Husna Shahan Apr 2015

He was standing there
Gazing at her
Captivated as though
He was watching a wonder...❤️

Her hair spread fragrance
Her eyes spelled magic...
She was a miracle
That defied every logic...❤️

He couldn't help but wonder
The beauty she held
Was it for real
Or some charms spelled....❤️

If magic exists in her!
kim bye Feb 2012

on the green
hole 8, and five over par
southern california sunshine numb
leaning on a putting iron
leaning on a fistful of xanax
i had given up on the game a long time ago
just didn't know it yet
my friend was strung out on speed and coke
"breakfast of champions", he said
he had been aimlessly whacking the ball for the last hour
"fifty bucks to whoever hits Brian Wilson" he suddenly yelled!
sure enough, there was Brian Wilson,
standing by the mexican food-truck,
waiting for a taco or burrito or God knows what
i felt xanax confident
so i walked over and shook his hand
i told him thank you,
and that his music probably saved my life
"probably" he asked?
"yes" i said, and walked away
i told my friend to take some xanax and chill out
"xanax is just xanax spelled backwards" he said
and i could not argue with that
we never finished that round of golf,
but somehow i still feel like i won

Lightning and thunder and little pitter patter,
Snowfall and coffee and Halloween masks,
Orange and red and all the color leaves,
Couldn’t distract from that beauty you hold,

Like complimenting colors the world turns,
The sun shines from all angles upon you,
Whispering those soft secrets in my ear,
You’re like a new color on the painter’s palette.

A color I call Beau.

-July 8th 2013

C S Cizek Oct 2014

Is it my counter-counterclockwise
mind wasting time? Elbows
on the dining table pulling my angel
hair into grid-like times tables.
I’m invested in this non-conversation
table. Ich liebe dich, mein Freund.
I’ve got commitment issues and four-ply
tissues for when my eye lashes start
peeling apart. My grandpa died in 2005
and I’m all but over it. I’m holding
his kite string, but the reel is almost done,
like VHS tapes rewound then fast-forwarded
to the good times. Power Ranger birthday
and everyone’s wearing dunce caps
with elastic chin straps ‘til they snap.
Snap! Snap! Snap me back to three-years-old,
and I’m singing in a Robin costume
‘cause I knew I’d always be second best.
I had an identity crisis around fourteen,
so I stopped buying sunglasses
because I found myself in other
peoples’ shadows. But now the only shadows
they’re casting are the ones from their headstones
and from the fields of flowers cradling
them like they once cradled me.

Fast-forward, I’m genuflecting in gym shorts
before myself in a mirror smudged with plum
felt. And I seem small compared to my life
spelled out in Expo marker markings.

I poem for my deceased relatives, especially my Grandpa Cizek. I miss you all every day.
And so it goes Jan 2014

A four legged animal
Called mans best friend
Always has time for me
and a ear to lend

He sits there so patiently
as I pour out my heart.
Its like he wants to heal me
but has no clue where to start.

He places his little paw on my hand
like everything will be okay.
Whoever thought I'd get this love from
an animal especially a stray ?!?

He looks up at me like he knows
what is going through my mind.
How can something that speaks no words
be so patient and so kind ?

Those deep brown eyes look up at me
like owner don't you cry
And then I look back at him
and its like God just told me "Why".

madyson shaye Apr 2014

I don't even know you,
I don't even know you,
I don't even know you,

the last time I felt my hands shake from someone I'd never met was last September when it was hot before it had gotten cold and my intentions were unclear. I don't know what I'm doing here really but you probably noticed that by how I walked around for four miles before I noticed my pockets were inside out.
I don't even know you fuck I wish that I knew you
I wonder what your voice sounds like I really really wonder and I wonder often, too often, I want to know what your voice sounds like when it's happy and sad, hurt and excited, when it's simply acknowledging the way I look at you a tad too often for it to be a coincidence so my mind will stop with the images of you smiling at me.
you don't even know me, would you like to know me? please get to know me
at the rate I'm going, I'll be on the moon before I get you to notice me and that's not okay with me. I wish there was some way for me to get a microphone and tell you I think you're really cute but that's probably not as romantic as it seems in my head. maybe I'll print out this poem and put it on your car window like a parking ticket you can't afford one day before you leave work and see how you react. I definitely will not be doing that because odds are you'd look around you slowly and lock all your doors extra tight for the next few weeks. why can't this just be easy? easy easy easy. I want you to be easy but if you were I probably wouldn't want you this bad and that's fucking stupid. fuck me. (please). I saw you laugh today and I had to bend down behind a wall because I was giggling and that's just ridiculous because I don't even know what you were laughing about or what your laugh sounds like but oh god babe, oh god I want too. I want too, I want too, I want too, I want you. I do.
I don't even know you, I don't even know you, but oh, I plan to know you so well one day. I will know you so well one day.
I don't even know you
I don't even know you
I don't even know you

it rings through my ears like an obnoxiously loud and completely distracting beeping no one else can hear except me but no matter how many times my brain spells it out in refrigerator magnets I refuse to stop thinking about you. this is the second poem I've started like that because those three lines hold my hope for something more, to one day know something other than the way your polo is never quite tucked in right and how you only work close shifts on weekends, those three lines are a layer on overlay, refusing to allow my head to turn to look at the way you're wiping down the counter, at the way you're walking to the back of the store, the way you shake your head, the way you close your eyes, the way you pat the little girls head and call her sweetie, the way you have yet to notice I'm noticing all these ways you do your things because I am so utterly infatuated with your name. it started with your name on a piece of paper asking who that was because it was cute and unique, then a reply saying you were the one who worked at the other side of the store who resembled a 12 year old boy, followed by my complete satisfaction and hidden laugh because yes you fucking did and you were the cutest 12 year old boy I've ever had the wish to know. if I can write about you off of a few glances what will come out of me when your hand touches mine? I have no desire to compare you to past lovers or crushes, I have no desire to pick and poke and prod and fuck up like I have the horrible tendency to do, I only want to know you. I want to know you like the sun knows her place behind the mountains at 6 p.m. when I'm taking the long way through work just so I can see you one more time before I leave, I want to know you like my next lover, my next name written in hearts in my notebook, my next butterflies and anxiety attacks, my next muse, my next reason to giggle at my phone, my next something. my next anything.
I want to know you.
I want to know you as well as I know the ticking of the clock, as well as I know the way my own hand moves when it's onto something good. I want to know you beautifully, wonderfully, completely, I want to skip the niceties and completely explode all over you. I'm in the place right between wanting to know your middle name and being overwhelmed with curiosity in an empty parking lot filled with curiosity and wonder and your cute name written in refrigerator magnets.
give me a slice of your mind. I'm fucking starving.

Jack Savage Sep 2013

A wind so strong it stripped the Putrid from sky.
Stripped the Dead from their light.
Stripped the Silence from night.

It carried their Souls.
As Easy as leaves.
Greed bleeds the flowers Green.

The toll of War is cold.
Only meadow holds Peace.
But Peace without doubt,
Cannot be relief.


A wake brings Sleep.
A Dark new day.
Deaf ears so Meek.
As Quakes lay waste.

A Wind so strong it pulls, not pushes,
The Whispers of warriors and their Flags, before this.
Knocks on the doors and calls to their Whores,
Like Poison dripped to the Bottom of a Bottle neck; Sonorous.

A Fever like Fervor,
A Mist that once knew Her,
A Glass that's now Empty,
On a Sunset spelled Murder.

Crutches and caskets filled with coffins filled with crosses filled with crushing expectations

You are here now though I remember
You're in my dreams because you're my dream-girl

Blackness coming through the bright coming through ballooned faces coming through crowds who'd have it that angels come down and drag them into the sky

Now I'm without you though our fingers touch
I'll be someone new with someone new

Keren May 2016

Let's start reminiscing
Remember how you said No, this isnt love.
How on earth did we end up like this?
I was into You.
You were a hunter.
I was a dear.
I was willing to be Killed
with a Kiss of gun,
And be Alive.

This contains your name.
beautyshesmear Jul 2015

I would like to have a moment,
with you
behind the locked door.

See, this voice of yours
its made my vision sore.

Red and Swollen around the image
of you that is too heavy
and I don't want to carry it around anymore.

Ive made promises.
your face will never reach
the indention of my ink.

But you know,
the funny thing about promises
they to
are too heavy.

They sink,
to the depths
of the front step
of that spelled door

You are locked behind.

I wouldn't mind
if I couldn't hear you singing...

You pull my memories to the floor,
and you scatter them around
that door

A Mind Field
explosive to the

Its funny
cause ironically
thats how I don't get caught...
turning the knob.

It was
suppose to be
my job.

To lock you out.
I know...

The distance between us,
is in vain.

But, if I let you open,
I will be slain...

by the stare
the edges of black hair.

Song would boom and blair,
and shake every corner
of sense
I have left to bare.

of my soul song...

It is only spelled
it is you who casts it.


And strums
at the heels
of my steps..

that echo

As I leave you,
behind the spelled door
once more.

Sag Nov 2015

I'll try not to forget the first time I felt you looking at my white shoes and gold shirt and the way i tried to hide my rosy cheeks each time my eyes scanned the gym to find yours meeting my gaze from across the court. I'll try not to forget the way you got nervous when I showed interest and how you wanted to hold my hand but couldn't. I'll try not to forget how desperately you wanted to kiss me in attendance recovery but couldn't. I'll try not to forget how many times you watched 500 Days of Summer in my absence and all 500 similarities you contrived between that pretty girl with the heart shaped tattoo on the bike in the elevator on the rooftop and the one standing in front of you with a hidden scar down her chest flowers in her hair a crooked smile.
Ill try not to forget how many times you tried to be my friend because I told you that was what I wanted and how many times you couldn't bear that. I'll try not to forget the time you walked to my house in the dark just to read words in the dictionary on a mattress with me.

I'll try to forget the days when those words transformed into the absence of them.

I'll try not to forget the books we found at the flea market and the plant soil you spilled in my car and the talks we had late at night in your driveway and the fear of your mother finding out you were with a girl. I'll try not to forget the difference between sesame and teriyaki chicken because I always thought both looked disgusting but they made you happy so I appreciated them. Ill try not to forget the first night I slept in your bed and the innocently hesitant neck kisses. I'll try not to forget the night you desperately wanted to kiss me- and then desperately kissing you.
And how bad it was,
but how it made the sun shine brighter in that dark room than it ever has outside at noon.
I'll remember intimate conversations and the first time I told you I loved you and the way you didn't believe me and the months we spent not sure of what we wanted and how that uncertainty faded as the warm weather did and how the cold no longer comes from the winter but from the absence of your smile when I wake
I'll remember what you said about absence and this time I'll agree with you; absence makes the heart full and fond and full of longing, not hollow.

I'll remember the start in hopes of never having to try to forget an ending.

Never Joy // Ed Tullett
GaryL Oct 2015

he is my demented extension
twin menace from another dimension
an entity of an inner dissension
committing sins too grim to mention

residing deep inside
a dividing of my mind
i can't find nowhere to hide
i'm fighting the undefined

he is my conflicted cognition
me and him are a different depiction
i don't fit this inflicted condition
his misery is my living constriction

residing deep inside
a dividing of my mind
i can't find nowhere to hide
i'm fighting the undefined

Bianca E Rangel Jan 2013

What pray tell is it I so deeply remember?

Was it the way his eyes fell upon mine?
And threatened to suck me in

Perhaps it was when the conversation fell below the water
Or the way my words were lost in the darkest of night

Maybe when he stole my breath in the purest of sins
Was it when I felt his trembling form beneath my fingers

How could I ever forget his hypnotic voice
That poured over me like honey

Or the arms that enveloped me
And the hands that kept me warm

When it came to say goodbye, and farewells were said
I knew, he would one day return

Back to my bed

Even though many years have passed since I've seen my prince
And I've grown old and withered instead

The mirror still spoke the same, "You my queen, are a fool"

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