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the light brightening-to-shadow,

can be done,
we call it,
humans color,
bleach and dye their body's

if only
we could gradate,
our lives,
select the days
we graduate
the light dissipates into shadow,
bleaching and dying
our lives

when, where,
we could be the being,
the changeling,
dyeing the destiny of our designation*

why would we need poetry?
Nigdaw Jul 2019
Said the girl who sleeps ‘till noon
Long past ****’s crow,
Through dawn’s chorus
Rush hour, breakfast news
Until the lengthening of shadows;
“You need to live a little”
On the edge, close to the perimeter
Blade of a knife, cutting life
Do the drugs, drink the alcohol
Put the time in, whenever you can
Then sleep ‘till noon
Long past ****’s crow,
Through dawn’s chorus
Rush hour, breakfast news
Until the lengthening of shadows;
Night is where it’s at
Out with vampires,
Following the werewolf’s howl
Where creatures of darkness prowl,
You don’t need light
Darkening skin and bleaching hair,
Ageing you beyond repair;
Here you can party
‘Till there’s nothing left to party for.
Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2016
There is nothing to pinpoint of the strange beast.
Only images,

Blurred and refracted,
Fleeing down a hallway of mirrors.

O maestro of conditions,
It is you they are in love with,

A dark sun unaware of its own orbiting planets.
They are the cause of all of it.

Every comet, every lack
Leaves a trail etched across your sky.

And in their eight eyes
Something seemingly whole becomes distorted,

A piece cut out made separate from the rest.
From this gulf appears a war engine,

A bite of venom,
The desire to **** what they can’t.

Darling of judge and jury,
Blame absolves them of all responsibility.

You are the sole carrier of their weakness.
They fill your skin with their nightmares.

Flesh as fruit
Is strictly poisonous,

Bleaching the sheets of the saints.
Now no more –

Like what was found and then lost.

Like what was married and
Soon divorced.

Still, notoriety is a phantom
Floating in cages,

Star player at a masquerade,
Costumed with your own face.
"Monster" can be found in my poetry collection, "Blood for Honey", available at and Amazon.
Marta C Weeks May 2017
Some need rocks
To rest bigotry upon
Look down, feel taller
Or throw at others

Others have no guts
Camp on smiles
Feed on indifference
Rivers of promise
Golden tomorrows

Our country is burning
With horror and loss
Buried in traditions hides
Pits of immorality
Walls of racism

Halls filled with assets
Sit in miles of doubt
On hills of sorrow
Growing with fear

Brother, clinging to fear
Differences and inequalities
Hidden from having
While some take all

Sister, must you hate
Wish to **** hope
Bleaching love with hate
In fear of loss

Driven to please
Hating race or creed
Feeding in lack
Altars of fanatical pride
As if there's no God

Walking shame to blame
Taking sides with captors
Tearing all apart
To make what's not

Life goes forward
Insecurity drains hearts
Feeds souls to saviors
With political lies
Trading guts for greed

Builders of distrust
Sell promises if the power
Hiding cruel minds
Open theirs to close ours

Where is forever in now
Convinced we had choices
Wanting more than not
Lost sight of beyond

Cages of greed
Built by pulpits of avarice
Filled by a Congress
Here now, gone tomorrow

Eternal is only the universe
One minute we are here
Without love, there's no power
And soon we die
Holiness lost

Revised 7/7/2019
[email protected]
(had one of those nights, into morning, when my mind spun words  instead of dreams)
Nigdaw Jul 2019
“Come in and sit down”
said the celluloid voice,
smooth as silk.
Cautiously I stepped
through the TV screen,
to take my place.

“I will show you a world”
it continued,
“That bears no relation
to what you consider as

The air around electrified,
as the set was powered to life.

Beautiful bodies playing on a beach,
running into the foaming sea;
sun ripening skin, bleaching hair;
Then, from nowhere a can appears,
elixir of every surfer, sun worshipper.

Somewhere in the distance
a distinctive throaty roar,
the romantic throb of a Harley;
ridden by a pair of jeans
giving identity to,
some muscular male *****;
A dream of America
and freedom.

Slow moody blues solo
hangs in the air;
a guitar talking to a journeyman,
familiar but not remembered.
Every note sustained, holding breath,
then carried by a riff
from a bottle of bourbon.

Outside the set
beautiful bodies are burning up,
through a hole in the ozone.
(Too many limousines and Harleys)
The alcoholic looks on, wide eyed,
trying to see a way in,
really believing there is one.
Lash Mar 2019
my nap py roots are a natural root to the tree of life.
i dare not damage my sources to the source of light.
afro made all strong and sturdy,
a sprinkle of all that is worthy.
a sign that i am everything and i exist.
stop bleaching out your blackness.
i insist
that you cherish your being like you cherish material possessions
& feed into obsessions of your ego that knows of nothing else.
only mirrored image self,
detrimental to your health.
only focused on appearances and features.
beauty industry focal points
with tutorial teachers.
influencers influenced by ingenuine sources,
no natural resources.
your reign has been challenged.
may the best man be exalted.
Aleta Marshall Jul 2019
I'm sitting here alone again...
thinking of you..
This wine not working as it used to..
not as numbing as it used to be...
Trying to keep my mind from wondering...
to where you are, trying to be free...
Maybe another glass will do the trick..
or did I tell myself that the last trip?..
I'm going to regret this in the morning...
but, I can sleep in, till the pain fades away
from my head, my body...
These grapes are tasting sour on my lips...
but, I still can't stop thinking about you..
your vision not getting any pailer..
the naught in my stomach feeling like...
it was tied by a drunken sailor...
I've been told all my life these feelings I have..
will fade away, they'll not last long....
Why did I listen to them?..
They were so wrong...
Their like jackals, pulling at me..
until I start to tear...
trying to stuff me into a mold...
only pretending to care...
I feel that I've been left behind..
like bones bleaching in the sun..
And then I think of you...
I find myself not wanting to run...
Fill my glass with your soul..
and let me drink you up..
become my fine wine here in this cup..
Intoxicate me.
For the someone that opened my heart and my eyes.
Ben Apr 2019
“An effect, mamillian.”
A young rat removed for hours,
Allowed bleaching.
What happens?
Written 16/04/19
Egaeus Thompson Jan 2017
M covered in blood and attempting to roll a cigarette throughout but failing utterly.

M: Blood dries much quicker than you think. It is hell on cotton and wool blends, but once it's dried on the skin, you can either chip it off or just rub it off, so that's cool. (beat) You know, after a while you start to be able to smell if someone is anemic. It's crazy, I know, but when the metallic perfume entertains the thought processes for so long, you tend to notice when something changes...

M realizes he is divulging too much and snaps out of it.

M (contd): I always feel like a greasy kebab at times like this. Maybe it's something in the electric meat shaver thing that just evokes memories of drunken nights and mysterious bruises acting as battle scars, compared between those who saw, and those who pretend they had. (beat) I feel a kind of aggressive nostalgia for those debaucherous days. I would do anything to be still under that one, singular light source, barely being able to stand due to the altered states, blacking out Blake's eyes and standing so close to him, that with the right music we would be sharing a slow dance. The air was thick and Miss Love bleaching her hair in the sink provided the perfect musings of life and love. We stumbled. We laughed. We fell. Now only I stumble. I pretend to smile. And they fall. They all fall. When I am King, you will be first against the wall.

M again realizes he is going too far and dials it back

M (contd): Some people suggest that human meat would taste similar to pork because of the similarity of blood supply and flesh density, blah blah blah. They're wrong. It's more like veal all over, but that really depends on how latent the person is, and where the meat is cut from. And who was the idiot who said the Chianti would pair well with liver?! ******* idiots. Too fatty. I wonder if the new 'Mock The Week' episode is up yet. Torrenting is a crime, I get it, but who pays for anything any more anyway? Imagine going to jail for video piracy! (laughs) God, like sharing a cell with a ****** or gang member or something, and you're there because you don't have Foxtel and you want to watch 'Game of Thrones'.

M finally decides to drop the facade of small talk and just be real*

M (contd): I'm not... normal. People don't often walk the streets covered in their neighbour's families blood. But if I take out my phone and pretend to be talking about how exciting tonight's costume party was, eyelids usually aren't battered. Normal people are too trusting.
Onoma Mar 2019
Saturday took me down--

its same new name,

along side streets that

pressured their points of

drop dead quietude.

the lingering frictous of streets

that butcher stillness--now hanging

on the words of birds.

breaking sounds against the

hard noses of houses, marred familiar

to the row.

a neighborhood's mazey trace--

of the sun's continual origin.

the bleaching wash of bodies

breaking out of winter, a stride

looser than yesterday.

as a bike riding a man so full of

consideration--he could burst namelessly.

just for This Saturday.
Brady 7d
i cant hug
so my
heart is blue.
I crave
the womb
the dark jazz
that sprinkles winternight
on rough grass.
i am a bathroom light left on
a bothersome memory
bleaching courage.
everything as weak as this
will fade
everything as soft as this
cant last
RJP Jan 2019
Tomorrow never comes.
Tomorrow morphs into today, growing tentacles of pressure and deadline slinking round precious time.
Tomorrow is the myth that keeps us going into the hazed purple dark, only to vanish in bleaching daybreak.
Tomorrow is the pipedream we search for in bedsheets, neglecting the canaries of impending doom, the warming abolition of plague civilisation.
Tomorrow seems detached, pushed into the outer orbit like the catastrophic bombs hailing and howling in Syria.
Tomorrow hates us today a mongrel race but yearns for yesterday, the tender embrace of tinted times, always better
Tomorrow feels the wound of every hour passing by and sets feet into erratic stuttered taping heart breaking out of caged chest, passive but untamed,
Tomorrow is sitting waiting for all of us, unsure when we're to    arrive, shaking stripped down in a naked hot mess seeing the damage we've done today, fearful of more pillage and ****.
ghost queen Nov 2019
You ask why I am anxious, why i am depressed, let me list for you the reasons why:

Global warming
Melting glaciers
Polar vertices
Category 6 hurricanes
F5 Tornadoes
Wild fires
Snowless winters
Ice free arctic
Antarctic ice shelf collapse
Greenland glacier melting
Perma forst thawing

Ocean warming
Ocean acidification
Coral bleaching
Sea level rising
Coastal erosion
Over fishing
Fisheries collapse
Plankton extinction
Fertilizer run offs
Chemical pollution
Raw sewage dumping
Red algae blooms
Vibrio explosions

Ozone layer depletion
Lack of fresh potable water
Acid rain
Top soil depletion
Dead soil
Banana palm tree cultivation
Evasive species
Urban sprawl
Insect apocalypse
Animal extinction
Lower biodiversity
Bird apocalypse
Bee apocalypse
Bat apocalypse
Amphibian apocalypse

Aging nuclear power plants
Superfund sites
Radioactive contamination
Three mile island, Chernobyl, Fukushima
Endocrine disrupters
***** count collapse
Effeminization of men

Noise pollution
Light pollution
Chronic stress
Metabolic diseases
Over eating

Drug resistances
New and emerging diseases
Epidemics pandemics
Swine and bird flu
Genetic modification
Biotech tech
nano tech
genetic testing
Designer babies
Aging population
Health care rising
Unaffordable medications
Medicare of all
Medical bankruptcy
Social security bankruptcy

Rise of terrorism
Rise of extremism
Far right
Alt right
Lack of education
Masculine identity crisis
Emasculation of men
Decline of boys
Rise of girls

Increasing depression and anxiety
Increase anxiety depression among young girls
Lack of human connection
Social isolation
Social awkwardness
Snowflake generation
Disintegration of the family
Social media addiction
**** addiction
Drug addiction
Alcohol addiction

Lack of equality
Political corruption
New American aristocracy
Too big to fail
Privatize profits, socialize losses
Decline of democracy
Religious extremism
Religious tension
Political divisiveness
National unity
Second American civil war
Helplessness of the common man

Big data
Data protection
Internet tracking
Lost of privacy
Artificial intelligence
AI white collar job lost
AI automation
AI back office
Autonomous AI
5G supremacy
Quantum computer supremacy
Virtual reality
Augmented reality
Off shoring
On shoring

Over education
Under employment
Skills gap
3rd world immigration
La reconquista
Cultural dilution
Status quo
Declining economies
Housing crisis
Housing cost
Full employment
Race relationships
Increasing crime
Student loans
Credit card debt
High mortgages
7 year car loans
Inverse yield curve
52 week high

Military interventions
Social uprisings
Dwindling resources
Resources conflicts
Rare earth metals
Depletion of helium
Peak oil
Water wars
Climate refugees
A list of worries people face today that is causing anxiety and depression
Lydia Sep 2018
Yesterday I came home mad
I had the house to myself
so I went to my room
and packed a bowl
I decided to clean the bathroom
because for me,
cleaning is therapeutic
I took a hit and then scrubbed the sink
I took a hit then cleaned the toilet
I took a hit and then cleaned the mirrors
I took a hit and scrubbed the bathtub
I took a hit and swept the floors
the bathroom I stood in smelled like bleach
I felt better
burning and bleaching the days gunk away
Savonte May 2019
Were I to bathe myself in bleaching cream
Until I reached the other side of the complexion spectrum,
Were I to tame my ***** hair and grow it
Until it looked presentable
Were I to remove all traces of my roots
To disown my family and my black girl magic
Were I to do all this- insult my Creator by denying the beauty of diversity
Would they finally see me as a human being with dignity?
Would I finally be considered pretty?
Would life be fairer, and I happy?
Would I tell the rest of my kind to give up the fight for acceptance,
And come and join me-
Come and join me on the other side?
CMP Dec 2019
i still think about this stuff,
count to infinity but still
it's not enough.

i close my eyes,
shake my head,
my brain twirls around like an etch-a-sketch.

if only i can clear these thoughts from my mind.

there was a moment,
a world turned black and white,
from neon lights.
bleaching all the colors from the road and sky.

but it's alright.
i cannot care tonight, i don't have time,
but i can't say i didn't try.
read as if it were a song passed down for years, which no one quite remembers the words to but everyone agrees ought to be continued.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.when it comes to certain issues, i have enlarged pupils with a lost iris ring, some whiteness of the eyeball... and? ****** in my eyes.

so... wait a minute... wait a minute...
you... want to bleach myself?
somehow, magically forget where
i was born?
forget my mother-tongue -
even though, i speak your tongue,
better than, some of
the migrants you're defending,
primarily focusing on skin color?!
you're mad... just like my neighbor...
who rudely "asked" me...
is... this... the ******* king
of England addressing me?!
i thought so...
you don't get to tell me...
     the following newspaper
articles reads:
   only 8,713 A-level students took
French this year...
     in 1996 (22,718)...
and P.E. of this year?
        what sort of post-colonial power...
doesn't at least pursue a...
"schizophrenia" of bilingualism,
with at least one
post-colonial ally...
like France, or Spain?!
     lazy English ***** think their
society will run, "better"...
if i somehow do a hee-hee
of a Michael Jackson bleaching
and somehow, learn amnesia,
of forgetting my native tongue...
not gonna happen!
        you learn French!
how's that?!
      you dictate elsewhere...
how about you take the time
and effort to teach your former subjects
your language...
and i?!
i will teach you... TACT!
  because you've clearly forgotten
your excellence in exercising it!
   imagine your father,
working for a construction
industry... and a site manager
starts calling him at 9pm...
you do know...
  that work-calls, past 5pm...
are illegal in, of all places, Germany?!
the English have forgotten their
prime attire... of tact...
less tux and more tact...
do the English even know that it's illegal
to make work-focusing phone calls
outside of the sensibility of
the 9-to-5 schematic?!
no... of course not...
the women can't cook pasta...
over-cook it, or under-cook potatoes...
but sure as **** they love,
"working"... work in their sleep...
   wait for office phone-calls at 9pm...
so efficient in their prescribed
allocation timing...
    that's not... "WORK"!
the English, we can thank...
have perfected PROCRASTINATION.
destiny berry Mar 2019
i’ve always wondered what makes Destiny..
perhaps it is the dark shadows pressed into the sides of her face known as cheekbones.
the blotchiness of her skin.
that “cute little” dimple that runs down her chin.
the two very different shades between her face and neck that everyone points out.
“gotta be easy with the bleaching creams sis”..
sure because why not aspire to look like Lil’ Kim, right? *******.
the way one side of her nose is slightly longer than the other.
the dents in her top lip.
the discoloration around her mouth from the breakouts of an annoying skin condition called eczema.
those ****** dark chocolate eyes.
maybe the stubborn eyebrows who refuse to claim each other as sisters, or even cousins for that matter.
the acne scars on her shoulders from too much sun.
her too wide of a “button nose”.
the bold jawline given to her by her daddy.
the shape of oversized freckled lips given to her by her momma.
the prominent collarbone given to her by Indian ancestors.
every feature (whether it be uneven, crooked, discolored, blotchy, too big or too small) is perfectly imperfect & molded by the hands of the Almighty.
after years and years of practicing patience and acceptance to love herself again, i’ve come to realize that this is what makes Destiny.

- d.berry
Gabi Trevino Oct 2018
There once was beauty beyond belief
In far north Queensland’s barrier reef
Beneath the surface of the sea
There lay a world of fantasy

Amid the shallows of the deep
Countless crustaceans crawled and creeped
A place so different from the land
Until it was touched by humans hand

Now polluted by plastic sedimentary and decay
Has our only solution been washed away
Once a wondrous landmark to behold
Gone in a heart beat, the oceans tale, told

Although there a politicians that still deny
A warming ozone will bid the coral colours goodbye
Littered white graveyards accomplished the sin
If only we had thrown our ******* in the bin

A tremendous story of ecological distress
Hopefully we can learn from this disastrous mess

— The End —