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Mike Essig Dec 2015
Get soddenly drunk,
see the moon reflected
in a limpid pool,
feel your heart
pierced by beauty,
reach to embrace it
and drown.

Try to write me
a better death
than that.

  ~mce
alavandala Mar 2014
to kindle the flame of fear is a most prominent endeavor
one is never ready, never willing but always doing so without regard for the
   consequence
what a wondrous weight
an unfathomable burden
a dignity never dignified
at least, to the portrayer
fear
which plunders the familiar darkness
hangs hope from the tallest tree
solicits the soul until suddenly, soddenly it becomes
magnificently maneuvered, a true feat
leaving no time to act
to question what is being done
the fury of such force
inescapable
unable to be transcended by will,
one must endure the totality
until the fire has retreated,
the light extinguished, smoke cleared
and one can breathe easily again
Fish The Pig May 2014
Making something
from nothing,
is harder than it seems.

We all have our place in this world,
a talent unique to each,
a calling,
a purpose,
a reason to breath...
so maybe that's why my lungs hurt.
they struggle each intake
and nearly give up on the out.

Drums beat slow in the distance,
and so many walk to the beat-
but my uncoordinated feet stumble soddenly.
My fingers are long,
but fumble too quick to play music,
so I cannot create my own beat.

We all reside at the bottom of a pit,
black and coarse,
with the light of the world atop,
gathering at the edges, we start to climb,
but I'm too weak and cannot get very far.
I'm left behind by the others
strong enough to climb to the top,
and no matter how hard I work,
my arms remain weak,
so I sit at the bottom
watching the other weak
gain the strength to climb the walls.

The beautiful,
the bold,
the brave,
the blind,
the clever,
the artistic,
the talented,
the determined,
the kind,
the old,
all kinds of people
in all kinds of color
and sizes
find their own way,
yet mine remains imponderable.

I drag my feet to the sound of silence.
I push through the next breath.
my weak arms barely holding on.

I'm nothing
that simply can't become something.
so why am I alive?
IOWA CITY, Iowa
     (killingly, jarringly inexplicable,
     horribly, gruesomely, and forlornly),
     the found exhumed decayed corpse
     belonging to young
vibrant coed twenty year old
     college student Mollie Tibbetts
     perhaps a spurned, snubbed,

     or scorned love seriously gone wrong,
she who disappeared
     from her small hometown
     in central Iowa sad swan song
now plays, where every
     last drop of sorrow rung,
now weeping family, friends,
     relatives, et cetera subjected wrack

with lifelong emotional pain,
     which searing inescapable
     grief twill unrelentingly track
ferociously, fiercely, and figuratively,
     doth disallow recourse
     to duck away
     from heart wrenching quack
king unbearably, terribly, and scathingly

     will fully bill leave ably
     beak homing a folly,
     mockery, and travesty,
     sans time heals
     all wounds (truly "FAKE"),
     nonetheless psyche riving tragic
     (irrevocable loss) doth pack,
a punch greater then any

     all star olympic pugilist
     straight to the ab
domain of opponent, where
     rumor mongers mill and blab
how this, that, or
another potential suspect,...
     whence tissues dab
corners of crying eyes,

     an endless stream
     of tears merge with gab
bulling utter dis belief
     questioning the supposed all
mighty, or at a loss
     to do nothing but bawl (at Baal)

into the fox sized rabbit hole
     trying with futility
     to block (even crawl
ling into every
     rabbit hole) no bastion
against implacable
     maddening crowded
house alive with murderous frenzy,

     and a dialect (non
     tickling) gentle Iowan drawl,
while once again this
     affected soddenly wet soul
cannot process any (defying) logic,
     asper the impossibly steep toll
the purposelessness killing,
     a lovely gal (same age

     as my youngest daughter),
     whose missed presence,
     (albeit her - slain
     Mollie Tibbetts – permanent absence)
     now created an expansive
     infinite black sink hole.

— The End —