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 Aug 2014 Issa
nat
And it hurts
When you're so worthless
To everyone,
Including yourself

When even
Your very best friend
Couldn't be bothered
To save you from hell

When those who
Told you they'd always be there
Left you
With out so much as a thought

And for
All they care
You could sit there
Until you started to rot.

{NR}
 Aug 2014 Issa
Yara Mrad
Taxi
 Aug 2014 Issa
Yara Mrad
With a shy smile on her face she peeked into the place
Lost as a sheep would be away from its flock
She stood there in the doorway hesitated before she finally talked
Her pain was hiding under an innocent tone
She took a few steps forward and when she saw me
Relief sparkled on her pale face i could barely see
She said: will you please type the number of the nearest taxi on my phone?
Where am i, what's the name of this city?
How long will the taxi take to get here?
Tell him not to be late
I need to escape
Can i please stay here and wait
Until the taxi comes and carries me away?
I nodded, she rushed to the nearest chair and sat on it
I walked away to get my cleaning kit
Tables needed to be wiped clean
So did her heart, it seemed
As i came by to check on her
Ask her if she needed coffee or dessert
Her hand instantly wiped her tears
That had drown a humid pathway on her red cheeks
She forced a smile into her face
Looked at me with watered eyes and bitten lips
"Thanks, i'm fine" she said
"I'm just waiting for my ride"
As the taxi drove by on the other side of the road
She rushed out of the restaurant waving goodbye
Risked her life crossing to the other side of the highway
Must have had a tough night, that poor thing
And the taxi carried her away..
This is something I've actually witnessed last week while i was at work. A young girl, as described above, walked in and this is basically what happened. Couldn't help but write a poem about it..
 Aug 2014 Issa
nat
Waves
 Aug 2014 Issa
nat
I toss and turn
I'm awake and then gone
I can't control my own thoughts
And suddenly I'm falling-
Then I'm back.

It's hard to find
A single moment
When the wave starts to crash
They build with wrong intentions
And they never really end.
So violent off the coastline
But on the shore they breathe
Seeming so gentle and kind
Until they pull you out
To drown in their undying pain.
I always loved the sand
The feeling between my toes
Until I walked on the grass again
And the sand wouldn't leave
It held on with everything.

And now my thoughts
Are back to you
Because you're just like the ocean
And maybe that's why
I don't swim anymore

{NR}
 Aug 2014 Issa
Yvette
Cages fail in their attempt to hold beauty/ as sand from hand it slips/ slips from time taking shape in chance and impact/ funny how a cage traps the body/ yet the mind traps the soul//
 Aug 2014 Issa
David Lewis Paget
She worked part-time as a seamstress,
An ordinary sort of girl,
But one with a dash of blue-eyed wit,
An endearing brunette curl.
I’d plucked up the courage to ask her out,
For me it was more than like,
And everything seemed to be going well
Before the lightning strike.

One day we walked to the countryside
By the fields of wheat and hay,
Rambling on by the hedgerows there
On a darkening Autumn day.
I stole a kiss in a grove of trees
From the lips that taste like wine,
And then she whispered her love for me
All coy, with her eyes a-shine.

The clouds were gathering overhead
And soon it began to rain,
We sought some shelter, under a ledge
Right next to a field of grain,
But she was nervous, clung to my hand
When the thunder growled on high,
‘The gods are grumbling over the land,’
She said, and began to cry.

I said, ‘There’s nothing to fret about,
It’s only an Autumn storm,
We’ll just stay here and we’ll wait it out,’
But Michelle was lost, forlorn.
A mighty clap came from overhead
And she screamed, ran out in the rain,
When a bolt of lightning struck her there,
A flash, then a shriek of pain!

I dashed on out, and I picked her up
But her clothes were burned and charred,
Her hair was white and it stood on end,
Full of some potent charge.
She rolled her eyes and she looked at me
Her face, a panic attack,
And then I saw that her sky-blue eyes
Had turned to a deep jet black.

The clouds were tumbling overhead
Though the rain was passing on,
The lightning strikes were further away
She cried, ‘Has the thunder gone?’
She sat there trembling in my arms
But focussed her gaze on high,
And said at last, as she stared above,
‘There are demons up in the sky!’

She spent a month in the hospital
And they said she’d be okay,
I’ll never forget the way she looked
When I picked her up that day,
She huddled up in the car and said,
‘The world outside has changed,
For fire and flashes are everywhere
There’s a lightning strike in my brain.’

‘And now, in the darkest corners I
Have visions of swarms of rats,
While up in the eaves, and waiting there,
A host of vampire bats,
There’s crawling things that I didn’t see
Before, when my eyes were blue,
And awful spiders with fourteen legs,
Right now, they’re crawling on you.’

I took her home, and put her to bed,
I thought that she needed rest,
A week went by, but she’d sit and cry,
I thought she was quite obsessed.
Then I started hearing crawling things
At night, when I went to sleep,
And woke to a creature on my chest
That made my own flesh creep.

There’s demons up in the clouds,’ she said,
‘And fires scorching the ground,
And everywhere that I look, I see
Where evil spirits abound.’
I couldn’t take it a moment more,
These things invaded my mind,
I did what anyone else would do,
And now, Michelle is blind!

David Lewis Paget
 Aug 2014 Issa
Mercurychyld
~ RAIN ~
 Aug 2014 Issa
Mercurychyld
There are days
when the rain seems
like nothing more
than inconvenience,
and puddles, messes,
and noise.

More often than not, though,
the rain has been a friend,
a companion of sorts.

It has lessened the
loneliness in moments
of grief and despair,
as it shared in
inconsolable
and silent tears.

It has covered me
like a warm blanket,
as it washed away
the fears.

More often than not,
the rain has been
a path to renewal,
a baptism most sacred.

Even the melody
and timber of the rain
has often soothed me,
like white noise
can comfort a
restless child.

The rain can consume
and wash out
and drown,
pushing unwanted
memories and dreams
down an any-named road,
for miles and miles.

For me, more often
than not,
it provides shroud
and cover from the sun’s
intense heat,
inspiring gratitude
and most joyful
smiles.



~ by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
 Aug 2014 Issa
Endless Horizon
I once found a field,
A beautiful field.
A field that humans have not disturbed.

I lived by the trees near this beautiful field.
But I lived in complete ignorance,
as two men, each with a *****,
came to the middle of the grass,
and struck down a wooden plank.

Before long, my forest disappeared.
Instead of grass growing,
The only thing that surfaced,
was the pale gray stone that was laid there.

I watched as they dug deep into the ground,
where tall boxes of stone and glass rose.
They stood proud against one another,
one building higher than the last.
But they blocked my view,
of a once beautiful sky.

Before long, the field turned into a city,
Cars and buses drove though the winding streets.
People soon started to appear,
and the field I once knew was long forgotten.

A fountain has now been placed,
where the pioneers have struck their plank,
With no tree in sight,
I throw the last seed into the water.
Where it settles to the bottom with coins and marbles,
never to sprout.
Poem that I wanted to share. It's long, so I'm sorry. But this isn't my longest lol
 Aug 2014 Issa
Endless Horizon
I came to an art show,
where a friend stood proudly beside his painting.
Many people liked it,
and it made him genuinely happy.
So I tried making a painting of my own,
and I hung it beside his.

Seeing all of the other artists’ paintings.
Beautiful palettes of color and hue.
I could see why flocks of people
were huddled up in front of it,
praising the artist for his tremendous work.

I made it my goal to improve my painting.
And so I did.
People liked it, huddled around it, praised it.
And I genuinely felt happy.

My other friends saw how lovely,
all the paintings were.
So they decided to make their own,
all of them, three.

I was astonished…proud…happy
to see people huddled around each of their paintings,
praising them for what they did.
And they felt genuinely happy.

All was good, until one day,
when one friend said,
“Hey, let’s make this fun and interesting, and play a game,
whoever gets the most praise at the end of the year,
wins.”

I didn’t want this to be…
I never wanted this to be just
another competition.
Just another stage,
to brag how great they are.

I hope,
that this will never come to that.
You are all artists in your own special way.
You don’t have to get all the praise,
to know you’re good.

Continue making those awesome paintings.
Never stop improving them.
Because one day, I know,
people will start huddling
around yours.
Sorry if it's long guys. This is something thats happening to me, and the thought would be lost if I cut some stanzas down. So sorry again :)
(you know who you are students, peace yo)
 Aug 2014 Issa
Sjr1000
We've become a
civilization of diseases
we build
monuments
statues
institutions
thinking death won't ever find
us here.

Our minds are scrambled
our bodies are damaged
our food is poisoned
our skies are toxic
our vices
are forces of processes
beyond our
control.

When we are not humbled
by nature's power
we inflict our wounds
upon ourselves in
the names of greed
and self protection
and no one knows
what it really means.

Fearful of the silence
we fill our skies with
endless noise
babbling on in endless
monotones, droning
while traffic stalls
at a hot stand still
idling engines
idling souls
depletion of every last glimpse
of the past.
Jam packed
in the stench
I am lost today
in
this vitriol
as anxiety, death and desperation
from every corner
screams my name.

That's why I came
to these woods
where the illusion of
peace remains
as
wild fires burn
just down the lane
as you know
as you say
its always been this way
when bodies hung
at every cross-roads
hunger, power, ignorance
and strength
all ran
the show.

I'm sick with
every disease I
know.

I float upon these tranquil
blue waters
and
we are reminded of the peace we all
really can know.
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