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English Jam Mar 2018
[Part the First]

There's some giddy, childish sensation
The hope of a new generation

Faceless cameras war for my voice
A flashing ocean of stomps and shoves
Taken from me is my choice
Given is a false sense of love
They smile too wide to be true
Contorted and stretched, like some plastic
But they're all I have before the blue
So deep breaths, and then come dramatics

People who pass me by
Don't seem to realise
The emptiness of the sky
When they look into my eyes

They ask:
Is it lonely up in space?
Is it a cold, abandoned place?
Is it bright amongst the stars?
Do you know who you really are?

[Part the Second]

My life has faded to drunken thoughts
Reality doesn't confirm what can't be bought

The multicoloured psychedelia
Of nebula turning to rainbows
Now looks more fake than ever
And so my sanity goes
There's a beast out there, lurking
I'm not sure if it wants me
But my hope is hiding, sulking
From the abyss that can hear and see

The worst way to die is alone
Where there's no one who can help me
As my punishment destroys my home
At least, from my memory

They screech:
It's so lonely up in space
It's a cold, abandoned place
It's too bright amongst the stars
I think I'm dreaming too far

[Part the Third]

The faintest echo of laughter
Presents itself as my only answer

It's distant, like someone drowning in ecstasy
But it rings from the walls to my ears
The effect of the starry-eyed seas
Has mutated into whimpering fears
I know I'm not amongst the stars anymore
But the damage cannot be undone
So I gave myself to the floor
I could lie here, and never see the sun

Space could've never actually existed
Just a vivid fantasy of escape
But my mind has been so twisted
It must've been the cruelty of fate

They wonder:
Was it lonely up in space?
Was it a cold, abandoned place?
Will the stars ever forgive?
Do I still have a life to live?
I'm watching my every single step
I'm careful not to stumble and fall
One stone on the road
could lead to a landslide
And one broken bone
could ruin it all
I'm watching my every single move
I'm careful not to scare you away
The faintest blow
could lead to a hurricane
And one wrong word
could be the last thing I say.
I never knew where I had you.
James Keplinger Sep 2018
My heart has been torn and sewn
I'm in pain but soon it'll go far away
Just not now when you leave me alone
When you leave all my heart astray

I see all my future with you
Love, a wedding, maybe a child too
You cheer me up with the faintest smile
Why couldn't you stay a little while?

I hope you don't plan on leaving
Who am I without you?
I know my tears can be deceiving
I'd be nothing without you

I love you
AprilDawn Sep 2014
Our solar lamps  
plead for more sunshine
as they die 
 in the middle of dinner
every night
even  in this  stark Texas
  late afternoon light
        all the while
I can still
get a beastly burn
the faintest suggestion
of Fall
wafts through
the chilled
grocery store air
with frothy pumpkin lattes
maybe if I stare long enough
at the neighbor’s
front porch
loaded with  gaudy gourds
I can almost
trick myself
into feeling
My years in Houston  , 2002-2006 and the fake feeling of traditional northern  Fall  with  that weird dichotomy of pumpkins and palms in still hot weather.Finished poem today.
Nicholas Mar 13
Scattered across my bedroom floor,
glimmers of light staccato on wilted rose pedals

Memories of us, 
the faintest slapback of the person I was with you,
flicker with lethargic buoyancy 

Fondness for fondness sake,
denial as a delicacy

Your face, obscured in these floral polaroids
Impressions of who you were;
what you meant to me,
a struggle to behold
but recognizable in ripples across the faces of others

Remains of an entanglement that seemed to answer
why the universe was even formed to begin with

This omnipresent truth laying abed the other
jagged reality of our affair;
it was never you,
it was my self-possessing pursuit of wholeness
Musings on the idea that love can be a very selfish act and that, in it's absence, we sometimes look back on a former relationship, not because we still love or miss that person, but because we love/miss the way that person made us feel about ourselves.
Kassiani Nov 2010
I always suspected electricity
Ran rampant through my veins
To make me dazed and dizzy
But unable to sit still
It made me prone to flights of fancy
So I left giddy trails of sparks
Blazing proof of my restlessness
That once brightly caught your eye

Once your gaze had found my own
My moods came in swooning flares
And you crackled alongside me
Filling my aching, empty silence
With shiny, blessed noise
We burned so beautifully
With my electric fire
And your trilling declamations
Light and sound intertwining
Like thunder that had finally caught up with its lightning

It seemed like Nature's order
A completion of the whole
Two halves that followed each other
Unthinkingly and automatically

So one day when I found silence
It felt like Earth itself was splitting

Panicked, I burned more brightly
Stoked the fire just in case
I feared that I had dimmed
And been the cause of this new quietness
So when I still heard nothing
I thought my efforts insufficient
And I ran my highest currents
Until my wires nearly melted
Thinking the sun and I were comparable
And anticipating a response

And still I heard no trilling
No crackling at my side
So I wondered if perhaps
I had shined beyond your limits
Swiftly, I contracted
Reined in my flares and doused the fire
Thinking sudden darkness
Might just shock you into sound

I finally heard the faintest popping
Not quite the rending that I wanted
But a break from quiet all the same
Afraid of spoiling the moment
I leashed my electricity
Kept myself dim so I could hear you
Though I felt the writhing beneath my skin

It finally became unbearable
So I flashed like wild lightning
Lashed out and struck the ground
Hoping for your thunder
A dark and roiling storm
Swirling raindrops and clouds colliding
And deep, **** noise

All I wanted was your thunder
But in the end
It was only me yelling
Screaming out for downpours
Listening to my own echoes
Waiting for you to harmonize

In the end
I was always waiting
Wondering when you'd chosen silence
Wondering why I'd let you dim me
Wondering how it was we'd ever *burned
Written 5/22/10
Kenya83 Feb 18
I remember you as you were in the heatwave
Cool and light with intrigue
Wide eyed and open soul
And words, words of a man, trials of a man but spirit of a boy
A fire child who found joy in the simplicity of the sun
A softens to your frame, and wave in your hair, like even numbers
The faintest grey lavender fields surround us as the city falls at your feet
I notice your eyes, every time, I notice your eyes
stefan badham Dec 2017
they gathered
near the castle
well not too near
to interfere
they gathered
for the chance
of a glimpse
of their masters
of their betters
they stood
in the cold
waiting for a fragment
a tiny piece
of approval
from their masters
from their betters
then they arrived
their masters
their betters
and went silently past
with the faintest of nods
toward their inferiors
toward their subjects
their servants
who without question
know their place
who enjoy
knowing their place
well here's something from me
your majesty
a **** and mud pie
right in your ******* eye
no **** should ever be kissed except mine,  and certainly no royal one
There casts a lilt of light
      out past horizon's reach
Standing ankles wet against eternity
Feet transfixed in dusky shells
      the souls of this pearl beach

She calls the faintest whispers
      above skin and wave and gull
Beyond a length of swim or tangle of kelp
Beyond a barge a ship
      or barnacled tanker's hull

I cast her back this ribbon of line
      and skip to her a stone
That sinks beneath my depths of breath
The salty wind that moves my will
     my feet my skin and my bone
Abbigail Jan 2014
I can’t help but wonder if you still have tucked away all the letters and the notes and the list of reasons why I loved you.
I wonder where you left the guitar strings that I gave you for your wrist
I thought I saw them in a picture of you,
the one with the girl.
I could be wrong.

I think about the things I wrote to you and wonder if you’ve ever looked at them again
And felt the warm singe of pain when you read the words that we meant
when we were naïve enough to think that we were different.

I wonder if I still cross your mind when you scoop ice cream
Because you know how I hate skimpy scoopers.
Or when you find a hair on your arm that's freakishly longer than the rest,
if you wish I was there to pull it out.

Sometimes I think of your mom
And I wonder if she kept my picture, the one she kept on the mantle right beside yours.
What did she do with my Christmas stocking?
I can’t help but wonder if it’s been passed on to your new girl
And I don’t know if they’ll watch West Side Story together,
If she’ll enjoy it the way I did.

I imagine you never thought twice
When you came across a hair still on your pillow, or the faintest of my scent
Or my bobby pins on your bedroom floor.

I remember finding the bobby pins and hair binders of other lovers
when I came back to you for the last time.
They were scattered across your carpet like cruel reminders of all the other heads
that lied in the bed that was always mine.
I wonder if she ever finds mine and feels the same.
Probably not.

I imagine you’ll reread that book someday,
The one I got you in high school when you went through your philosophical phase.
And I wonder if you’ll notice the inside cover where I wrote “I love you”.
I’d always thought there was something special about a book with an inscription.

I remember sitting there for a long while, trying to think of something heartfelt
to say to you,
But all I could manage was “I love you”.
Maybe that’s because I knew that anything else I felt for you would have an expiration date
And I’d wonder if you’d read it when I was gone, and those words wouldn’t be true anymore.
Or not to you.
But I think of you reading it now and it won’t seem silly because it will
always be true.
For both of us, I think.

I think about the time when I first moved to your big city
And I got lost in your neighborhood and I saw you from my car.
You were walking right towards me.
I drove away as fast as I could and I couldn’t breathe or talk or smile.
Did you see me too?
I looked in my rearview mirror, and you never looked back as I drove.
I wanted so badly for you to move away.

I can’t help but wonder if you wonder
About your drawings and your notes and the music you showed me and if I still listen to it.
I do.
If I still wear my black pants that made you go crazy
or if I refuse to listen to The Joker, despite my favorite song lyric of all time,
because it reminds me of the time on your uncle's dock
When we decided we needed a song but we were both too drunk to think of anything sentimental.

I wonder if you imagine a bittersweet feeling coming over me
when I hear the Bee Gees and think of you singing in your Elmo voice,
Or if i ever find myself recalling one of your "facts of the day" and wondering where I learned it.

******, I hope you wonder.
nadine Jul 2018
a distinct feature
in my appearance
would be
the bags under my eyes;

i remember staying up
until my bones quiver
under the bewitching spells
of the moon’s forgotten raving sonatas,
enticing enough to cradle
an iota of dejected sentiments
from centuries and centuries ago.

i remember looking up
at the night sky
until my eyes flicker from dust to ashes,
burning the crevices of every wall i built,
graveyards broken down
to match the unmatched
bleakness of the ignominious sorrow
peeking out of the corner of your soles.

i remember laying down,
not once had silence became overbearing
that i could hear the faintest brush
of a weightless feather falling
from a tainted nest,
aching to meet its pernicious lover.

i remember closing my eyes,
shifting everything elsewhere;
still, i dread the feeling of compunction
emerging deep from
the landmines of mistakes
that i had claimed as my home
and my shelter.

but this, i could never forget:
i remember
being envious of you;
how you do not
lay awake at night,
wondering if things
could have been better.
i still love you (always)
Oh, how my life
is poured out for you.
All my veins I would bleed dry
for my love of you is the life of my soul
and without you
I am only a wisp of vanishing smoke.
Oh, you are all to me
for I cannot even imagine
the faintest thought
of me with out you.
And before I knew your love
love has never lived in my soul.
Oh, you are like some mysterious creature
come from the distant stars
like some Gothic angel
to set your feet
upon this base earth.
Oh, your kiss
takes me to a higher starry realm
where no storm winds blow
and the earth is never covered
by cold and icy snow.
Oh, your love
takes me to a sacred mystic realm
where towers of light
reach like fingers
to embrace the starry heavens
with its soft and warm blackness.
Oh, and your love
forever floats upon the air
like the scent
of all the flowers
that grow upon heaven's shore.
and my heart is filled
to such overflowing
like with the sound of heaven
when all the choirs angels sing.
Oh, how I wish
to never touch this earth again
and to forever live in your kiss
and drink the sweet nectar
that flows from your lips.
Oh, let me live in that heaven
in the house of forever
in your sweet embrace.
for all the forever
that forever can ever be.
My spine tingles and my bones grow weak
I get the chills from every creak
Even the faintest noise makes my heart jump
Faster and faster my heart does pump.

The feeling I speak about is the feeling of fear
It makes reality become quite unclear
They say the only thing to fear is fear itself
But I swear that doll jumped off the shelf.

I have the feeling I’m no longer alone
From the basement I hear a dreadful moan,
Quite unsettling this feeling can be
When I feel there’s someone watching over me
Mysterious like a shot in the dark
Stabs a knife right through the heart
Once you find it run quick turn on the light
While you and your conscious put up a fight.

Trying to figure out what’s real and what’s imagination
My heart’s constant pounding won’t help my frustration
As noises comes closer I don’t linger
But my body freezes from my toes to my fingers,
Frozen still yet ready to run
Tears fall slowly like the setting sun
I fall to the floor and pray that it’s all a dream
No sooner I finish than I echo a scream.
The room races round and round
So dizzy I can’t find the ground
Its’ gotten into my mind and now I’m out of control
It haunts my thoughts and my soul.
Could this be it, could it be the end
Is my demise just around the bend?
Then the garage opens and the car drives in
A relived breath utters, “Fear had me again”.
Read more at http://******-in-oncology
The raindrips are dropping outside for a change,
some way I still feel them draining through my decrepit veins.

Thunderous applause for the storms that wage,
The wars that I've paid for with my strayful ways, day after day.

Come now,
Come play in the swaying waves, forming aside my imminent lines,
The ones that play, and play on,
Playing away,
Bouncing and rebounding around inside my mind(s).

Surely you jest,
None have yet bested me in this,
yes, my skills in being keen to absolutely nothing,
nothing at all...

Tip, typing away,
Fueled by the fires outside this time.
Each of these rampant keys seal away the pains that fray these frail heartstrings.

Filling the gutters with the utterances that speak the futile fightings,
Flying through the air,
With the nimbus lighting my way through the faintest of nighttime scenes,
Hoping these barely discernable dreams are the ones that will get me through the day.

Easing my restless heart with the chaos rains that thunder and pour,
They sway my mind to sleep.

that it will all be over soon,
In one way or another,
or perhaps,
even today.

~Robert van Lingen
Krison Nov 2018
It was of the sand,
That found for me to stake upon this gamble of a purpose.
To onward journey, stout of heart, within it lines to draw and part
and dedicate my time to all that live and then depart.

And subjugate the sin of wait.
Dare i chance alignment.
To spite the constant vein of me.
That of constant bye.

For it was within the sands.
That truth illuminated
Divining is of destruct and of grand endeavor.
Those were lessons I to learn.
Yet warnings seen, but not to heed.

So to venture bold, embark.

Here I found myself about, a place that i not know.
Lacking proper courtesy that guides the proper tongue.
At a time of caving doubt in youth while throwing caution.
Such foolishness and acts so grave with naivete.

So of this, my letting go and future now to grasp.
Then of me to newer name and shed of me my past.

That led me to a village, shambled as it small.
Oh so sharp in all contrast,
To all i'd ever known.

And then to her so small of frame
with trouble trembling.

Did I find, i've much of want and more to givings be.

The hope I find within her eyes.
Those burning eyes aglow.
Yet shaking did i look to see, the grief she held alone.

For she with nails so black and pained
with eyes of sapphires ancient flame.
Screamed, "anne nerde"?

To this I said within my lip.
My English voice that caused such shock.
"hello", and then ,"who, you"?

And puzzled as i've not the faintest
slight that cause her hate
and run away and then dismiss
or understanding me.

That left me to the mighty awe, and my stupidity.

"Am i the image of the anger, she must see everyday,
A reminder there's tomorrow, or of horrors yesterday"?

Faintly nothing can be had, so i had chanced hello.
This is me and who are you.
And her away to go.
So i was lost to all the why,
and all who heard it so.

Then to suspect, short of counsel and left of reason why.
I shatter peace with solace small and and watch you drain your eye.

So to all that spun around
with jaws so slack with shock.
Made of this a curse and huddle?
Of what, they they took of stock?

They must be of the panic.
They must be many dead
And this is now my crucible
and now i know there dread?

" How dare i cause such great alarm? in such fleeting passing
" i said hello, only hello
and then, but"who are you"?.

All but mine
All faces white blood.

And then the moment shock!

For then i heard, "olu"!!!

"For I said, hello and who ," but she heard only death.

And forgiveness in this place
Was shown not least the trace.

Awaken this, the anger, rage  the mighty great temult.

For announced by all around  
"You utter with most care.

This place if of the teetering
and none dare hear dispair."

So please a caution with your greeting.
For broken hearts here tear

And the tokens of your kindness,
Can be swallowed up in here
Its brought to doom, this little girl by violence and it's snare
Was brought to this, by fault of tounge
bignine and shambled care.

Then better us
To purse a lip
And hope the slight be small,
The reaping can be had
But never excise fault
It is of divinty
So pray we judgment halt.
This is of the manner known
Yet are still unseen

For all the slights be large or small
None are are fully owned

And All the workings good of heart
Must be done 
and done discreet.
some of this is in turkish

His words
and tongue
are so warm
and He burns
an altar lit
on fire

His body is perfect
the blood is lurid
and bittersweet

every feature
even the subtlest
tempered to the grace
of nature’s requiem
made with the sole purpose
of temptation
every contour chiseled
with conviction bold

His sepia eyes
in their vintage
with a childlike elation
no longer present
in the cadaver
of a life i’m trapped in

His rose-tinted lips
held in a kind of

bold, sensual, soft
caress but never kiss
i finger his scars
and quietly nurse them

masochism, he wounds
but i want it
regardless of what
it entails

it’s being euthanized
i dare you to **** this
it’s because of
this sordid waltz
of fate and intention
that He’s never around
most of the time

and it’s worth it
it’s ignorance, oh blissful
it’s the pagan’s humble request
i will have this
some of the time?

His fight and fierceness
are unrivaled
like the solace of sleep
to those freezing

addiction, dependence, provocation
i’m washed in the tide
of His everlasting rimy breath
for a second
he reached out
and thawed me
hands interlaced
Our _ embraced

i scent
His body-
the unleavened
doused with
mulled wine
a redolence
of clove, nutmeg, anise
a steady undertone of black currant
and floral, rich sauvignon
the faintest vestige of bergamot
i inhale it all

i run my fingers
through His silken
sable hair

His existence, however,
holds sentiment
incomparable to His heart
there is only Him

He who hears like
the velvet snowflakes

He who lives like
the dark ink

He who smells like
mulled wine

even the quinine
finds itself too bitter
that it may yearn for
to drown
i’ve been going through a lot and this was my way of processing. ty for stopping by.

dedicated to Alison, Lana, Thien, and Tayden
Claudia Oct 2018
That you're gone
Sort of changes
The fundament on which
The entire universe is built

Like someone
Pulled the ground away
Beneath the feet of
The world itself
Or God

Something is fundamentally wrong
You are missed
By every atom


Forever to be tainted by
The hole after you

And I
Haven't the faintest idea
About what to do now

How do you carry on
When the very basics of life
Have changed permanently?
Everything falls apart
At the seams
Josh Jun 9
it's hard to believe
is created,
seeing you, see me
across the lake
years ago,
in another life,
with the faintest light,
the moon made us glow,
when our breaths locked
and our eyes shifted upward,
in perfect unison

I know we can’t,
but do you think we could,
stay here for a while longer?
Michael Marchese Sep 2018
No faintest ray of light
Shines in
Or finds it can
Divine a grin
Above my chin
As darkness seeps into my skin
Wherein the fading joy persists
To fein another day amidst
So many glances skeptically
And questioningly scowering me
Or some don’t seem to care I’m here
Don’t meet my eyes, nor dare I there’s
A stranger in some stranger land
And every night the rains again
Crash down upon this muddy shack
Until my dreams all fade to black
We adore the hour
Of enduring madness
We are crude and cruel
Like tigers in the morning
We are food for the gods
Who stayed too long
And strayed too far
From their solitary pantheons
We are the shadows of Psyche
Tirelessly shorn from our bodies
We are retired armies
These conglomerates of hatred
Fed up with feminine values
We are salivating angst
We are manic depressive virgins
Coercion is comical
This is evil incarnate
Sardonic solitude shrouds You
In it's vision-less vicissitudes
We are used to being used
And fed ignorance like food
We are bored and longing
For some muscles to flex
So we could attest to our problems
I contest your victory
And seek meaning in expression
Anger is reflexive yet still we beg to differ
Our questions rejected
By an authority we entrusted
To naively negate our egos
We collect puzzles and never solve them
We form alliances with psychedelic buffalo
While meditating butterflies chart
Their ancient transmigration patterns
We are pinnacles of virtue in vitriolic prisons
We administer to the needs of the ordinary soldier
We are shouldering too much responsibility
For if you were entrusted with love
Then please don't abuse it
We are bundles of wood
Woven together like fragile tapestries
We are strategies unused
We are moody lovers confused by each other’s apathy
Our lack of touch erupts into violent volcanoes
Spewing fumes in our bedrooms
We are ****** handed
Balancing on our fingertips
While plummeting a thousand feet
To the bottom of endless seas
We are cheap like sheet-rock and shelves
Upended in an earthquake
We are all that we tell each other
We are purely made from stories
Defending our allegorical right to exist
We are so ******* boring
That our own made-up gods
Can do nothing but laugh
At the infinite ignorance of our species
We are a genus of ingenious desperation
Who gave measurement such an important trophy
That we are beyond permanently broken
And can now fatefully begin authentically working
On fixing our sights, minds, hearts
Hands and bodies upon uniting
With our deepest spiritual longing
I gave up stroking my ego a long time before I met you
What’s next will you expect me to beg for your indulgence
We are making amends for the ways
We dissected our reality
It's a tragedy that the objectification of objects
Leads to a such a Complex Elegance:
These isolated sediments are perplexed at our own self-vehemence

What a way to begin
The end of our undoing
Begs for our compassion
We are not allowed to forget
So we go to sleep
And whenever we awake
You immediately take
Our breath away
To protect against
The faintest chance
Or hint of our remembering
JB Claywell Dec 2018
“You tell that man that I’ve no more desire to speak with him than I would the devil himself!”
“You tell that man that I am very upset that he would come in here and interrupt this afternoon’s bingo game!”
“I mean, honestly!”

The administrator of
the nursing home looked at me nervously.
I looked back,
but undaunted.

“I just need information.”

“I need to know if she has any plans to go back home.”
“I need to know that if she does go home, she’ll have the proper equipment and support system in place, waiting for her when she arrives.”

The administrator walked back
toward the facility’s dining hall,
where the bingo game was in full swing.

(The executive whispered into an ear.)

A pair of elderly, cataract-laden eyes rolled,
then glared at me with a hostility that I could feel,
even all the way over by the nurse's station.

“The lady says that she plans to stay with us.”

I nodded, said my thanks, and walked back out into the cold.

This part of the job is always a bit surreal.

It makes me think of my mother.

She was the director of several nursing homes over the course of my youth.

The smells of these facilities is assaultive.

(Industrial cleaning products,
boiled vegetables,
assorted liniments and balms,
the faintest twinge of ***** in the nostrils.)

To me these places smell like memories
that go for long periods,

(School-age summers
spent in supply rooms,
marking supplies,
stacking them neatly,
like troops ready for deployment.)

Often the nursing home
is thought to be a horrendous destination.

I can understand that.

But, she wanted to stay
and I had interrupted the bingo game,
hadn’t I?

Tonight’s supper was roasted chicken,
mashed potatoes,
pickled beets on the side.

(I’d read as I’d entered.)

Maybe her sons and daughters
didn’t want her anymore.
Maybe they’d visit every afternoon at 4.
There was no way I’d ever know again for sure.  

But, I know why this afternoon’s task
made me smile,
stinging at the same time.

Because I’m Cynthia’s son.

© P&ZPublications 2018
For you, Ma. Always.
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