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 Sep 2017 anthony
nivek
the humble Ant teaches that tiny actions when gathered together
can form an ordered and successful society where the individual is valued for the contribution they make for the good of the whole.
 Aug 2017 anthony
Olivia V
willow
 Aug 2017 anthony
Olivia V
softly, she weeps
warm tears falling,
tracing her contours.
a breeze, so soft,
moves through her.
it's silent tonight,
and so is she.

tendrils of green,
sway above her.
a dance of despair,
of solace and sadness.
and she joins
and moves with the wind.

she thinks and she thinks,
of ephemeral air.
how it stirs and caresses,
then dissipates and departs,
only to sweep across mountains and valleys.

she wishes to be,
no more than a breeze.
gentle but strong,
to be felt by all yet seen by none.

the willow above,
with its weeping green,
grazes her cheeks,
and beckons her gently
to join with those currents,
in their invisible journey.

and so her body fades,
and she leans to the tree,
the drapery of leaves
enfolding her like a lover.

if one were to glance
at the willow tree,
they would see a girl no longer there
would see only tendrils of green,
swaying in the wake of some wind.

in her place,
there is now a silent emptiness.
and the willow still weeps
with joy for her freedom,
in despair that she's gone.
 Aug 2017 anthony
olivia g
Her hair may smell like sweet summer rain and her smile always settles weirdly in your stomach, but she is poison. She is a toxic cocktail garnished with cigarette smoke that reminds you of the night you came too close to kissing her. She is unattainable, she is right beside you and yet your fingertips cannot ever quiver hard enough to close the gap between you and her.

You crave her so desperately. You would be humbled to fall apart for her. At her feet, you’d make your bed, and there you would stay all alone through the night, dreaming of how she swore she’d come back for you. There you will stay while the dawn filters in through the drapes, while the sharp rays of early morning light are all that is there for you to blame for your tears. She will not come back because boys will be boys, with their tousled hair and heavy brows and all of their hard edges, and she will love them for that. No matter how hard she bleeds before he gives way for her, she will melt into him.

She wears your sorrows like a dress gown. You tell her past the knot in your throat that she looks gorgeous. Your palms itch; it takes everything in you to not smooth down the ripples in the fabric around her hips. Her night skin’s being shed by calloused hands within her first hour out at the bar. And in a few hours’ time, she’s battling her hangover with her head in your lap while you comb through the mess of her hair and tell her that she still deserves better. She says she knows that already.

What she doesn’t know is that you do, too.
to any girl who's ever fallen for her straight best friend…you will find love, and she will be brilliance unlike you've ever seen before. ***
 Aug 2017 anthony
Rebel Heart
You say I'm running from myself
I guess you're right
Maybe I am
All I know is that the reason
I hear my heartbeat so clearly
Is because my chest is hollow

I am made up of layers
Too many layers
As if my skin
Was preparing to survive
Out in dead winter at the South Pole

I'm annoying
  I'm distrustful

    I'm stubborn
       And I'm doubtful

           And secretive

Maybe downright manipulative

   But most of all I'm exhausted

Exhausted of the nothingness
   That I float around in
Exhausted of everything
  That comes and goes
    Ensuring chaos
Exhausted of everything and nothing
  And all things in between
         Exhausted of
                     **living
Too tired to live too important to die, guess the story keeps repeating doesn't it?
(Front page 8/14/17)
 Aug 2017 anthony
Olivia V
read till end*

watch the magic man
how he weaves his hands
it's an illusion and a trick
watch carefully, be quick

he deceives us all
but keeps you in such thrall
this enigmatic show
it ebbs and it flows

now the day fades to black
it's silent...look back
what's happened? oh no...you're now all alone
you shiver right through, deep down to your bones

it's just you and him
the cold night's turned grim
his deception has fooled you
what's real, what's true?

look up and see, that he meets your stare
a smile of crimson, a cruel ****** tear
he twists in his hands, an object of malice
so sharp one slice, would render you bloodless

now slowly, so slowly please turn away
try to run, and please try to pray
for still he will find you, in the dead of this night
so don't think you're safe, don't leave the light

magician no more, he's an eater of souls
he'll skin you and string you up over hot coals
make haste, run quickly, my sweet little girl
my moon will guide you, a luminous pearl

you hear him and feel him, just over your shoulder
but I will be waiting - run faster, be bolder
duck behind corners and hide between nooks
think of the stories, you read in your books

of ladies so brave, with hearts full of fires
who live in a world of deceivers and liars
a web of confusion, I ask you to weave
pull all the tricks, right out of your sleeve

he tricked you, sweet flower
dishonesty: his power.
so take it, embrace it, as if it is yours
destroy all his plans, my small saboteur

safety I promise, if you beat the deceiver
he'll wither and rot and be taken by fever
oh darling don't fret, don't stumble and cry
for what bad could come, of one little lie?
The idea of this poem, started when I was reading a book called “The Night Circus”. I thought about how children are always told not to lie, or to even spin the truth, because it will end in pain for them and that it is not ‘the right thing to do’. We grow up being told not to be dishonest - and yet somehow, become adults who do it almost compulsively. The girl is the innocence, and the magician the world that we, as children, were once entranced by and convinced was exactly as it seemed - only to discover that it can be full of scorn and evil and seems to be out to get us. The voice that speaks to the girl, is the voice of a mother, and she tells the girl to use the magicians’ deception against him – that is to say that she loses her innocence and turns to his cruel tricks in order to survive; she herself needs lies, and being cunning becomes a necessity. In this world, we too must be cunning and occasionally deceptive if we want to get the outcome we seek.
The ending, by asking, “what bad could come of one little lie?”, is supposed to draw the reader to the insight of a full circle - that the man himself embodied lies and was cruel and had no love even for the innocent – so what bad could come? Is that we begin only to know how to be liars and to deceive and that we believe it is the only way to get ahead in this world. Like the magician did.
He has no care for what his deceptions do - that they shatter the previous joy and beauty of what the girl thought she knew.
This poem was inspired because I hope it does make one wonder if we lie to protect ourselves or to intentionally harm others to get ahead. There are two sides to each story, and if I flipped this poem, it would be form the magicians perspective – the perspective of someone so corrupted by his web of lies, that it is now all he knows.
 Aug 2017 anthony
Pablo Neruda
Don't go far off, not even for a day
Don't go far off, not even for a day,
Because I don't know how to say it - a day is long
And I will be waiting for you, as in
An empty station when the trains are
Parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then
The little drops of anguish will all run together,
The smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
Into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve
On the beach, may your eyelids never flutter
Into the empty distance. Don't LEAVE me for
A second, my dearest, because in that moment you'll
Have gone so far I'll wander mazily
Over all the earth, asking, will you
Come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

— The End —