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Justin Lai Dec 2020
squelched between bodies spiralling into escalators,
my trained eye couldn't help hovering a little left

right there, coming into view at the watch store,
though never caught dead anywhere near M·A·C

but neither should my stares, blatant without restraint,
fixed on a trio chattering like keys jangling

to the beat of a million other stolen glances,
only for them to slip away for some froyo.

rather than melt into a fruity confection myself,
I steel my eyes back into the spiralling masses

blocking out three gym bags marked 'WATER POLO',
my untrained heart pulses still for their suntan

and the bleachers of yesterday, the sight and sweat,
jocks jangling for position in glistening waters —

only then did I dare scream my lungs out,
safe in the crowds of a high school roar.
the bj stands for bugis junction, it's a local shopping mall okay xD
Robin Carretti May 2018
Feeling the "Earthquake" not really knowing who your lover
really is. All spies like a Jupiter Ascending
love ammunition how it got you there is no pretending

    Boo Botox
     Net Flix
Does the letter
Solve our problems
       On a Fix

My X bigger bridges
Brooklyn hug sorry
(The Braggart)
Mr. Humphrey
Home of Ophrey
Supermarket X-play
Spoiled to
the very flame

life "X"  sport betting
X-Files hurt-playing
The book
**** and Jane
pooping and
cleaning up
Keep talking
to never
shut up

Marks the spot
X-Men cup
Where's your other
X husband?
Did he get bruised
So wounded by
another lover

Tight B-fit
Treasure chest
The pinch cheeker
Tried to heal him
I heartfelt his
Drummer beat
me to it

Computer Bugs
Ladybugs of aids
Teddy hugs maids

Judy red  Grape
ruby slippers
Her Garlands
Singing to the bank
The farmland
Dot .   .   .   .   .
Are you down
on your

She's highlands
Over the rainbow
  Oz only
Spellbound in
your sleep

Z   zzz  Z  zzz

Buzz-zzz Beeee
Mover trucker
Hoarder Fed Ex
So Wed-Dexter
Did you see the
tape of
The French
The *******
Raise her mattress
Don't hock my
X design
She is wanted
Up Up and away
Need an update
Her calender Girls
Bikini X=style cups

Those braggarts
Bring on nuggets
** -
The bragger
The true lover

He darts me
Twin Tigers eye
Lined and framed
Valentines Day xoxo
Laying hearts on
the line
He's playing darts

He circled me
tic tack toe

Zany Zorro
1 0  0 0 $ Extra
  ** The Taxman  
Oh! Why Y Y

down to
Zero Conman
  Singing the blues
Holiday Miss Billie
Let one X be my hero
Just X me 4-A

Of Spies per day
The Wolfine
Another X boyfriend
Time machine

Love conquers all
Another try

The old testament
The new Xtra
To be speared
The spearmint
Jupiter Ascending
in the future

Black magic or the
Told her X its time

Bloodline getting
More enemies
of your rival
The good
versus evil

Halftime marked
No time adjusted
The real-time
everyone's birth
Crying movie
Xtra needing
one bad

Pinch cheek warm
Looper fine Cooper
Spies coming to me
X   X   X   X

The love forever
But not willingly
Oh!   0  0   0

Like you were both
Marked to die

Organic minerals
Meeting X-men
Good time of currency
love potency
Highland to my fancy

The even exchange

He's X I am $

What would you prefer?

More TimeSquare
Love me not

Last City token fare

The math equation
Likewise silver teaspoon

Lovers measurable swoon
X men on the lagoon

Of the lord

The human state
Do you mind

Losing some stripes

Oh! Yikes making amends

People on the inside

Flattered by the energy
    X boast_
Heavenly encounter above
Name of a title 2 for X

Foremost another
Spy of
a toast
((To Be)) the most
Mark me and I promise
You will see
Jupiter Ascending
Her Floppy disk
In Gods love

The future we may never know

But all the love in the world

"Love Is The letter"
If your happy and
you know it
Clap your X- hands
No pretending just
move to
your destination
X marks a lot of loves but we need the movie Xtras
Ariel Jan 2018
This castle of clay is all that remains
Of my empire of sand and glass
I can't explain this unwavering pain
Since you went away
My hands hurt.
The constant migraine of your lost face
Is with me to this day

My hands hurt.
They keep me awake
I cannot take a moment's rest
I must remain, to defend.
Here I stand, in the sand
Against the rain
Against the pain you have left
My castle of clay is all that remains
And I will try to save it to my last breath

My hands hurt.
In the end
All that you spent
Was the love that I freely gave
Surrounded by the dead
I am spent
Like the soldiers you did not send
Save me now,
Don't let me drown here in the rain.

My hands hurt.
The scars you left
Have never changed
It's still an open wound
Standing here defending my land
Protecting my empire of dirt.
Defending my castles of sand and glass.
Still here rebuilding my empire of dirt.
Until the day
(Oh, that blessed day!)
Until the day that my hands
Will no longer
I was inspired by one of the scenes in Logan and by the comic Old Man Logan to create a little diddy that might be Wolverine's anthem as he grows older and the number he's lost increases. Shout out to Hugh Jackman for being such an incredible Wolverine, you will always be my favorite!!
Raised by repulsion from the nearest or attraction to the furthest
pole, over lode ranges levitating loxygenlessly, His Hypergrav Grace.
Is it the spirit of Ed Headrich, his frisbeing free from his body,
tho’ underwhelmed by his halo, an aureate Aerobie?
Or is it a crimson crow? No: Magneto.
If the posthuman is a Pandora’s box,
he’s its inexorable crowbar, Evolution’s new broom.
Natural Selection a sovereign reinstated
by muta-über new bar,
master who has no call for crowbars or keys, tinopeners, boltcutters,
of knurling or bending his mag-knees-toes when lifting        
marines outta degaussed exosuits by the scruff of their dogtags
- let them hover till they hang!

Basketballingly belittling
a B-52, curlynealing a jet bomber on th’end of his index,
coz round his pinkie imperious Magneto twists
electrons’ spins and orbits.
Awesummoning electromagnetic pulses,
big bogoff SHA-KOOM! shockwaves,
that bring Nato’s whirlybirds of prey, chinooks, to book
(e.g. the ‘Book of the Devil Valley Master’ from 4th century BC China).

And as for the F22 Raptor
-  watch out, that’s a brandnew…Oh, scrapt war-
bird. Steel its Achilles’ heel,
mankind’s  collective military might
humbled into a junkyard on high,
a giant junk gyre crinklin’ and creakin’,
scraping and chiming as all modernity metallurgic
is mashed about the ambit of the carcrusher eye
of his chrome Charybdis in the sky.
Vast and vortical vectorfield realised in lithe steel,
seething silver stratospriral o’ swirly enswallowment
straddles Megiddo, with accretion disc of armoured ooze
like a platinum worldwreath,
but no condolence means Magneto.
No large hadron collider had to collude in
this inhaling metalmouth of a hellmouth,
where to winged lemming death
magnetoceptive real birds might be misled.  
It'd magnettickle my ethmoid bone,
my lapsed biocompass’d soak up teslas and oersteds
till  lagnetism of hysteresis heated
my gone cold prehistoric sense of direction,  
my bearings on fire f’hours
after his fingers apocalypclickt
a billion ballbearings
to buckshot the firmament.
Twinkle twinkle Stan Leethal story
of the Fuehrer as Uri Geller on roids.
Overlord lovely in a cape chromarinated
in shells of murex, wearing unionsuit exterior pants
(his are a rhapsody in rhodopsin)
over longjohns of magenta spandex.
And brightred buckethead
helmet, which deflects ESPeeping by pilgarlic psychic Prof X,
coz genetic raggy dolls’ rex transcends Brand X!

Tinker , tailor? Tut, I wanna be the Fuehrer as Uri Geller on roids,
supernally surfin’ Sheffield steel shoah of swarming saucepans,
shaving blades and stanleeknives and saws and Saabs
and copcars and ironore meteorites. Also, the surgical
instruments of the street and the shanks of medical science;
sets of stainless steakspears of infomercial provenance;
scraggy skyscrapers got by the girders , horizontally hurled
as if Godzilla’s ghost improvised  9/11esque javelins.

Magneto’s only weakness is that he repels fridge magnets,
and same re pelmatic neodymium of toy taikonauts for spacewalks.
No matter when he can magicnetise
fridges to fly with a flock of killer falling filing cabinets
in an ironfilingsswirling firmament!

Whether noble or base, the metal in everything mangled
into motion at his megalomagnetic fingerclick,
raising a scrapmetal maelstrom thru mere cerebration,
which shines retribeautifully
as it veers quadrivially at some veerlocity,
on fourwayspliting beeline to align with
recycled hails of sharpnel shellcases,
as well as virgins to internal ballistics,
all the bashful bullets never barrelistically trajected,
yet volitating with a vengeance to
Washington and Salem, Berlin and Genosha.
For starters.
All thru the all too **** crapien weeks of human weakness,
I wished upon faraway far ago farty fled fusion,
upon Polaris (star that wags Baby Bear,
not Wanda and Quicksilver's stepsis ),
upon any old alien civilisation’s screwy sun/s,
upon colossal conkedout spinfernos and neutron glowwormholes,
but God must have gone fishin’.

Or is She still a few
puffedup predicates prefixed ‘omni-‘ short of a Godhead,
still an interstellarmedium cadet after Her pre-Bigbang epidural?
Or just washing Her dark matted hair, God a Rapunzel
with superstring bob I cannot dream up like Jacob?

A powerlessnesscrazed petition went PEYOWM!
outta my polarised soul, grim and swift as sylviacidal dew,
or rush hour reaper atop an atrous cheetah,
skeletal chevalier shepherding spirits
of manic street pizza.
O supplication newselfseeking  
approprihated my full steam squirminmyownskin
for a reaction mass,
'swhy seekanddestroy geekandfanboy's
rogation rightly rocketed… Right
into the overriding white noise
of God’s Rice Crispies, madding crowd of cosmic
microwave background radiation.
Suppose I’m stuck with stealth seething,
finding myself sorely wanting, sorely needing
the confidence boost of being **** superior,
which is what my warp factor wish was for.
G’arn God, givvus mutie superpowers
like a registered trademark of Marvel Comics,
and not just metahuman partytricks,

coz I wanna be the instantaneous ironsmith
himself, metal’s mesmeric animator, demiurgic gremlin
mentally meddling with enemies' mechanics,
ballonanimauling  their oilderricks.
Ferroshistin’ scifi miracle terrorism
at Magneto’s theatrical fingerclick.
shiftingclouds May 2014
Dear Charles,

I am writing this to tell you one thing and one thing only:
A war is about to begin soon, and once it has, both you and I know that only one side can win. This means that the losing side loses everything.
Unfortunately for you, I do not share your faith in humanity. And I absolutely have no pity for them. They are a bunch of idiots who fear what they do not understand and try to get rid of it before figuring out what they are actually dealing with. Humans see us as a disease, Charles. They fear us because we have far more potential than them and that we are above them in terms of power. Believe me, I didn't want to fight against humanity either, but I am not able to just sit and watch while another fellow mutant die because of them. We are initially not a threat, but now they have turned us into one. And we are certainly not experimental subjects, but they have turned us into those too. From the moment I noticed these signs around me I knew I had to save myself before it's my turn, even if it means eradicating everyone else.

I do not wish to do this, Charles, but one day you will learn that some matters can only be solved using the hard way. As much as you hate to admit it, diplomacy is not able to smooth everything out. I am sure that your friend Hank knows this well more than we do. I am not the enemy here, Charles. I am only trying to save myself and also my own kind. Our own kind.

I have left with several of our fellow mutants. You might be able to track them down with Cerebro but not me. However, just in case you do, please don't bother coming for me. I have set my mind and you know that the only way to change it is for you to get into my mind and take over it, which you won't. I will be carrying out plans you will certainly disapprove of. But then again, Charles, we are two very different people. As far as I can remember, we have never agreed on a single thing before, which surprises me that we even became acquaintances in the first place.

I hope I will never see you again, Charles. But if we do, I hope we will be fighting alongside each other, not standing on opposite sides of the battlefield.

Take care of Raven for me. I trust you better at handling her than I do.

Your old friend,
Mutant and proud

— The End —