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English Jam May 2018
Boredom on a Sunday is inescapable
I try to hide it behind playing my musical instrument
Trumpeting with my trumpet - blowing my own horn -
I'm praying no one interprets that last sentence as an innuendo
Anyway, I'm nodding off, signing out of reality
The world goes hazy in a second
And I'm ****** into the vortex of a dream

Weird how when a dream begins, we immediately understand the situation
For this scene, I'm spewing blood from my spleen like a bottle of sauce squeezed too hard
It stains the leather of my vehicle
My foot is pressing the pedal to the floor, and the speedometer is twinged in half from all the pressure
The monolith of a highway I'm speeding on shakes as though giants stomp upon it
And the wail of a siren drives me into a frenzy as I try to escape the inevitable
Their polychromatic lights dance at the edges of my eyes, spurring rhythm into action
Even though they must be aeons behind, my heart melodramatically pumps in my chest as though the police are in the backseat
Blood bursting through my temple, thoughts wheezing by like someone's let go of hundreds of balloons  
Up ahead, the road twists itself into a knot of nothingness
My hands are wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly, I fear I might never be able to release them
It's a slight movement: right hand goes down, left goes up, but it kicks the vehicle sideways
My body slams into the car with a satisfying crunch and my mind spirals to spaghetti strands
Oddly enough, the world becomes rinsed with blue wash and I'm underwater

My train of thought becomes peaceful, melodic
I float about, running on the inverse of the waves
Here, even a scream is joyous as it sounds all bubbly and childish
Suddenly, a red streak runs across the ocean, chilling me to the bone and erasing all my bubbles
The sea becomes glittered with red and blue streaks, a warning
Bullets stab at my spleen, reminding me of the pain that was, and still is
And my body gears into a full 360, concluding my return to the real world
Or is it the dream world?
Oh well
Either way, I'm back in my car
Carelessly freefalling from nowhere
Weapons, glass, blood droplets, pocket change, pedestrians...all breeze around slowly
Pleading with me to wake up
Then

Everything crumbles, and I smack my **** head against the window, splattering my brains everywhere
My car flew from the sudden turn and I crashed, I think
Now I lay, grasping onto consciousness while pedagogues staple me to the ground
The Lawman towers over me, grinning madly at my defeat
The most barbaric insult, however, comes from the radio, still magically working
"I fought the law and the law won," The Clash idly sing
One of my favourite songs turned into dark irony
The last I remember before blacking out is the scarlet and marine lights clashing forevermore

When I wake up, I'm face-down on the stony and icy floor
The cold burns me enough to wake me from la la land
The iron grip of the handcuffs feels very real
Words are forced into my head, not by my own design, but sort of like they've been placed there
An argument as to whether existence has a meaning is taking place in my head, and I can't stop it
Sort of like how in a dream, you can't control your thoughts or actions
Wait
This is still a dream, right?
Right?
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
Indebted shadows prey on a prayer
They drink up their glories and sins,
While contending for souls so rare
And endow nails upon my skin:

Clever born,
Hearty,
And silver to the bone.
Nevermore,
Sadly,
Now mutely grey in tone.

“Awake!
Arise!
Win our war in Rome!”
They break,
They lie,
And never came home.

Forget
Please never,
This threat
I sever,
Regret?
Too clever
to lie.

Faulty sins hoist a ****** banner
While goodness is only a trend,
And foes are convenient in manner
Convenience: a conclusive friend.

Too clever to lie
What a convenience am I
Am I: your conclusive friend;
Answer as to why
You raise the stakes high
When you have no soul to lend?
Random write
Tanya Louise Jul 2018
thoughts in endless swirling
like a storm
and un-rhythmic beats of my chest
distract me
i should be listening
but my head is lost
far, far gone
deep, deep it's sunk
maybe its your ****** smile
or your uneven words
i should be listening
but the sparks are distracting
oh,
they'll surely be a second date
Benton James Oct 2018
"I might win.
I have my fast shoes on."
This poem illustrates just how easy it is to make a choice to do good and accomplish much from the perspective of a child.
Jesse stillwater Apr 2018
Just disappearing
isn't possible
when it takes
so long for
a rock wall
to erode away

  The wind
is the only one
that sees you,
and its silence
grinds down
from the inside out
a mountain
too high to climb


  It's hard to forget
swelling words
spoken under the breath
of the voice of silence,
when your hands
are lined with all
that they ever have;

still bearing
every latent piece
that breaks off
tryin' to keep
from the sight
of another
tempest storm gale
moving worlds

  So I'm going
way outside
the edge of the inside;
crossing over
way outside the lines
covered by gathered
windblown life fractals
 
  Though I may not
get back in again,
way outside the lines,
or I might not
even want to ...
you can’t go back
the same way
you came,
everything changes
while you're gone
even if you DO notice

  Gravity pulls
with the strength
of a turning tide:
you can try
and fight it,
but you can't stop
its running downhill
looking behind
your eyes, trying
to take you back
the same way you
went way outside
  the lines ...


        Jesse
.
  04 April 2018
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
Your not just beautiful.
I see you every time I look up.
The star that shines it's brightest.
Filling my life.
The moon lit like a dream.
And forever I stare.
Listening to the silence.
Awaken by a soft light I know it's you.
I can feel your touch hovering about.
Counting the steps until our arms leave our side.
The possibility of traveling from one sphere to the next.
Our eyes but dots in wait.
The question of rockets and big bangs.
The essence of time interlocked between our fingers.
With no room left to breathe, our rocket becomes continuous.
With you, a compilation of light.
Is there any question to why my arms stretch as far as they do.
I gravitate to you, the most beautiful chaos I've ever seen.
To be the space you fill in infinite devotion.
Your not just beautiful, your astonishingly out of this world.
Our arms no longer by our side. the rocket pierces the stratosphere.
We explode internally
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
Faultless lines of an abject realm
Compose, ignite and overwhelm
My soul coarsely brined at the helm
Where devils dance and I am free-

If I am to lie at shallow breath
Sharper still, to a dull smoke of ****
Forsake, adjourn my rage in my death!
And heaven’s halt by false decree-

I know an ocean’s rage is a fire so rare
That these dreams stifle me only a prayer
An empty trespass of the ocean still flares
This realm: a door, my mind: a key-

There is no such soul as the sea
Where devils dance and I am free
And heaven’s halt by false decree
This realm: a door, my mind: a key
And the ocean’s rage as I flee-
Please let me know your thoughts and insight! I’ve been having repitive dreams and I’m writing to understand what I’ve been feeling through this constant dream setting.
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2018
Eyes do speak.
It's funny how they perceive the things around.
The broken conversations heard by fully complexed ears.
I believed that I'd be ok.
The conclusions that eyes draw.
Never making sense of the words heard.
I believed it to be my biggest mistake.
Falling for the beautiful images seen.
Following sight, my first love.
Pain is often beautiful, layered one color after another.
The stories that unfold given enough time.
The initial cause and effect, forgetting the love immortalized before anything
was ever heard.
The intimacy that eyes will only understand/
Speak to me and I'll fully understand.
She'd never been in love.
I gazed intensely
Still I pursued
Kewayne Wadley Jul 2018
Before I knew it I ate half the bag.
Fifty pounds deliciously resting the bottom of my stomach.
I regret nothing.
Weighing my stomach with my hands.
I tried to save some.
Each piece more than the last.
Resting on the coffee table of her heart.
I didn't expect to eat as much as I did.
A decision made in haste,
I smiled.
Easily reaching into my own bag.
Replacing what I ate with that of my own.
Her pieces taste far better than mine.
Knowing that they belonged to her.
My heart rejoiced in knowing this.
My taste buds on the other hand longed for more.
Savoring the taste.
Ready to reach again.
Her heart, the sweetest candy I know
Kewayne Wadley Oct 2016
Of all things,
She opened my mouth and built a bridge only we knew existed.
She arranged pillar upon pillar
Of steel beams.
I struggled understanding what
To do with the left over bolts.
She grabbed my hand
Taking turns throwing them on the outskirts of where we stood.
We stood between the beams,
An incline of sights seldomly seen.
Afraid of heights she rarely looked down.
She'd bury her head in my chest
Very rarely she looked down.
Spoken words clustered in steel beams
Without fear of plunging below.
Arianna Mar 3
"Roused by light
flashing in the flight of Firebirds,
I watch
the crescent-horned Nymphs of the grove approach
bearing the cornucopia of my ashes,
touching my bandaged hands in greeting."

***** without the body,
the Self alone remains,
suspended between remembrance and forgetting.

Sparrows pluck at stubborn scars...

"But the memory of the wounds that left them
is stripped with my skin.
I mourn not the leaving from living
half as much
as the loss of your touch,
engraved in the nerves of...

Unearthly limbs scatter the soot of late humanity
About the dormant pyre
Drinking the dark-eyed dust

... The threads are cut —
No more, no more!

Butterflies caress my wounds with their wings,
but nothing can remedy the Grief
of un-Being,
can staunch the wound of Loss
overflowing in Emptiness,
Absence
from the circle of my arms!

Melting as One,
reabsorbed
by the churning Sea,

No more shall we meet,
dimming between the shades of the Cypress trees...

The pyre exhales grapevines
Who will drink the wine of our memory?
Grasping at the final moments of consciousness
sifting for any trace of You at the precipice
of Infinity
as the final form of
Death
lays its gentle hands...
Hm.
LWZ Jan 24
Her spirit shines of skittles
The flavors you taste on a tropical island
Her soul is made of the first blanket of snow
Cold, but gleams so delightfully in the sunlight

When I look at her this is what I see
Something that I could never be
She’s a magnet to the people around her
Fixed like a child to their mother

A fire so easily contained
She cannot be tamed
Nor does she belong in a cage
The purest warmth you cannot disobey

I promise not to control it
I promise I won’t try to tame it
The fire inside of me is abstract to yours
It’s already ignited a forest to flames

A monster that I created
A fog rampant all around me
Rehabilitate my spirit
Teach me how to add color to my bleak existence
The truth, Is light
Pure
Foreseen

Known

Heavy
In the eyes, Of the dark
Hidden
Evan Stephens Mar 13
The steeple tree is always falling
today in the wood your hand
the flower walk and the
long east of it, the last one
Trish the bar four pints
distress bit lip call
Yes, I know it's, Yes
taffy-pink sky, orange stripe
leaning up, it stutters
hers, the place is, evenfall
& the bird-perch pole
wipe the hair slowly across
bare and my skin a garment
No, it's ok, I'm ok
a tightness gathering
"heaven blotted region."
After Ashbery.
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
And when I dream of you.
The pages turn.
Highlighting a million and one things.
All captivated by the sound we touched with our eyes.
Each played in beautiful melody.
I'd chase behind you.
Playing a symphony each time you'd smile.
Between the pause we were soft.
Supple.
Forgetting which one of us was sleeping.
Revealing all of our secrets.
You taught me how to sing.
Forgetting to move my mouth.
Each emotion thrown from my stomach.
When I dream of you,
I see all the colors.
So vividly played in beautiful color
Hadiy Syakir Nov 2017
Can you see the chaos?

They are not talking to you
they are in you
in each flow
of your blood
in every inch
of your bones

the dissonance! the abstract!
the lack of discipline!

it showers beaut
it radiates power
push your existence
through this
like what it is,
an existence, known as
ever since
the depression
cut the chain
get rid of the tie
embrace your persona
light the candle
and dance to this:

The moment you slowly sink
into a set of perfection is just
The moment you dissolve into
the motion of indefinite silence.
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
Before I knew it I darted towards her like a train.
Barreling toward her fast as I could.
Inhaling deep, releasing deep huff.
The rumble of what came to be manifested before I was seen.
The notion of steam clouds and rod hot like iron.
Darting past the station.
Caution thrown to the wind in a solid fluid motion.
The rumble of my heart lead the way.
Stead fast, the scenery of steeping in front of emotion.
Track after track.
Winding and twisting with nothing to block the way.
I shot into a tunnel.
Stepping head first into what I have always known.
The express route to desire.
To inhale in ultimate asphyxiation.
The next station miles and miles away.
We were punctual.
Breaking down in deep huff.
Trails of smoke funnel where I lost my breath
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
In the morning her eyes paint the cities horizon.
Stretching and yawning.
Getting dressed; Her blue tapestry.
Opening the door to her apartment
She climbs down broken stairs.
It's payday Friday.
The mail man is late again.
Opening her box closing it right back.
She considers direct deposit,
Climbing back up those old creaks in the stairs.
To a notice on the door.
Excessive noise complaint
Rent past due
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
What we have together is complicated.
It very well may be toxic.
But I am glad it happened.
I ask if you love me.
The physical representation of thirst.
You curve my appetite in so many ways.
I am full in knowing that you complete me.
Such a sensual smell.
My mouth burnt by the hot.
My taste buds go insane each time you are near.
Watering at the mouth.
I've eaten too much but know you fulfill my every need.
I often picture a life together with you.
Seasonal aroma, stirred and mixed.
Following your lead.
We grow older.
At times you upset my stomach.
I regret the decision of going to find you.
But this is the same reason I am drawn towards you.
Licking the corners on my mouth.
You fill what hunger I have and I love it.
Because I love you.
We may have our spats but that's anyone that confuses misunderstanding.
I am sincere in the way I am reminded.
Yet selfish in the way I am spoiled.
I love you because you always commit with purpose.
One spoon at a time.
To wake up and have you here with me.
I wouldn't trade anything for it.
To wake up and have you beside me, 
To wake up and ask is that Shrimp Fried Rice on your breath
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2018
Due to popular belief. I believe that certain things are due to happen naturally.
Like all other things it's bound to grow. This thing, love.
We are due to become obese to this organic, homegrown feeling.

The initial look that begins as taste. Naturally we are starved.

Aroused by the scent that lures us close. This thing, love.

One thing we must learn is self control. To not over indulge in the primary reason it exists.

To selfishly take because it's there. This thing, love.

Effort exudes as it becomes habit. Being placed at a table readily available for what portion comes next.

This need becomes confused with want.

To please others before our need in unselfish manner. A straight forward response to habit.

The rising availability of also being taken for granted. The insurmountable outline that defines ****.

Our intake becomes higher attempting to justify the difference. Thus we become lazy.

Reacting in ways we normally wouldn't. This thing, love.

This scent acts as incentive,  instantly attracted by which we over indulge.

Searching for this thing, love.

It's a reasonable thing. Knowing when to reach. When to pull. When to give and sacrifice.

Almost always all of these happen, learning self control, vocalizing when we've had our fill.

Else we will continue to eat until there is nothing left.
Grown obese. This thing, love
Mystic Ink Plus Apr 2018
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Genre: Reflective Art
Theme: Curiosity was/is/will always be the driving force of living kind. Curiosity generates a hope.
Be Curious, Keep Moving.

6 Pathfinder Questions:

1) Are you sure?
2) Where are you going?
3) Does the Sun get warmer there?
4) Does your wishes get closer?
5) Will you be happy?
6) Will you be in peace?

Even if a single answer is doubtful, stop where you are. Face the Sun, reconfirm the path and keep moving towards the goal. It’s never too late to follow the right direction.
Tanya Louise Dec 2018
My ears were ringing, the pimple on my upper lip stinging.
The words they were saying, drowned in the harsh love they were playing.
I know how lovely you are, how kind you can be.
Oh! How I want to believe.
The large weight on my shoulders made my eyes and nose run.
Tick tock went the clock, reminding me of how wrong I was.
Internally my heart stopped for a second, a second too slow.
Her wisdom baffles me all the time, his warnings ******* me time and time again.
While the rope around my neck gets tighter and tighter, the days go faster and faster.
Their advice I would take, hoping and hoping its not too late.
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2018
And like incense our scent takes to the air.
Ascending before we fall.
Her and I.
We burst into fire.
Our eyes a gaseous mixture. 
Ignited by the touch of skin.
Kindling the many thoughts we keep of each other.
A crackle blown out.
Accented in desire,
Our yearning ignites.
We hold ourselves unselfish,
Keeping warm.
Separate stems bonded as one. 
Our inner voice visible. 
Bypassing worry, our doubt.
A piece of us both, dissipating in a slow burning.
To give more than we've taken in unspoken communication.
We fell in ash.
Our scent a prayer sent to heaven. 
To always remain this way. 
Even after our extinguishing.
May we linger.
Forever more.
Falling fast asleep in each other's arms.
Leading each other to a place we call love.
Until the last ash drops
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
I boarded her heart.
Careful to follow the politics of comfort.
Too much weight on either side & We'll surely panic.
Tumbling down.
Spiraling out of control.
I packed light.
Finding everything I need on board.
I enjoyed my window seat.
Being her passenger.
The pleasantries of flying first class.
The view of a different country.
The tedious flutters of anticipation.
Constantly aroused by the exploration of beating hearts.
Continuing to see ourselves in reflection.
Flying destination after destination.
Going here, going there
Non stop.
If ever we should crash.
I'll live knowing this was the best flight I've known.
Light in heart.
Parachute untouched
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