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ALesiach Jul 2019
Honeysuckle scenting the warm summer night
Getting drunk on sweet old apple wine
Crickets chirping their melancholy tune
Rocking on the porch beneath the wandering moon

Soothing sounds of the bayou flowing
Warm breeze from the south winds blowing
Whispering through the leaves calming
Winking fireflies light up the night glowing

The tinkling of wind chimes off in the distance
Smell the moss from cypress trees, tall and twisted
Click-ety clack, click-ety clack
Faint sounds of a train coming down the track

Haunting strains of a Cajun lullaby fill the air
Splash in the bayou birds scatter everywhere
Slowly drifting in and out of sleep
While the long blue bayou shadows creep

ALesiach © 07/01/2017
bones Jul 2014
''click-ety-clack
don't look back
click-ety-clack
don't look
don't
don't
don't''
the chanting carriages
stutter through the
blue knots of steel-
house-lane junction
trying to remember
their lines before
we vanish
down tunnels
stuffed with depth
thick enough to
touch; I unwind,
unravel, shuffle past
Mr Allsmiles
stretch my bones
and muscles back
into a less shocking
relationship and
rock toward the
corridor filled
with cold echo
spilling through the
open windows
like a cave
breathing out; damp
walls swing close
and away again
black with soot,
and other dark
things inches from
my outstretched
hand, if I bellow
through this window
...........
if I bellow
through this window
at that passing
wall of alcoves
my voice will become
another echo
in its history
shrinking like
a farewell
wave; ten minutes
behind Staffordshire
Mr Allsmiles
declared his love
for travel
to be borne
of desire for
new places
new faces,
I explained I
travel to leave
both behind.
'Even mine ?' he
joked
'Even yours' I
replied.
'You find pleasure
in arrival and
I in departure
don't....
take it to heart''
but he did
and he left
and he saved me
the trouble.
Outside is
a big dawn
in a pink and
an orange sky,
we are tearing
a scar through
it's birth
at one hundred and
ten miles an hour
toxic (per)fumes
invade my lungs
tears slide sideways
into my ears,
when it rains
I will wear
pits in my skin
like a pebbledashed
wall I am fifteen
years old,
at this speed
I can barely breathe
but i am flying
faster than
my fear of
a normal life and
...it     ...can't      ...catch        ...me
cynthia Jul 2013
Where your real friends at?
With their fuzzy perspectives
and doubts on how to live
Happily
They turn to you for guidance but in turn
Follow their own misguidance
Blindy
Criticism (self inflicted and onto others) is
only beautiful when it constructs
Dreams of life, liberty and happiness
Destruction leads to ends that are abrubt
Confusion floats in the air as does debris
from this falling tree
Or has it fallen'd?
Let the dust clear and we'll see

Open eyes
Open mind
Open heart
In pursuit of self discovery
Auras collide to construct beauty in us
Taking advantage of love was placed in us
You are welcome if your mind is free
Fullness will only constitute stress
And anxi-ety
Sasha Jan 2018
i want to cry but my tears don't seem to fall. i want to scream but i'm restricted by these four walls. i feel my lips move as i ask for their help. my vocal cords vibrate as i let out these words. but they don't seem to hear me or they would've rescued me from this misery.
wait a moment,
how would they save me from this if they have caused it?
maybe they don't want to hear me
be kind to people
Snehith Kumbla Aug 2016
dear c

forgive me
for forcibly making you
climb the trunk of a coconut tree,

testing how your kind 
fall from a height and
still land on four feet,

clasp palms over eyes,  
watch you walk backwards
comically, tentatively,

for pinning that
batch to your tail,
with the legend,  
"Stop not, cease not,
until the goal is reached."
...you going round the
dining table to
sister's screams,

cutting off your whiskers
to the shortest length,
just to see what we get,

I know in cat heaven,
they are sentencing
me to a cat body,
and you as my human
master, circle of life...

do remember,
the daily fish feast,
lick-lick-ety milk,
head brushing,
under chin rubs,
soft fur combing,
sleep pat-purr,

do consider,
that I was a kid,
a storm burst
in my head,
as tingled as a
cat on a cat hunt...
T R S Jun 2018
I bet folks just don't like me:

Ryan Rivière:
hey, kid. DM me if you’d like to lose in either a wit war or an academic war. ready when you are.

Ryan Rivière › take head
Lacks a clear (but a poltroon-like optimism) principality of the nature of nature: nature itself is a bully (take note of the many catastrophic events incurred) and one might argue to the degree which humans are actually less of a bully when personified against nature.

Woody:
A caw-
ing bird
with blunt
-ed beak
and clip-
ped wings
that can’t fly
or sing
worth a lick
-ety split
always
pick-
ing and peck
-ing a-way
at the best
chirp-
ing inside
a chest
-full of
beat-
ing Blue
-birds'
heart-
felt art
-tistic
songs in-
stead
of sing
-ing along
think-
ing it
knows better
than
- the rest?

— The End —