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Ariel Baptista Jan 2015
Four old friends
Dead of winter small town
Germany.
Smoke rising from chimneys
From cigarettes, and pipes
From trains riding the rural rails
From city spires
And factories
From airplanes
Airplanes
and Airplanes,
From Airplanes.
Smoke dancing and laughing
Stinging and coughing
Smoke in my hair and jacket
In the pores of my skin
Smoke in my eyes,
Up the hill
And through the woods
Dead of winter
Small town Germany
Four old friends
Walk two by two
Three by one
Four and four.
Walk by the church,
Down the creek,
Up the hills, the hills
And through the woods
Small town
Germany four old friends
Dead of winter
Cigar smoke and beer
Cigarillos in a chain
Smoke from crystalizing breath
And fireworks
Smoke from bonfires
And tailpipes
Smoke from airplanes
Airplanes and airplanes
Smoke from airplanes.
Smoke stains and cigarette burns
Little circles in my jacket
Germany
Four old friends dead of winter
Small town
Smoke tears
Smoke promises
Smoke memories that linger
Like the faint nausea
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
I watch the **** end of your last cigarette
Crumpled and fading
In the ashtray of that Badischer bar
And your eyebrow twitched
The heart-wrenching shiver
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
And I whispered:
(airplanes)
airplanes and airplanes
I whispered airplanes.
That’s what the hell.
A merging of my experiences and those of a friend.
Megan J Parker Jun 2014
While the flames of passion freeze in your mind,
I’ll be wrapped behind you, cloaked in the sins of the flesh.
Jaded whispers of lustful promises filled with deceitful gazes,
I offer you not sanity, but madness.
Always beside you but never there,
my presence is the churning chaos of scars long lost forgotten.
I play upon your innocence, crushing it in my grasp,
I feed your existence the fermented embryo of society.
Your screams are in vain; I am you: a cocoon manifested from your decayed tears.
A memory surfaces to a mirrored abyss, reaching but never grasping.
Allow the jagged ice to crawl across your skin, inching, creeping, crystalizing a self you once believed in.
I claw at your chest, burning, burning, burning, the existence of your past is frail.
I feed upon your weakness.
Feeding you ******* Sins off Diverged Tongues
Mims Feb 2017
I don't like being alone.
Rays of kitchen light,
Beaming down on lime flavored tortilla chips,
With mild salsa,
That's still,
Too hot!

Or cheap tea,
Flavored with lemon and crystalizing honey,

I do not like being alone,
Stacking,
Molasses cookies,
On my shaky finger tips,

I do not like being alone!
Shaky, shaky,
Three,
Round plates,
Stacked on top of one another,
And I'm not saying I have a standard,
eating disorder,
But when I am depressed,
And,
Alone,
I just,
Don't,
Get,
FULL.

No I don't think I'm fat,
I love my body,
And I'm not over weight,

But my stomach,
Is the new home,
To the black hole in my mind,
It's fine,
I say,

You don't know how many plates today,

And it's not every day,

But I find myself stealing snacks,
The way people steal kisses,

Enjoying meals hot or cold,
Instead of going in the snow,

For if i lept into turning waters,
Like people leap for love,

Or if my mind,
Got that black back,
Transferred from my stomach,
You,
Wouldn't be the only thing crushing.
The best is the last bit.
Jen Nov 2018
Outstretched
And
Exposed
To find
Yourself
In
The
Chasm.

Displaced
Consciousness
As if
A Phantom.

Holding your soul,
Close to your body.

Rolling
Into
A Cocoon
Of
Newly
Spun
String.

Rolling, rolling, rolling...
To where?

Towards
Undetectable
Cosmos.

Unending,
Then crystalizing
Over sudden sunsets,
Infinitely,
Across the horizon.

Moving towards
Abstractions
Faster,
As concrete
Fails to set
Within them.

Swept up
On the stairwell
Of a helix,
Waiting to
See where
It ends.

Caught up
In the never-ending
Space of Obscurity
That sometimes seems
Forbidden.
This poem might not appear to make sense at first.  It came to me as a visual image that suddenly popped into my head as I was thinking about how I feel about a life situation that I've struggled with for a while. It actually has dual meanings as after I wrote it some subcontious thoughts also surfaced.  I've heard poetry is good therapy and believe it. So the inspiration came as the sun started to go down as it does now at 4pm.  I was thinking about a piece of life, closed my eyes and saw myself exposed and naked laying in a dark, empty space. Then I realize it, and so my entire being rolls itself up in a cocoon for protection to find that my mind is very abstract and struggles in this concrete world, especially around a lot of people who are very concrete and black & white thinkers. It's time to find a new field but it seems like a big leap. Just thoughts and visualizations put to words....
Harper Oct 2012
The Quantum anthem sets off the spark of enchantment as I file through things only thought
All borrowed and blurred belligerence baffling beauty, things only sought.
Spiraling sickens the surging of those who surrender their sudden sorrow for meaning to flutter.
Herds of things unheard splurge in cinematic combs fastened by fertility
Charred remembrances burn deep as feelings bleed
Bursting boundless solidifying into expression
Without it battles of head and heart oppression
Redirecting rising ripples focused forward
Onward and steady swaying as my doubt is fading
Curtains close the colossal conundrum crystalizing in my veins
Setting off distant delirium  
Honeycomb harbor home
We are not alone
We are not alone
Solaces Feb 1
(Is there an emotion for mystical? I suppose it would be to be mystified. Perhaps awe is the word I am looking for.  I was in awe at the sight of him! I was beyond mystified!)

It started in the Yellow Wastelands.  Where life went to die.  As life dies there, they become a part of the Yellow Wasteland adding to his spread and growth becoming a sort of crystalline lattice.  All go willingly to the crystalline whisper. The whisper in recent theory emanates from the shining yellow crystals that grow among the Yellow Wasteland like blue bonnets in the Texas spring.  Once the Whisper is heard the victim willingly partakes in what we call The March. The March is a mindless saunter to The Yellow Wasteland where upon arrival they lay in the yellow dirt and slowly begin crystalizing. We have tried stopping The March. But have been unsuccessful for many years.  During the state of the march the victim gains a strange, extraordinary ability to control others as they see fit. If one or a group of people, try and prevent the march they will be controlled by the whisper to put the victim back on track.  The final equation that we cannot solve is why one hears the whisper.  There seems to be no pattern whatsoever.

On this day my daughter heard the whisper. We walked with her for hours on end.  My wife and son followed shortly behind whilst I walked beside her talking about memories and music.  My son then caught up and started to play his lute. He played song after song and sang beautiful lyrics that they wrote together.  My wife would then catch up to fix our daughters hair and clean her face as we walked and walked toward The Yellow Wasteland.  There were times where we would walk all together in a line and pray and pray.  

Over the Wolf's crossing trail was a hill. The hill was now called.
" The Last Ascend."    The Yellow Wasteland can be seen below.  We started the ascend up the last ascend.  Tears flooded all our eyes as we were powerless to stop The March.
Toward oblivion.
J Sep 2011
Meandering through the billowing trees
A cold, almost winter sky coats the forest in a haze
Fallen branches and withered grass
Crunching beneath my feet with every small step

Your ghost fills me like a flood
Every breath, crystalizing my lungs

I can feel you
I can hear your sullen whispers blowing past the trees with the wind
I can smell the distinct scent of your skin as if you were cradling me in your arms

You are the trees, and the ground
You are the blurred light peeking through the fog
You are love, and you are life
You are here
But nowhere else

I’ll close my eyes
Let me remember the planes of your face
The slight curve at the end of your smile
Let me hear your soft voice
The sound of your sleeping exhale

Time has carelessly erased the memory of you
Leaving only fragments
Mere glimpses into the past
Nothing more
I’ll collect the pieces
Like shards of shattered glass
And keep them close to my heart
Strolling through the wilderness
Only thinking of you
Joanna Oz Jan 2015
if i know but one truth,
it is that our souls
have met many times before,
various forms
of this flower-fairy friendship:
once as moon,
then as sea,
another as towering oak tree and ancient sun beam,
and again as volcanic rock
sprouting a citrine garden
crystalizing daydreams.
we are but
fractal spirals of concentric consciousness
spinning sapphire, rose quartz, and amethyst
through the infinite sands of time.
place your hand in mine
and find that its been there all along,
we've always been singing the same song.
so when you feel your love is far gone,
just hum your melody
and my harmony will fly along,
land on your shoulder,
and softly remind
that my heart rests in yours,
that our spirits are intertwined,
eternally dancing
to music of laughter
and heartbeats.
and though this moment
is fleeting,
though our path unsure,
the tranquility
of traversing this tome with you
of frolicking through forests
and peeling glue
off of our third eyes
to gaze at glorious
galaxies of possibilities
that lay waiting at our feet,
brings untold peace.
my dear purple sweet,
you are the stars above
and the river below,
a bolt of lightning
the vibration of ohm.
and wherever you may go,
always know
that the light you share
will return tenfold,
and that my love will be with you
to have and to hold.
Ellis Oct 2021
Crawling out of my mouth from whence it peeks out from under my tongue
The teeth bite with metal sound upon the spoon
Slipping in my stomach the slime
I decline the double bent fingers you lend
Hearts wretched cavity lying in my throat
A gnawing grip at my temples unable to free last night’s tears
The clink of teeth and spoon grinding at each others hard skin
Shrink from my eyes the blur of the past year
Tempest toss screaming from inside my brain
blue white radiance gleamed violence and heat
scorching undeserving thumbs from sad hunched men
In Dark Rooms they count down the time
Until their lover’s friends reach immutable verdict
Guilty of High Crimes Cried In Unison
By testimony of your heart
I sentence thee to fractured living and eternal wandering
For the **** of emotions and time
Never to feel passion or intimate soft hands
Tilt your face to the ground for the light does not touch you
Bring your knees broken on hard pavement
I feel your loss
Blood filled stuffed animal
Bleed out of ego
Falling out of your body
Hands Clasped together and heads touching
Clear that the abuse comes from my white knuckles
Now twist your spine ten-fold
Living in hypocrisy the mirror says
I know not the right path
Leave me be as my unhuman person
Feeling for the oozing viscera out my pores
Claws mark me into confusing messes
Snap the connection
The Black blackens against the brackish water
Wading further down the sand grips at my heart
Crystalizing it so that It may be transfixed into something
living.
First, there was the air
then, she came along
with turquoise winter cover,
hands covered with
snow white gloves
- wearing a smile,
leaving the footprints
behind

Cold wind came silently,
playing with
blankets of snow,
covering sparkling sight
and blew,
blew

It was silent,
chill and bright,
- a moment mixed
with desire,
and the wind blew,
crystalizing site
in a blue,
dazzling ice
A falling star
Seen in the nights sky
Blazing bright to dim
a wish  was made
My heart is gone
He reached in
Removed it
a wish was made
Tears come out as blood
Crystalizing into snow
The first taste upon my tongue
a wish was made
A book read too many times
The ending never changed
Thrown into the fire
a wish was made
Looking into the abyss
His eyes so dark
My soul sighs
*a wish became
I WISH, I Wish, i wish....
The Fire Burns Sep 2016
crystalizing thoughts in the minds cloud
the muse casts the seeds and forms drops
the words fall like rain onto the page
Courtney O May 2018
My wound starts bleeding at 10
The ecstasy, the pain
A dramatic withdrawal
leaving side effects everywhere
You left a hole in me
You are no good to me
But it is so intense I cannot think

When you come close to me
it's intoxicating
if you catch me off my guard
I get lost

do you remember emotional ******?
do you remember me obsessed
do you remember us?
the girl like a rose in a vase

And when you come close it feels odd
because you've never been here
it is a brutal inversion of the order of things
It feels like going too deep, into the spiral of being
You and I - we will never be
but ah, the shadow of what could and never is...

It is something big that makes me smile
but it's a speed i am not used to drive
it feels like coming to a home lost time ago
so much it is not your home anymore

Untidy pestilent mind after all this
I went too far, digging with words into me

Trauma crystalizing, too much I've lived
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2021
Patience in the pass of time
Resurrects the need of mine
To ponder why, the where, the when
Mankind's courage tends to bend.
Be it in the space of fear
When a threat, perhaps, is near,
Be it in when a smarter man
Outwits with a sharper plan?
What the odds when she who smiles
Condescends our lesser wiles?
Painful should we all rescind
To insecurity's foul wind.

Why the quickened, racing pulse
As faster challengers convulse?
When hesitation in the heart
Circumvents the courage part?
Where that moments damning pause
Kills legality's last clause?
A gathered sweat on worried brow
Nervous twitching reveals, now,
Courage fled on wings of steel
Crystalizing what is real...
Hollow symptoms, (plain to me),
Timidity's complicity!.

M.
18 July 2021
I see more and people standing back, not wanting to get involved while
the heavies walk all over them. Timidity seems contagious in that most won't stick their neck out and back themselves. Whatever happened to the pride engendered by a performance involving courage and self respect?
Whatever happened to self esteem?
The Fire Burns Aug 2017
Fog and haze,
create a maze,
ever-changing in the breeze,
want to know? just ask the leaves.

A ship with no rudder or sail,
adrift and at the whims of the current,
seeing where it will travel,
enjoying the experience.

Prowling the oceans clear blue,
from bottom to top and ranging far,
looking for love and food,
with little else in mind.

With just a sip or two,
crystalizing emotions,
as the amber fluid,
jailbreaks my tongue.

X Y Z axis locations,
changing at my command,
thinking outside of 2 dimensions,
allowed outside the boxes boundaries.

With the beat of wings,
from the cage, I fly,
circling the moon,
and penetrating the clouds.

Clearing a space,
to soar,
aloft under the stars,
on the edge of space.
Delton Peele Feb 2021
Half melted
***** snow
Crystalizing
As last spatial light like a laughing
Coyote
Runs
Drunkardly
In short jagged
Bursts
Stops slowly looks back
And smiles
Peruses me
In a defiling
Way
You had no intentions
Of loving
Me
Soon after you
Beguiled me
Severed my ties
From everything
Dear to me
Peeling my skin
With acidic lies
And then when
I needed you
Desperately
......
You wet me
Up
Tainted
Me
With your

Sickningly sweet venom
your comforting words
In
Plain view
You
Scooped straight from the septic
Sadistic
Its so clear to me now
Yet i still dont know how
Your magic
Filled me
Giving me almost supernatural
Power
I would have
On a whim
Conquered
The world for you
Instead
You secretly
Forced yourself in side me
And layed a brood of eggs
A layed contently
Watching as you stories of woe
Incubated
And snickerd
As the hatch broke free
Muscle and sinue
Popping and cracking
And the sounds of pockets of air
Difficulty
Moving though
Liquid
As they devoured
Still i continued
To love you
The whole while
Mortally
You wounded me
Portraying the one trying to save me from me
Quietly telling
Everyone im in therapy
You belicose *****
You are not my
THERAPIST
You are in fact
THE ******
You actually took pleasure
In torturing
Literally
Got off on waterboarding
Me with
Costic
Love
Like
Dung covered
Tines
On a rusty
Pitch fork
The instant
Your ivory fangs
Pierced the nap of my neck
I felt poisened
The waters from you mouth
Leaching in
Teaming with
Sour worms
Causing violent
Spastic fits
You orchestrated
La pobré nîna
Flipped the script
I was out did
Left questioning
My memory
For
Ive been abandoned
Caught in your live trap
And acted burdened
Dragging my carcass still breathing
To the middle of
Nebraska
Bereft me of my clothes
Took a moist meat hook and hung
Me
Walking away i heard you *******
For days
Feeling the dank bitter
Breeze
Stinging
Unimpeded
By the endless
Fallowed fields of yesterday dreams
And tomorrows
Sorrows
Dangling
The last ugly
Gourd
Left on this leafless vine
Hollow
I alone
Know the truth
iconoclastic
I hold the golden key to the most important mystery
....crestfallen. ....
Dejected
Outcast
And sullen
No one wants
To know
Public
Ememy
No 1
...........
........

Me
...

..


.
sandra wyllie May 2022
laying in shards of glass
greying and hard en masse
scattered as autumn leaves
crackling crimson underneath men’s feet

billowing gusts of dust *****
lolling in trees where critters crawl
crystalizing as snowflakes
blanketing tongues and cherry face

set as dewdrops on emerald blades
or beads of sweat on humid days
hailstones that ping-pong off cars
ashes that fall from smoked cigars

painting an azure sky in a mosaic
can’t say that these pieces aren’t prosaic!
an artist’s touch brings them to life
making them shine in the spotlight

— The End —