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Mygreatestescape Sep 2018
In the morning when
I have spent myself,
I am serene like
a hurricane,
--(I will call myself
Katrina)
a giant conspiracy
of lovers,
I took a step
without any feet,
the preacher
speaks of god,
of a childhood innocence
that was lost before
it begun,
the stillness of
the soul,
living in the
abyss of
my loneliness,
I cannot believe in
a god that lets
the world rot,
that lets flies die on windowsills,
but yet I believe in
a beloved that
makes me sweep
the ground,
stoop till my back aches,
who looks at me
without any eyes,
and brings tears
to mine,
everything that I ever
loved grows like
flowers
when I see this beloved,
if I know of love
--like a child,
I only know through
my beloved,


and yet,

yet  

    yet


god is a tattered
coat that my grandmother
wears,

to have you listen
to me -- that is my beloved,

spilling my tears onto
ginseng leaves,
dust gathers
like grime,
a second layer of skin,
watching Aphrodite rise
from homes riddled
by lust,

this whole nation cursed,
and yet here is mecca (Medina)
here is Bethlehem
where apples grow freely,
and Eden lies north,
where money rains onto
nudists,

here lives the prowling
sphinx,
here Thebes rises
from the gold dust of
the Sahara ,
her salivating tongue
licks up our dissent,
and our leaders
drags Artemis by
her hair,
the sinners of
earthly lust,
Lucifer wears
armani suits
and defiles cherubs,

they have lit our
children on fire,
and have called
it a sacrifice,
we watched kindness
fall into the deep marrows
of the Styx,

living in a nation
of free will,
undressed free
will and
ravished her against her
will,

my beloved
who wears my anger
like furs,
and milks the world
like a daunting king.
suis-je en train de mourir? - Am I dying?
Levi Kips Feb 2018
Natural disasters flow like Water.
Either naturally or what we consider to be natural like water from a faucet.
The nature behind the definition natural used to be so concrete like telling the difference between an earthquake and thunder but lately it bends so flexible that now
it’s like telling the difference between a 6 and a 9.
I realized my definition and vocabulary was about to be tested when I saw him.
Nothing about our encounter was natural except for our reactions.
Normally we're supposed to look at them Aurora Borealis
like their presence is a gift from God but naturally,
I look at him like a rooted tree looks at a thunderstorm while he,
He looks at me the same way a tsunami looks at a beach house.
I'm just trying to survive while he.......  
I'm trying still to decide what he wanted.
Was he trying to do what he sees as natural now or
was he trying to protect and serve God,
The Earth,
His Life.  
Either way, I know how natural disaster stories end and
I don't want to end up like Louisiana to Katrina,
like Haiti to the earthquake,
like Eric Garner to the NYPD.
That word natural is so abused and misused,
the word they really mean is normal.
It is normal for all kings to get taken down,
like King Charles the 1st,
like King Richard the 1st,
like African Kingdoms,
like Rodney King,
like Martin Luther King.
I want to keep having natural endings and not normal ones,
I rather want the debate of
"was that sound a heartbreak or an earthquake" and not
" was that the sound thunder or another black body hitting concrete".
In today's society, natural and normal trade blows and dance around each other so much
we ignore the chaos their tornado creates.
I can very much so be another victim of the normal slash new natural tornado
and hang my name up in the clouds next to a rip hashtag
and have it blow away the next day.
Instead, I hand over my genetic recipe to the elemental force
and hope that it doesn't return to the melanin back to the earth.
Normally the statistics aren't in my favor
nor is it in the favor for black bodies but today
nature rooted for me,
it didn't promise me a forever, but it helped me weather this storm.
Weather if you are looking at this situation as a 6 or a 9.
This shouldn't be the new normal.
Today I survive, and hopefully,
There will be a nature to help others do so too.
This is about when I was pulled over on a bike around the corner from home
Binx Jul 2018
Drip
Drip
Drip

I try to keep my anxiety in a bucket
Some days I can empty the pale with cold and sluggish hands

Other days the thoughts trickle out and so I grab my mop put out my “caution” sign

But today there’s a flood
I have a teacup during Katrina
Not filled with Earl Grey

But I try anyways.
Celia Rose Jul 15
You are the Titan of Tears,
Sobbing to the unforgiving milkman
Who breaks your ***** bottles
And feeds you curdled milk
From withering cattle.
He crunches around broken glass
With his scuffed leather boots on your front porch
As you watch from a hole in your bedroom wall,
Losing your first piece of dignity
And the last of the sanity carrying you since age ten.
You are the Titan of Tears,
Crying to the cutthroat poetess
Who refuses to send your estranged sister
A collection of misery soaked poetry.
She burns your insincere words in front of the mailbox;
Stanza by stanza the ash coats your mouth
Like lipstick for the ******.
Spiraling into smoke as she walks away
Fast enough to lose her in the midst of your fit.
The Titan of Tears—
You whimper in torn apart doorways
To block out strangers who will never appear.
You, Titan,
Who only feels clean when flossing
In the harshest of summer storms
Because you believe your great God is washing
Sins out of your matted hair.
You, Titan,
Whose childhood feels never-ending like evening traffic.
Childhood is the milky smoke you witness
Seeping from your dying neighbor’s chimney;
Childhood stares at you
Like glassy eyed pigeons outside of your office window
As you weep into your cold black coffee, Titan.
Your lacking adulthood is full of sloppy attempts to silence
Barking dogs in your slush brain,
Pushing down the bile that rises in your flaking throat,
As water floods your eyes like a basement during Katrina
And feeding worms writhe out of your flared nostrils,
Covered in snot and blackened discharge.
You are the Titan of Tears;
Your weeping rivals Mother Mary’s ****** streaks.
i am proud of this one.
“**** it Paula! We are lesbians and we have to stick together!”
“I know and I'm sorry, but sometimes I forget that we're lesbians. Sometimes I think that maybe, just maybe, we're more than lesbians!”
“More than lesbians? What do you mean?”
“Paula, don't you ever wonder about what men are like? How big are their vaginas? What it feels like to feel a man's naked *******?”
“No, I never have. I suppose that a man's ***** is no different than a woman's. Anyway, we're lesbians, so we can't think of such things.”
“Paula, do you suppose that there are 2 homosexual men having this conversation right now?”
“Yes, after all men & women are no different from each other. We all have desires & menstrual cycles. It's just a terrible fact of life.”
“Good night Katrina.”
“I'm low on protection.”
“Better get some, first thing in the morning. I don't want either, or both of us, to get pregnant.”
“Me too.”

— The End —