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RAO Aug 2018
2 Liters Width this Bottle Neck had her Thirsty when i Pop Off.
"Hes Got a Unique Meter!"

Thinkin outside my Thoughts Manipulate Face hands off my Clock Box a Movie Theater
Soft Drinkin my Equilibriums "DAnkh"...
Hook up The Bracelet of Anubis Call it my I Watch
Achilles Heels turning red and blue takin on a Dog WALK
no roads better to cross Sapphire bird " Call that a Cold ****¡!"
from a "Pacman" in Paris Pans Panning Labyrinths A Mazed running on music like Tha Rock whippin better then jimmy Neutrons Stovetopper
... Style makes Our Classic Modern Eighties cheatah?
UhDDuz(UDDERS+ADIDAS) "GODDARD" "SkyWalker" Call that Harry Potter at the Roboxer smoking bud from jimmy Wonkers GobStoppers.
give that a D +
Oh Gosh *** in CVS / HoMâge/ Po-ca-hon-tas chair gifted like Op-rahs-Hola-no bras vuela-ar tuoi o-Yâ aur-revior no-mas Veteran Indi-En Sit-in on ma stick shift of Mua Cö-Brâ..... engine Knocking sicker then Jehovah with pneumonia
Can we get every Ticket so i can load the Super Bowl Comon!
Makin her Jaw Drop ready to turn Dragon Rude into an tan Dra
Dolph-in ima RAOBAWT fly fishin Santa Cla₩§ Idle Hands Examined n Exposé Gods
lips im here to naturally Lift I'd Volunteer for Slavery if the Hills were rich like Jessica Albas Exposed ***

yo problems in the street
I get hi on Florida Keys You a Hero Touch Down!
Stranger Danger in my End Zone
zebra Jan 14
a future promise
a ******* like bundled gym socks
in stuffed blue jeans

a future threat
a shriveled phallus wrinkled obsolete

she remembered fondly
being beaten drum chatter
and seized like slow roasted
fall off the bone pulled pork
****** raggedy Ann
catapulted beyond Euboean heavens
ravaging scrotums Gordian ******
with her wild fiendish mouth
drinking a river of
haloed golden showers
spit and ****
in a runaway hot house of glistening pink
buttery spires
engorging her macerated orifices

half eaten radish
chocking on hordes
of big do do *****
a ****** face; cross eyed
Babylon abalone
bashed Ashly mashed
begging for
a face full of swinging *****
like caped chandeliers
trotting faint giggles
in a constellation
of ruptured arteries
and thick sparked ****

on her knees
milk glitter faced
scared with happiness
she counted one smiling bruise at a time

her badge of calamities
black and blue silhouettes
grinning invitations like party favors
without a crease of shame

her skin rapturous
spackled patchworks
bled like torrential fountains summer tide
while every body had  fizzy red ice phlebotomies
and steamed through her drooling tumble pie

lust ***** totem
house of winding labyrinths
honey pumped transfusion
flush on blush
opera of tangled limbs
red pulse wedding flowers
slick ***** palace
blood tongued orchard
caressing knotted mooned
**** spill
zebra Feb 2017
she said
being a feminist
i have forsaken the temples of normalcy
for dark gratifications and base seduction
and discovered that those who know the pleasures
of objectification
and frenzied ****** lucidity with strangers
are wiser then the children of  sweetness and light
as marriage betrays the need to satisfy
secret dark labyrinths desire
and in its place
repeats ad nauseum
blunt fortitudes
in dim sunless rooms
for fear of the transgressive

satans *** nail

is conventions essential creed
exhaustions hand maid
rendered imagine-less
bereft of the new
until a mere stand in
for true desire is left
like a starved ghost
on a dead moon
a desiccated morsel
left for a hungry mouse

is romantic marriage a poetic conception
by love starved victorian imbeciles
vanquished in increments
by petty spats of blood and thunder
who know not the joys of the whips blood toothed kisses
purgation's brutal sensuality
and a creel
of ramming butter **** gang bangs
in secret fetish gardens
of cries and coos
that leave the *** wilted
and the soul lite
like a butterfly in heaven

slave girl asks
as hips sway
to sacred dionysian storms
in the smoldering pangs
of the heart
as backs writhe and arch
flex and sweat rhapsodic
and viscera panic with desire

are not such delicious degradations
pleasures ravage despicable
cause for an ecstatic celebration
fiery vapors incense
en-flamed dragons blood
for drooling kisses
that talk in tongues
in a language that everyone understands
infinitly preferred
over  the rolling eyes of disapproval
in the tepid marriage bed
zebra Jul 2016
I never ****
never go
against the will
of another

I am interested
in a certain
kind of dark angel

I have always dreamed
of dying
with my lover
inside of me
she coos
I am excited
by the danger
of dark alleys
hunt me sick boy
through dim city nights

her feet
sweeten the earth
with desire
with sparks
that ignite
the moon

who finds lifes
meaning on her knees
as if in prayer
for ****** intensity
no matter the cost
a sweet fat snail
wanting to be cooked
in butter

her deity
the solar phallus
she its supplicant
her **** dampened
in devotion
aching to be
mortally un wound
by an artist
of the despicable
her *** an
unguarded pearl
waring tiger pants

a true *******
she is my beloved
***** princess
lover of the venomous
revels in her abasement
a spilled bottle of perfume

inspired enigma
runs into a blades
like an embrace
searching for
plastic bags
a razor
any thing that helps
that may take her
to a sapphire tunnel
of effulgent light

*** toys for
bad boys and girls
she says
hells kitchen utensils
jewels of ******
blood plush theater
now on a stained
linoleum floor
her perfect feet
from onerous self hurting
a gory performance
exquisite poses
of impossible
tarnished yogas
as she stares into oblivion
**** soaking
desires rushing poem
of blood

she murmurs
with sweet kisses and *****
undo me slow
come on baby
thrilling her
like a steaming
Lilly pond bayou
of gators and snakes
that consume each other
for horror and sustenance
like the universe
she is a snake eating her self

tremulous with heat
at the thought
of her own demise
ready to caress
to **** in silky *****
and bleed puddles
until finally succumbing
to inescapable
dark water labyrinths
deaths embrace

the blade sinking into my body
my **** a bond fire
for cruelty and adoration
a good flogging
to soften sir
with a knife
something dull please

a headless woman
in flames
gently sways her hips
then crumbles
like a barren echo

your invited
to my carnation
of ruination
by hellish insertions

oh pain
pleasures food

she wiggles
like a modern dance

sir please
a ligature and feral kisses
my throat begging
slowly squeeze
the life out of me
her mouth gapes
eyes bulge
with a
hideous blackened
staring staring staring

another calls
make my body
your ammo dump
filled with lead
small handgun.
several non fatal shots
lets do it in the bath tub
in the stomach
before the finishers
I do like my body to be used
before and after death
make it sacred
**** whats left
use my mouth hard
or turn me to ash
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
With its parched dreams,
beneath the zizzing sands,
the river waits for a surging swell
to take it to the labyrinths of a
new consciousness.

You choose your own course
when you crash into the
chasms of meaninglessness.

You hibernate to the still zone
trancing between words
when words fail to contain you.

As you flow through me,
you become the sacrarium
in the labyrinths of my consciousness
for me to diffuse in your soul’s stillness.
zebra Jul 2018
i have no words for emptiness
i'm a bulwark of clots and knots

death is a *****
in a party mask
her seduction a cruel bite
we have always lived for

nakedness on a pyre
makes the man

the bodyless are toasting at a college breakfast party
in the netherworld
of new birthed astral lights
the dead living
somersaulting like fantasmal flux

while we the living dead
gimp through labyrinths time-space
marking spired hands of a clock
that *****  
like a black glove
 towards endless white-knuckle struggles
no matter our destiny
in a dream of forms
like run on *****

a truth only the dead know
Vera Mar 2018
I envied the cadavers haunting my nightmares,
watching those before me
spread upon a metal slab
bodies are hand-me-downs of regurgitated poetry,
with wretched closets in which I take their place.

This ventilator called "loved ones"
forcing breath into anguished lungs-
tragedies belonging to these poets meant something,
a desire to save the words written,
but never the one who becomes a eulogy.

Agony burrows inside of me,
conversations with my mother's ghost
the living are possessed by
the dead's shortened tomorrows.

To die by suicide wouldn't give,
authenticity to hurt.

I am learning the autopsy of a soul:
extracting a heart from the chest,
as it's sense of belonging was never there.
An inability to weigh the words bleeding from valves,
aside lungs I'm unable to breathe through.

How ungrateful is it of sorrow to ask for hope?
placed in a pill divider to swallow,
muscles within my throat so tight.
How many times did I diminish my voice?

Inside the brain,
schematics of labyrinths with no end to betterment.
Surgeons reach for a soul,
an iridescence small enough
held in a gloved palm,
watching it writhe.
Placed upon a slide,
but even a microscope
cannot perceive the pain a soul hides.

Once more,
stitched with needle and thread.

Wilting of my own garden,
comes one day-
an incision is made opening me up.
My heart showed the same
blood-red ink, writing apologies
on the marble floor.

They opened my arm,
displaying a noose of veins.
In this moment,
they removed my soul
only to gift it to another
birthed from torment
ripped out of the arm's of their mother
& into the embrace of woe.

Hopefully, it makes sense.
zebra Aug 2016
while heaven and hell
where engrossed in their own affairs
the light bringer
an incandescent intelligence
was cast down
to this metallic monument of stone
hurled to the depths
mourning star falling
for aspiring
to greater altitudes
the furthest reaches
perhaps some distant
parametric edge
or insensate endlessness
of the northern most realms
Baals glittering throne

stellar divinity
mourning light
enemy of evil
gave mankind its foundations
fire, technology
the signatures of spirits
those vey veys
the voodoo
that Jews do
the secret of
the dark speculum
polished obsidian
for scrying
door to arcane gods
and spirits dark
of great power
Solomons instruments of wisdom
demonstrating that man might live in grace
without watering the ground with tears

now vanquished in the depths
of labyrinths submerged
and contained in a brass vessel
crypt of sigils
the true names of power

as ages rolled over
we lost our depth of mind
became zombies
shadow beings
at first a mystery to our selves
and then the mysteries
became memories
and then even the memories
became dust

no longer could
we conjure or evoke
from the depths
our Jacobs ladder
those Goetic spirits
and  Amadel
of angelic powers
our protectors
and sustenance
lost and bereft of
aladins lamp
leaving men a drift in reason alone
barren religions of flagging faith
heaven and earth separated
a god absent
based on belief
the words
historic etymology
at its very core
it hides its secret for all to see
a lie

science of endless calculus
a one trick pony
like a sludge hammer
its only tool
which maps the known universe
but understands nothing
about what things mean
like the subtle architecture
of consciousness
and its interconnectedness
to all that there is
which may be nothing
with no physical properties
no volume
no trans-formative elemental substance
energies of light or force
or pulsating quanta
but inventions of consciousness
it self a light
which lacks volume
and physical quality
all of reality mere dreams
by an unknown dreamer
perhaps the child of another

at the stroke of midnight
the darkest point
in the murkiest age
the Kala Yuga
post modern man
remains conceited
while the world burns
paradise lost

Monotheism reigns
in our back water world
millenniums long night
of honor killings
god of the blade
thou shalt not ****
yet all condemned to die

put that in your pipe
slave makers
over bearing pedagogues
god loving war stooges
your god has a bigger ****
while parents
pack up their
shell shocked babies
there little trampled flowers
forced to
plummet to some dark address
tears fluttering
suffused  by poison clouds
in shady groves
where they only dare exhale

have you not had it yet
with gods mysterious ways
if it quacks like a duck
hell goons
****** spiritual stasis
toxicity and contagion
of the simplistic

their god
a shrunken form
projection of an incomplete  mind

those who live by the sword
die by the sword
and those who do not
die anyway
not a leaf falls with out the will of god
are we not all falling
oh man
cast off axioms
of the addle brained

oh priests
of petrified ideation's
if you have a real god
look to reality to understand it
do you see mono anything
or do you see binary everything
love hate
macro micro
life death
creation destruction
as above so below
the tao
male female

no your god
both great and terrible
can not make you whole
with out her
for she is all of space
creator of all form
our human women
vessels of the goddess
who you have
conveniently subtracted
and profaned
for vainglories patriarchs sake

the universe it self
a multitude of powers
from hells deep shocks
and dismal woe
to adorations from the queen of heaven
and the sacred temple prostitutes
now made sullied
by goody goody minds
shames children
a vice of knives
solar heroes they think
while high minded and ignorant

the synoptic religions
feeding frenzies of dogma
beatings of submission
mouldering skeletons
of the abyss
******* blood loving bats
all dressed up
in Don Trump
plush red power ties
made in china
where indentured servants
in state hell mills
are worked to death

while others
prim men
pretending to love
all ostentatious actors
spiritual materialist
fearing hells abyss
outwardly proud
in self righteousness
performing public adorations
while in secret rooms
they ****** themselves
under shadows guilt
blasphemy of gloating piety
begrudging the pleasure of others
there guiding light

there true god
a demon of obedience
bes-tower of agony
you gota suffer now
so you don't have to suffer later
dividing man from himself
All of them covering there heads
to obstruct the gifts of wisdom
and freedom
blocking the rays of Luciferic light
and insight
******* in there own hats
so they may remain undistracted
by their gods commands
having forgotten
that they themselves
made them up
pious dullards
that they are

oh Lucifer bright one
i stand before you
embraced by eight
the number of Majick
in arms that proliferate
the true will
Lucifers eight arms
Travis Green Dec 2018
I can feel the static electricity surging
through my veins, raging slashed
voltages running rampant, destructive
beats blazing my escape, dazed and
flayed, crammed thoughts pounding
inside my domain like crazed chaotic
drums.  The world around me is
spinning frantically in scorched
dungeons, savage city slums,
slumped bridges and crumbling
labyrinths, a ravage wrecked
landscape sinking inside a
crimson drenched death, a
splintering tornado unleashing
a gut-wrenching sound of havoc.
Amanda Dec 2018
I wish you would open up your mind
Let me inside that beautiful maze
But the closest I've gotten is the entrance
Cannot travel past your daunting gaze

I don't know how to break down walls
You've built up higher than the clouds
I've also tried to scale tall gates
Either I'm too weak or you're too proud

Your feelings are impenetrable
A fortress rendered from stone
Your mansion is a magnificent sight
Why do you choose to live there alone?

I behold the entry to the prison
Caging your enigmatic emotions
And ponder the wilderness beyond
A forest of uncharted notions

I wish I could pick the lock to your heart
Or find a window so into your soul I could see
I long to explore the depths of those labyrinths
But you will never hand over the key
I gave you the key to my heart long ago. You gave me a key as well but now I realize it was a duplicate, as you have given many others. Who has your original?
Pearson Bolt Jun 3
some days it seems sorrow
stems like thorns beneath
the leaves of intellect. sun-starved petals
wilt for want of water, desperate
to slake their thirst on summer-showers.
the process of photosynthesis forestalled
by the ambivalence of the heavens.
hedge rows turn to labyrinths in the mind,
droughts sap the vigor that bleeds
from trees we planted like solemn columns
in this temple we call the human psyche.
a pestilence has settled in, a dank fog
that rankles our resolve and strips bark
like armor from the human spirit.
weeds rose from fecund soil, strangling
all that once grew here.
Brayan Dec 2018
Usually when it’s going tough; I’d like to reminisce it for a bit, lose myself to the tempted-fishhook reel that is clicnical adhd.

Act out a while, drink and curse minimal.
Believe the feeling isn’t for the thrill of it; just trying to get rid of it. Burden by the cause held without funds in libraries made for impacted thought. See you’re lost; though I’ma' Minotaur you’d want to seek within these labyrinths.

[email protected] Brayan Salgado
“Food for thought, feed the people, cause we all equal who would have thought.. - A.S”
Tara May 28
We are raised to make life complicated,
form our lives into maises of accomplishments and disappointments,
labyrinths covered with hurdles,
constantly accompanied by stress,

but why did no one ever teach me gratitude,
for being able to feel the wind on my skin,
and sun on my back,
rushing sensations all over my body,
how beautiful air sounds blowing through the leaves,
entering my lungs,
oh how grateful I am to breathe,

rarely do we take a step back and see,
we’ve create our own destiny,
fueled our own misery,
taught our children how to learn and listen,
but not how to be thankful for living.
i suspect we blend in like flies
against these carpets
and if we really needed to
could we escape the rat race
and trace our steps back to better days
for we are finally returning
from all these labyrinths and mazes
stronger than we entered
with feathers and bone settled in stone
our world is fornicating
on the lustful wings of birdsong
and the yurts we called our home
have all been torn like thorns from a rose

i suppose you may know this already
but a long time ago i swore to ignore our fate
still the stars in your eyes look dry today
and why haven't you watered them already
so let's forget the weather and dance in the rain
as if our painful stories were a virtuous thing
like a tree in need of a companion
our fantasies remain shelf stable
until they are blended in our beverages
have we outgrown this atavistic economy
that has become swollen like cottonwood
that was stolen from the heat of summer

while you fed me lox and bagels
i said please send me all your angels
and trying to build an empire out of ego
is the most pointless of endeavors
yet most beings persist on doing this
until they inevitably expire
why do we care to reveal our thoughts
when we could listen to truth like it was on fire
and if you wish to dangle yourself
from the edge of that wire
than who am i to try and persuade you not to
Ira Desmond Dec 2018
Last night,
I dreamt that the friend of a friend had died.

His body floated lifeless on the surface of the Pacific,
tossed about between the Bering Sea whitecaps

like an orca’s seal-pup plaything
while the Arctic wind whipped

and beat the freezing cold water
across his pallid face and through his chestnut hair.

Then his body
began to sink,

its silhouette appearing
against various monotone

canvases of blue
on its trip downward:

a vivid cornflower,
a pelagic cerulean,

a chasm of cold cobalt,
a starless twilight,

a forest of indigo,
a velvet curtain of navy.

as it reached the deepest possible shade of midnight—

only a quantum away from black—
it stopped sinking.

There, in that void,
where daylight and color are considered but outlandish theories,

strange fish of all and shapes and sizes
began to surround the decomposing corpse:

Greenland sharks hailing from the frozen arctic,
mantis shrimp from the mangrove labyrinths,

eyeless electric eels from undersea caves near the Galápagos,
vampire squid rising cautiously up out of their World War One trenches,

scores of spindly ***** and pale worms that had ventured far beyond
the safe familiarity of their alien geothermal worlds.

At first, they approached the corpse gingerly,
nibbling only the tips of its hair and fingernails,

and then suddenly, voraciously,
they consumed it—until not even a skeleton remained.

Now, only a single point of light was left
there floating in the void.

And from this single point of light,
where just a moment before the corpse had floated,

a brilliant white lattice structure emerged,
unfurling as would a fern across a forest floor.

It fanned out onto the seabed
and then swept upward, upward

back toward those reaches of sea
where color is known

and fresh air gleefully permeates
that foamy outer membrane that skirts the base of the sky.

Scores of familiar fish began to lift up the crystalline structure—
schools of shimmering sardines,

stately, dignified manta rays,
skipjacks, bluefins, and white-tips,

brilliant cuttlefish, humble pufferfish,
shifty barracuda, gargantuan whale sharks,

all of them
beating their tails in concert

to carry this lattice away,
this measure of a life,

this husk of a soul
at last freed from its earthly bindings.

The fish were carrying it somewhere deeper,
somewhere darker,

to a place that I understood—
even from the inky depths

of my dreaming mind—
that I could not enter.

But then again,
I knew that someday

I would.
She holds herself like a sacred kiss
Silent, cool in the ether
Turning ever so elegantly
In a Firmament of whirling starsoup

I am just a girl, lost in my own time
Pale haunter of underwater gardens
Cthonic dreamer of a far darker poetry
Needing night to tend my visions
Under the care of a gentle mistress
La Luna, beloved milky soothsayer
And I, an uncanny odalisque
Quite in love with the Moon

She draws me in...I run
Run to the tall stone fountain and the waiting ghosts
Run with lifted arms to catch their songs
Run like the mindlessly besotted
Run like a shooting ribbon arrow
She draws me in...and I leap
Leap from the edge of the grass in tumbledown bliss
Leap from the edge of hope, wishing
Somersault through the impossible
Leap into my Lady’s white eye

Weaving cobwebs from labyrinths into wings
Laced inside my corsetry harness, l
Climb upon a diamond, star-bellied cloud
In tune with the Moon’s sibilant call
Pianos are playing in the key of longing as
I step into space, out into the air
Trusting my forever home
In the arms of my bella donna Moon

Asleep in her like a swooning dove
Dreams, keys in the lock of fate
Moonsong in my veins
And the green Earth is far away..
Travis Green Aug 2018
An immense circle of thoughts was clouding
my brain in this room of reconfigured dimensions,
the spinning ceiling fan whirling into a windmill,
the ******* floors breaking into a wave of sharpened
metaphors, the expressionless curtains filled with fear
and crashing scenery, a dark hollow surface converging
in a rhythm of insane beats, imprisoned noted drumming,
disentangled sentences, shattering subjects, compressed
conjunctions and compounds accelerating into an eternity
of uncolored existences, as I stare at the isolated sky,
swollen stars diverging in a broken pattern of faded worlds,
the breathless moon sunken in a domain of interchangeable
languages, meaningless mazes, chopped consonants,
crumbling dreams, everything shifting in a sea of diminishing
whirlpools, while I drifted into a realm of uncaged thoughts,
a crushing cycle of unbalanced worlds, dizzy and senseless
paragraphs bleeding into timeless realities.  My eyes are
plummeting and shackled in drumbeating rhetoric, lost logos,
swallowed pathos, enveloped ethos, rainless cheeks, cloaked chests,
handcuffed arms, square root hips disassembling into deferred
depictions, distilled dreams, shadowed feet hardly more than a
poetic sound, a sore scrawled letter stretched in ragged angles,
stinging, helpless horizons.  I gazed at the shattered glass on
the kitchen floor, how its cracking vibration rumbled inside
my veins, how its impossible syllables blazed my soul,
the burning air around my inner being suffocating in Saturn,
vanishing in Venus, exploding on Earth, every ****** debris
splitting in horrid labyrinths, a screaming depth hidden in
disguise.  I glanced around at the broken wall where
my drunken dad fists where imprinted, the mangled wood
hanging in drugged vowels, the rotten symmetry disappearing
in chalky chambers, roughly lined hues declining without a trace,
as I reflected on the series of events that transpired, the way I
could hear the slamming door raging inside my vessel,
enflamed flaming verbs hovering in high rhymes,
hardened adjectives, destroyed derivatives, disintegrating
equations, the way his bladed feet dragged across the floor,
every reverberating step drowning the sunken space between us,
unwritten surroundings trapped in the atmosphere, confined in a
cloud of inconsolable galaxies, the raging fire stained ***** bottle
wedged between his grubby hands, as I could smell the reeking
breath sifting out of his mouth onto my monotonous flesh,
the same ruthless flow traveling in stuttering nouns, drowning
my heart in Neptune, while I listened to his blazing bloodshot
words, You are nothing without me!  You are worthless!  
You are just a filthy *****!  I wish you would die!  The rising
diction clenched every part of my frame, the way I could breathe
in the asphalt in his tasteless lips, a dying aroma that made me feel
like I was a featureless street seeping into underground dungeons, undone, a destroyed beauty shotgunned.
Ryan O'Leary Mar 31
Literally, loitering litter
leaves landscapes looking
like labyrinths leading lonely
lethargic lads lacking lustre
lame lamenting Lu Lu's Lingerie
laundered locally lampooning
looser's lost leaders landing
lecherous louts leftist ledgers
legacies legally legitimised
libellous loafers lobbying
locksmiths logically liaising
loggers longliners lubriciously
lucid lookalike lunatics luring
lasses lustfully locating low
level latino's lavatories.
Yaryna Feb 19

This winter I think about you, not about how it snows.

Not about which sweater is warmer to wear.

As a moonlight, you appeared on my threshold.

And why my life before you wasn't fair?

Read me as cards, spreading them on the bed.

Interpret my kisses as Venus's message.

You know, my name don't exist in those books that unread.

With you, there's lack of the air of a seamless atmosphere.

At night, the stars die away, falling over your shoulders.

From my skin, I wash away all the curses of others' hands.

Coin your name on my lips and do whisper,

That is me, your favorite of all pseudosciences.

Do not tell about me anyone except the Moon.

It's too intimate so that I live in someone else's head.

I am passionate and free in your heart, as Sagittarius constellation.

You're on my neck, like the chains of comets that are raspberries.

Promise, if I'm lost, you will be looking for me in your dreams.

In the labyrinths of the milky ways and thousands of solar years.

I will keep this magic in black and white pictures.

And once I will give it to universe forward for hundreds of centuries.
Travis Green Nov 2018
As I drove my son to school
this morning, I could feel all
the heavy anxiety racing at me
all at once.  The splitting syllables
twirled inside my soul into mixed
creations, crammed verbs hovering
in hollow surfaces, curling inside the
crevices of broken walls and rooftops,
swelling into hidden labyrinths and
imprisoned gutters.  My heart was
jumbled, tangled in irreversible
dimensions, stained behind bars,
scarred, seeping into uncontrollable
breezes.  I stared at the excitement in
his big blue eyes, how the shining stars
gleamed in his sight, all brightly beaming
and heavenly serene, the way he gazed
outside at the glorious trees, earthly leaves
swaying to their own upbeat anthem.  
The deep chanting sun sparkled in the
background, while fluffy clouds smiled
in delight.  I could see the exhilaration
in his divine cheeks, seamless rhythms,
an essence of smooth poetry rising in high
notes.  Every part of me wanted to bring back
the days when he was my little trooper
walking beside me, his scrawny hands
in harmony with mine, his soft smile a
beautiful flower blossoming inside
my veins.  As he opened his mouth,
You are the best mommy in the world.
I love you.  And I'd sink into those
adorable eyes and grin, I love you too.
Now, I can see how fast the days are
passing by, how my little boy is not
so little anymore, how when we pull
up to the elementary school and he steps
out onto the pavement, tears begin to flow
down from my eyelids, the way he strolls
up towards the double doors and turns
around facing me, his thin hands waving
ecstatically in the air, while I simply smile
and shout, Have a great day my darling boy.
Amanda Feb 16
I am holding onto something
I'm scared it isn't real
Is this an illusion?
Is it what you really feel?

I know it is wishful thinking
Wishes don't come true
Every time you're on my mind
I hope I am on yours too

I am waiting for your attitude to change
Wondering when it will end
The moment heart finally breaks
Allowing it to start to mend

Labyrinths have me trapped
In each feeling you raise
Searching but I still can't find
My way out of this maze
You ah-maze me...

— The End —