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Bison Feb 2016
There's an impossibility standing adjacent to the nearest star bound body
It waves and beckons with a sincere familiarity so unnaturally
I am the end of the undulating tunneled vision
I am become a silhouette of a dead city caught in the decaying story bones fiction

We are all emptiness and our emptiness is how we define ourselves.
But our emptiness will become a river into which we will find the world to be held.
The universe exists in the eyes of those who live without the sight to see
Those breathing, freezing stars that burn into the heart buried deep.

Constructs of will and portions of strength cut out the guilt of my youth
All roads lead to the sky but I will not seek to understand you
Futures are made in blinks and beats
Are they aware of the way we lay with our tangled feet under these threadbare sheets?

Follow the light of my darkness
A single shot of whiskey and a conversation whisks away my heart's hardness
All cool and breezy across the great green oceans
I'll meet you halfway between loss and a facsimile of dreamed emotions
Mark Upright Aug 4
|“lead into gold, good into dear, mortal into immortal”
(where poems come from)”
|


you charged me
with crimes three times three,
sorcery and witchcraft and doing ***’s work

plead guilty three times three
not that I was successful,
but a complex, candied marvelous failure

not in my possession, the sorcerers spell,
my dross and wordy dregs all sit sidelined,
perchance perhaps,
if you search with a leaden patience inhuman,
you might just find a minuscule golden vein there’d unmined

turning good into dear, an “anyone can do it” miracle,
when you whisper with just one kiss those forever words,
don’t be afraid, say it low and slow, I love you,
and
“I only want to be with you”
and dare it to be become dear

mortal into immortal, an order tall, for one knows his
hiding places for all too human pockmarked weak,
but having been charged and found in guilt,
no one proffered evidence but they wanted a unambiguous
unanimous verdict and proof is such an old fashioned truth notion

happy accept your accusations and since confession is
the best soul medicine, with glee, here and now reveal
how immortality is achievable


breathe poems  constantly instantly throughout
the orifices in the skin cells and
pore’d orifices you were *** given;
it is how we immortals communicate
with what cannot be seen,
yet drunken heard when spoke aloud

taste the poems in and on tongues you can’t comprehend,
the sounds fly skyward after infiltrating your eyes,
then you can see your own immortality anointed rising

all nonsense you plead,
indeed,
only immortals truly cherish and envy the
human ability to create
nonsense, the place
where poems come from

*******
Eric Pon Oct 23
Sometimes, I write to understand.
And sometimes to explain
But now, the words begin to land
In a distinctive little game

I'll admit this one I do not need-
Its not essential like the rest,
But for my ego it does feed
A senerity contest.

For all I want is to be known
For all my sanctioned skills
You see this ryhme which I now own? Does it make you ill?
To think in this confession
That the power of my word
is no more than an obsession?
One that I've detered.

For followers is what I need!
Its all im really here for.
And to admit this **** greed
Makes me crave it even more.
Brooke White Nov 2017
I'm sinking with your memories
They can't swim 'cause they're under the river
If these walls could speak,
they would hardly bare a whisper

Your touch is colder than before
Ropes starting to fray
I'm becoming afraid
there is no spark anymore
Only to forget my name

Wondering how tired my lungs are
Sustenance carpets the hollow floor
Lead me out of the dark

Ignoring the signs
The more that I learn, the less meaning I find
Am I the **** you see
in your family's eyes or voice of reasoning?
Alyssa Underwood Aug 2017
Jesus, please set my bound heart free
Let not this world my prison be
Where fear and shame would pull me down
To suffocate and cause me to drown

'Stead loose my soul that it may soar
Heavy, fettered, chained no more
So You can lead me to the hills
Away from where 'perfection' kills

In You alone my worth is found
What joy immense, this truth profound
To know I'm precious in Your sight
My strength, my hope, my life's delight

Surrendered now to Your control
'Tis love which heals my wounded soul
Convinced that I can trust Your heart
Toward me, to You my cares I impart

And selfish may I no more be
But lend me eyes that I might see
The wounds which other souls still have
To give to them Your healing salve

That You might take their tender pain
And turn it to eternal gain
So suffering may not wasted be
But used to set our cold hearts free

Then we who in triumphant praise
More closely on Your face may gaze
Beholding all Your beauty vast
Held tight to You, content at last!
~~~

"So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."
~ John 8:36

"But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into His image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit."
~ 2 Corinthians 3:16-18

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing
with the glory that will be revealed in us."
~ Romans 8:18


~~~

Sung to the tune of
'Jesus, Thy Blood and Righteousness'
(music by William Gardiner)
Am I wrong to want it different
Is it selfish
To divulge in things that I know will lead to heartache
To give myself the relief of a friend for a while, even though I know it will hurt them
I know I cannot excuse this behavior
But Is it not for my health
For my well being
No
It only causes pain, again and again
It is not necessary
It is selfish
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