
Looks like all is floating, resembling to a wave,
they curl and crumble from shore into shore.

The silent trees on the fall's fragile shoulders
are like leaves in the arms of rains soldiers.
With divine lights come through the enchanted glass
at the crossroad to give her one more kiss.

The autumn of soul is like a bouquet of wind,
like love-loving salvation wandering in thoughts.
The sap of love penetrates into the holy rains
with cold splashes, for having the last words.

When ashes have returned to ashes,
   And dust has returned to dust,
My eye-bereft eyelashes
   Turned brittle curls of crust,
I won't be there to know it,
   But brimming with wanderlust,
Into the far beyond I'll go it
   With God.  In God I trust.  

+

Middy Oct 12

I am shocked, shocked I tell you
Stunned is what I am!
I can't complete a sentence
Without a stutter or a stumble

My hand is shaking
There's tears in my eyes
I can't stop thinking in my mind

So many words are cluttered
In my brain
In my heart and soul

I want to let those words out
Cry them, scream them
But I can't
I can't without the hate
I can't do without the opposition
I can't without the homophobia
And the words I cannot repeat
To the ears of the youth

The result of that is sadness
Sadness for me
For my spirit and my sanity
They think I'm crazy
Nutty, mad, bananas
But I'm not alone

I'm sure others are mad
Maybe madder than me
Probably sipping tea
Coffee, water or milk
Maybe eating what I eat
Maybe saying what I say

I'm only able to express them
Explain them all here
No one hates
No one fights
No one laughs
No one taunts

We cry the same tears
We speak with the same voice
We have different opinions
And express them differently
But we have similar thoughts....

Oh!
There goes my wondering mind
Shocked again by what I thought
Stunned, yes that's what I am

I am just speechless from the amount how recognition I got in my last poem, what happens next
I'll be doing a little sequel to it becuase you all really love it
Thank you for all the comments
I love you all :)
Ps: This is not just a poem of how just recognition I got. This was my real reaction when I heard my grandfather died.
My mind wonders a lot like that
Just to distract myself from the loss of him
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