marked:  hazardous materials.  
special handling required;  

contaminants.  corrosives.  
radiation.  explosives.­  
pathogens.  psychosis.
before even touching this
you need to know this:
it was a cure for war,
a solution to pain.
it was something that should
never be attempted again.
it was chaos, it was peace

it was the last second of time
before either of us chose to speak.


now the moment has passed, the HAZMAT crews amass
i mention casually as they put on their gloves
"is there usually so much destruction"
replied "what do you expect from love?"

your soul was so electric
your body so tempting
and mind so daring
and now whats left of you?
i've left you alone
and it's my fault that
you've drowned in yourself
but darling..
i'm no good for you
i'll break your heart
cause i'm simply numb
and it wont affect me
but you used to be so vibrant
but your eyes are now grey
your smile is now vacant
and your heart has been taken away
im sorry i'm uncapable of returning it

Death caught her young,
While a tumor grew in her head it felt as though one was growing in my heart,
A mere child let in eternal peril!
Her inevitable end brought my never ending damnation,
How dare the supposed god end a life before it began,
At only seven barely knowing the true horrors,
I watched as the life perished in her eyes,
As she became incapable of self-care I became incapable of tears,
Even in her demise I could not cry,
I was as cold as her purple lifeless body,
Her casket open while people in black shed tears,
As only a child I could not comprehend the hurt
But now I carry it with me everywhere,
A I watched her body put into the ground that pain the one I was uncapable of then now fills me,
Each visitation a constant reminder of the dear child lost,
I lost a friend,A mother lost her daughter and some just lost hope,
There became pain in my world once death entered
And though I could not shed tears for my beloved friend then I do now,
Because now I see all that I lost and all that could've been oh so different.

Quiet whispers,
And thoughtless imaginations
Fulfill the truth
That lies within the heart.
The heart beats,
And uncontrollable defeats
With anger
And other stuff that contrast
The fears,
From damaging and preparing
It self to one’s peers,
That lies still,
And speak quiet whisper
In one’s ears,
With debatable beliefs
From the hard cold tears
That stays in the corner
Of one’s eye that
Makes it hard to fall,
And even easier to not
Cry.
The dents in the pillow to
Where one head rest and lay,
And the mind, body, and
Soul
Is released to God
To help the gray
That takes over your life,
Vanish and disappear
Which you is uncapable
Of controlling,
With quiet whispers.
And little whimpers,
That no one hears but you.
God take me to the point of
This poems,
Help my reader read,
And understand that my
Words are true.
I am itching to be loved.
I wonder if that itch really had
Grew.




-Marci H.

I lay here waiting in my skin for the tearing of the membrane
that seperates this world from the next one and I let myself
get carried along by a fresh stream of reasoning until I
flare up in the dark like a new species of amoeba

this balancing and spinning around on an atom and just not
falling off it becomes boring at times and maybe because of that
sporules once landed here to grant us the possibility
of another possibility

I lay here waiting and I manage not to drown just like only
an almost newborn baby can and being born in 1983
means nothing here in the swelling infinity
of the abnormal

my skin has been waiting for new atmospheres for decades
and the touch of unknown forms makes me shudder with
raw impervious happiness because invisible energy
effervesces alongside my arms and the eyes in my skull
could be anyone’s right now

suddenly the waiting is forgotten and I wallow myself
in the gathered fairy tales of every soul that preceded me
carelessly astonished and uncapable of understanding
the seriousness of this absurd life

inside me irrational poetry dances
like a tribe jumping around a bonfire

outside the universe
dances her own eternity
round and round

Alone is a lonely word
You take from me and I give you more
Never expecting that type of love
The one that only legends  get
Help me see myself as you see me
The wonderful me that doesn't exist
The shameless, useless me
Rescue my soul from the end
No, I don't care if you go but please come back
Help me feel empty inside
The way you always fill my heart
Tear me and bring me to pieces
So that I could never repair
Just scream, and yell and show me how much you care.

Love, i know i've been waiting in vain...we are missing things to hold on to,but no matter time or reason, i won't let you go. I can't. It's beyond me,i've found myself uncapable to forget, i blame it on your smile wich hunts my dreams.

How i feel You when i  hear the blues, i got the sorrow on the freezing nghts,so heavyhearted and cold no longer emotion comes from me, except except when i'm with you; hapiness that's what you are.
Ironic,we've come and go but through all we stick together, that's how much i carry you...changes,pain,hapiness, age and even lovers.Yes, i must accept you've made weak and crazy.

You've also made strong, strong enough to let you in and give it all, to be humble and caring.To fight for a dead romance in the middle of our games ,with the rest of a broken heart ,you ,just you ,will always be in every piece of it ,every single piece of the forever.

Every word he said was meant,
Every promise he made he kept.
And apparently you didnt get the hint,
All escaped you while you slept.

Everyday he was at a loss of words.
Uncapable of being able to say,
I want to fly free with the birds
And To mold our love out of clay.

All was at a loss,
Nothing more to look forword for.
Everything covered in moss,
Tattered and washed up to shore.

He couldnt say what he meant,
Couldnt give what he wanted to get.
Forgotten about like pocket lint,
He has no fish in his net.

Rude, ugly, hated upon, disrespectful, selfish,unwanted, loner,spoiled. That's what they see and think, but if you were to actually take the time you would see the complete opposite. You see I think the same things about myself, but carry myself other wise, as to be putting on a show. To changes the mind of a few would take the effort of changing a million, it takes the respect for oneself to gain that of others. It takes accepting you before others can do the same, but there has always been the question of what accepting yourself means.. You see l live in this Fantasy world. I live in a society that being weird isn't okay, and because you're weird and stand out you do not fit in with the mold, because my hair doesn't fall a certain way, it is not the right texture or I do not have the perfect curls. I am different ,Where loosing your virginity seems to be a trend rather than achieving the things people said you cannot.Because being thin, having a natural beauty, being tall is the best thing. I live in a society that has done nothing but made me feel so uncomfortable with my self because I am not what they define as beautiful... I live in a society that seems to be my one true enemy. As if I was born in the wrong generation as to test my ability of what it is to live. But it's is not just the physical things, it is the emotional and mental. This society had taught us to never show what it is we feel, we much not show one another our weakness's because that leaves us vulnerable. Vulnerable to what? I have never really understood why we cannot strive to be our own people, why we must be like one another. I have never really understood , why were seen and being depressed because we naturally are able to feel more sadness than others, why those are seen as being suicidal because they have come to realize that they are not ready for what this society has to offer, they are not ready to live somewhere they are seen as being uncapable, where talking is a chance to give more pills, where talking is seen as a sign of an action soon to follow. But I cannot speak for those suffering, it is me I can only speak for.  Which at times seems even the slight impossible to do, because I find myself wanting to believe that I am not like what I am seen as.. Where one day no one will have to see scars to know your aren't okay, that realizing talking is really only the best you can do for some people, and because I am writing this doesn't mean that I am " depressed" or " suicidal" . It just means that I am one more person who is able to express the way they feel, I am one more person who is able to keep going, because I am 17 and my life is an open book, each chapter is different, but will connect in one way or another , because sadness will always be my foundation, finding the light will be my only goal and the Beginning of every chapter....

I saw a chimpanzee baby,
getting raised by a dog.
I saw an elderly man
cut his food for his uncapable wife
and
I saw a young couple looking at them
wanting to grow old together just the same.
I saw my mother
taking care of her new baby
now we have grown up.
I saw my uncle taking care of me
(He knows we haven't).
A woman trying to find a childs new home.
A child saving an ant from death.
And a boy replacing a girl's bad memories with good ones.
It reminds me, that it's not so bad.

The poppie plant blooms to the most beautiful flowers. It is called the Flower of Joy, the colors, the tranquility and how they can absorb you is one of a kind. And when they cut the bulb before it blooms, it bleeds *****.

In the Wizard of OZ, the field to the castle of OZ, was a Poppie field. Where, Dorothy, The Tin Man, The Cowardly Lion, The Scarecrow and Toto, caught a nap.

Alexander the Great used this flower to conquer the world. He gave it to his army to quite the hurting and to help and motivate the fighters from the pain of fighting.

Great Briton used it to control and suppress China and to make money to grow their kingdom.

It was then turned into Morphine and ****** in the late 1800's, legalized and taxed. It came in many forms of elixirs and then turned into big business. It could actually be purchased out of a Sears and Roebuck Catalog, where you could purchase it and get it in the mail. They could get their daily usage along with a syringe for a mere $1.95.

It was one thing of a few things that brought ****** to his knees when they cut the ***** supply to Germany. That stop his drug making for his soldiers that left them useless. His scientist then he invented methadone but it was to late.

In Afghanistan where the majority of ***** is produce, our army has only cut down a few of the poppie fields, only to know it will make it's way to the US. What could be their reason and motivation. Is it to help each economy though blood money.  

In today's world it is controlled by War Lord in the east, the south, and the orient, shipped to many different countries  in many unusually ways. Yet some of it to be purchased by large pharmaceutical companies.  

This innocent beautiful flower, that brings only joy to the eyes has been misused by man since 3400BC believe it or not. The death that it has left behind is uncapable of being calculated.

You are lucky,* because you have your parents with you,
some kid out there are longing for their parent's hug, kiss, comfort
which unfortunately they can't have

You are lucky, because you are surrounded by good friends around you,
Have you ever experienced having no one beside you?
having fake people around you,
who claims themselves as the true one but their only purpose is to put you down?

You are lucky, because you can move and see things freely,
How about the people who are uncapable of doing that?
blind* people who can't see the beauty that God has given us,
deaf people who can't express their feelings and so on

You are lucky, because you are given a chance to learn everything,
Poverty hits us, the main thing that is affected is education
Many people wants to learn and you are lucky that you've been given a chance to be one of them

Do you ever think how lucky you are?
But why are we not contented?
Instead of being thankful,
Why do people always crave for something more?

*"Craving is suffering."

Just kidding
No, I won't falter
Falter my guard
Guarding myself
From harm

Just kidding
No, I won't let
Anyone near
Won't let my 
Chilled heart
Be warm

Just kidding,
No more flowers
Happy-feely thoughts
That cloud up
My mind

Just kidding,
No, I won't play
Won't push next
But would rather,
Pause and rewind

Just morphing
Back into having
A chilled heart
That's uncapable
Of feeling anything

Numb
'Til the flowers
Grow back

i owe you a confession
i'll never be yours again

as to why, i'm sure you know, but we keep lulling ourselves with the lies of a perfect utopia, where we can continue to frolic in the endless meadows, not a care to the problems of the world

i owe you a confession
i love you
but you disgust me

so deeply i keep on denying, i keep on telling myself that it's just the guilt of not being with you
the guilt of what could have been
but when we are pressed against each other in a tight embrace, and i pull back, and look into your eyes
there is no perfection
there is no shameless love

there's only sorry

you're sorry for what you did, sorry you still feel for me
i'm sorry that i can't just move on, that i can't just make myself feel

sorry that i like toying with you
sorry that you let me do it without even noticing

and you are probably too nervous for words
and i'm probably too nervous for actions
because we both know we should just kiss and deal with it
let the world perish around us as the flames of our romance burn up the place
let our eyes flutter shut, let our heartbeats drum against each other in a frenzy like no other

but you are too afraid to ask
and i'm too afraid to do

not because it would be right
not because it would be wrong
but because it would shout a truth we both don't want to hear
that however perfect we are for each other
we are uncapable of loving without fear, loving without hoping for change, for something else, for something better

and we can't look away

once i was yours
but you were drunk with my trust, blindly staggering in the sea of possibilities, getting dragged away from shore
but i looked on and let you drift away
that's when i knew we weren't meant to be

i let myself be fooled

i let myself be told that i am loved, to the face, while i knew about the knife behind your back
and oh it came down with sweet slow agony, slicing, ripping me apart like nothing before

but we kept on smiling
we keep on smiling still
and in our smiles there's the truth shouting that we don't want to listen to

that my smile hides pity
while yours hides hope
and i'm disgusted by myself for making you believe i only flinch in surprise when you touch me
that i let myself relax when you embrace me
that i feel a kindling in my hear when you go down on one knee and offer your soul to me

but there's only horror inside

because i realise now that we are equals

It was not your ordianary Monday
for it was all mourning.
Just wanted that day to end
for my heart was broken.
It was never easy to be okay
for I was terribly hurting.
Just when will it all stop
for I am in need of healing.

Broken it is, unmeandable.
My heart is torn, uncapable.
It scorches inside, untolerable.
Like my being been ruined, uncurable.

Oh, it is hurting, tormenting.
When will it stop?
The pain is to much.

Esperaba algo, no sabía que.
La muerte susurraba sus canciones más bonitas
en mi boca de amante impura
y yo la besaba, jugando con ella,
sin llegar a amarle como ella me pedía,
sin llegar al sacrificio por ella deseado.
Pero ella me amaba y me ama,
y sus labios perfectos endulzan
poco a poco mi corazón incapaz de amor.
Tal vez este sea el primero.

//

I waited for something, I didn't know what.
Death whispered their most beautiful songs
in my mouth of impure lover
and I kissed them, playing with them,
not coming to love them like they asked me to,
not getting to the sacrifice wished by them.
But they loved me and love me,
and their perfect lips sweeten
little by little my heart uncapable of love.
Maybe this will be the first one.

I wonder if I can get a correct answer by asking the community, and with less effort.  Plus, I offer the community the opportunity to impart wisdom....though I seem to have a mental block, because I've actually looked it up before (more than once)
Anyways...please tell me....
Who was it who said,
"Not all who wander are lost"
?
Maybe I won't forget this time.  
I feel it common knowledge, I am uncapable of having
(This somehow feels poetic, to me)

I've seen the nature of my ways
Been the things that I've heard others say
Tried to become that thing
Presented my best at least
in practice to stumble and fall
is falling all the same.
I am such a conundrum anymore
So used to not aiming for
the same things I think I'm needing
upending the clay beneath my feet
into disorganized heaps all around
a hole my efforts seem single mindedly
hellbent on creating without a muse to guide me
I am not great. not today.
these days of safety and of others
trying and hoping are wasted
not for not trying but, I am still the same
one who pretends to have a hold
dawns an determined grimace with
two more so eyes that surely communicate
how uncapable the soul inside is
struggles with weaknesses and chemicals
mixed inconsistently to a cocktail of wasted potential
im not okay.  not today.
not at all, i don't change
only I don't want to trust
not anyone, most not myself
not wont, just don't, I don't expect
any less from anyone
I am clueless and I am of little faith of what there is left in me to continue being so
not okay. no.

The moon is bigger on the dark side,
But I'm moved by the waves of the bright side.
I hide, but I always know
What is it the I hide,
So what's the point?

Inside my missing spaces
I find my own pieces,
In what empty space I fill me,
If I'm defined by my emptiness?

How do I define me with words
Hollow as a flight in space,
Precise and distant definitions,
Incapable of adjusting to a vague chaos,
Only understandable by the light of a microscope,
Unaccessible to signs,
Dissonant of what I feel,
Of a laughable ungrace?

I run from what defines me,
From my sentimental proofs,
I locate myself in what takes me far from home.

I'm uncapable of recognizing me
For I look in the mirror, and I recognize myself:
I know I never had blue eyes,
I know how my hair was, and how it's not anymore,
I know healed wounds hurt more.

I've lived for 500.000 kilometers
Never counted the travels around my world,
But I keep going,
Map and territory,
Language and message,
Thoughts and actions,
Sailing through matter and frequency
Through the ocean that keeps me apart from the world.

I want to change only socializing at work.
I want to change how I beat myself up over the past.
I want to change how my thoughts being negative about my past.
I want to change how lonely I feel sitting my bedroom thinking of a better life.
I want to change how stupid I feel when I have no words for my feelings.
I want to change how my family think of my love life. I am not hopeless or stupid or uncapable of thinking for myself. I can consent to my own life as insane I am. I accept my madness. I accept the messed up past. I accept the negative thoughts I have.
I accept that there will always be drama no matter where I go. My life is not a debate. I am still human. I have flaws and I accept them.
No one has a right to my love life. The poems that I write are personal I get to choose who publishes them.