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Collin Nuetraal Feb 2014
As neutral as the sun, giving light to all

In the midsts of confusion
on the streetlights
clang prints of the lost
where matters meet opinion

trouble is inevitable as the hours of winter

happiness is pruned by sharp summits of standard

Summer blooms like blossoms of bliss
that meet the trees whom kiss the skies
a shock of relief that blesses

As the drops slither along the green fields
whom are wet
and are dancing with the north winds
and sing as the wild mumbles sweet sounds of soft

A million ages of neurotic entertainment
a thousand and four hundred
skyscapers bend like feathers over the lives of us
inequality strikes logic
littered fields of sense moan disaster
but no one's listening...

The cosmos reasonates to us, within us
as beautiful as a storm of clouds
as sweet as peace
the universe pleads to you to let it seize you
as easy as tripping over the truth
is finding life within you

As neutral as the moon, giving light to **all
Everyone would be perfect if everyone did not support either side of anything, we all are the children of the universe and concepts should not divide what was made undivided
Ashlyn Rimsky Dec 2020
When I say I like to play games,
I mean I like monopoly.
I mean I like rolling the dice,
Playing the odds and hoping
To land on something lucky.

When I get lucky
I land on free parking,
Like the kind on the street
Outside of your apartment.

I celebrate as I am showered
In more kisses than I can count.
I shove them down my throat
To negotiate with later.

As time passes we will
Trade them back and forth
Until every inch of space
Between me and you is occupied.

For a while we will be equal.
We will play nice. Pay small tolls.
Taking only what we are giving,
Trading for mutual benefit,

Growing from one another.
Building houses and visiting
One another's properties.
Not worrying about landing
On one space or another.

Slowly grassy fields turn
To sprawling developments.
Places that some people aim to be,
Make a family, one, two, three.

But we are not the type to, baby.
We will not stop for a white picket fence.
We have personal goals, for personal developments.
We are career driven people.

In the name of monopoly,
We will circle the board until we are dizzy,
Erecting concrete skyscapers one layer at a time,
Building walls stacked on walls
That scream to the sky

"Something was built here."

Something hard. Something heavy.
Something immovable. A concrete block
Concealing a once-grassy field.

I went to visit you there.
I found a ticket on my dash board.
I guess thats why you said you're fine,
But I am not.

These walls cost me a toll that I cannot pay.
I heard the only way to knock them down
Is if one of us loses.

Good thing "It's just a bored game."
Styles 12 Dec 2018
walks through walls
sews silence into
broken flower smiles

tameless as mist
shivering her forest canopies

sits like Himalayan awe
on swollen shoulders

performs snowflake dances
in solitary rooms
leaves your jaw stranded on desert planes
you cannot define

cuts tainted lips
dies a thousand times
revolts against impossible

liberates Marilyn

her soft soul
able to breathe free
without convoluted fame

as if her blue delphinium fields
lived only in her skin

pawning off beauty
with cheap dimestore perspective

Hollywood is a broken tale scandal
built up regime high.

Shards limping away from fallen skyscapers
unwritten poetry floats
like bright houses on hidden continents

lights up foggy shores
when long nights
plague the haunted

— The End —