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 May 2018 zero
B J Clement
Midnight and the house is still, you are alone in the near darkness.
A solitary candle flickers before you making the shadows dance.
In front of you, on the table, lies a blank sheet of paper.
You long to write but words elude and subjects are sparse, elusive.
Concentrate on the page before you. Nothing,
Try harder now, imagine that you are looking through the paper, to a world beyond. Did you hear that cry? was it a lamb looking for it's mother, or the cry of a frightened child?
You hear another cry, and the flash of a gunshot illuminates the  edge of the distant forest. In the darkness you can hear many voices calling in the distance. They are angry strident calls.
A horseman gallops out of the darkness, he is bleeding from a head wound. He cradles a little girl in his arms. As he turns his mount out of the field and onto the road he is approached by a young woman, who was waiting there, tear full and apprehensive.  She cries out in anguish as she takes the child into her arms and sobs with relief.
The horse man lifts her up onto the horse and they hurry off along the Dover road. All but one of their pursuers give up the chase, but he is more determined, spurred on by hatred! He will never give up ever! Keep looking now, where are they going, and from whom are they running and why? What does the future hold for them, disaster or happiness? Realize that their future is now in your hands, so WRITE ON!
 May 2018 zero
B J Clement
My Dear Calpernia Mockingbird- once again your voice I heard, singing in the night.
With joy my heart was over filled, and deep within my soul I thrilled, to hear such joyous sounds, echoing the glades around, serene, profound.
I wish I had the sight, to see you dancing in the night, with graceful step to delight, the eye, but mist and moonlight both combined to hide your form, and make me blind and I could only stand and stare- and be content to hear you there, singing in the night.
Being charmed I fell asleep, lulled by your song in slumber deep- to dream of you once more ascending, to that starlit realm unending, there to take your ease.That you are mortal I am aware, and know that you are truly fair- so please don't make me wait too long, to find enchantment in your song!
 Apr 2018 zero
Melissa S
Dark Day
 Apr 2018 zero
Melissa S
Some days I do not
want to wake up
the day just seems darker somehow
There is no particular reason
I am feeling down
I just am...

I have been trying to come up
with some explanation and cannot
maybe I am just tired
maybe I am PMSing
maybe I just need to get some

Whatever the reason
It is not like I can just snap
my fingers and get it over it
Like some people close
to me have suggested

What I really need
is someone to pull me
into their computer out there
and hug me and don't let me go
I want to stay for a bit with you
until I am not feeling so blue
 Jan 2018 zero
EMD
Invisible
 Jan 2018 zero
EMD
Memories
Are like
Invisible ink
You can’t see it
But that doesn’t mean
That they aren’t there
 Jan 2018 zero
Krista DelleFemine
I wrote you fifty poems, and somehow you let the one I wrote about him break your heart.
 Dec 2017 zero
a
12.7.17
 Dec 2017 zero
a
why can't anyone
just anyone
be proud of me for once in my ******* life?
 Dec 2017 zero
kas
this is how it happens
it's the last day the temperature will be
above thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit
until February
you're not looking at the date
it's just the end of November
the middle of the night in the middle of a road
at the end of November
the hum of this small town hurts your ears
you're stuck in a dream where everything you see
turns into a weapon
this is how it happens
you knocked back sharp, amber liquid
to make this place feel a little more okay
and it only worked halfway
no matter how soft the edges are
you bruise your hips when you
run into them in the dark
you're ******* on your fourth cigarette when
a police officer pulls over and asks
how you're doing today
in the too-bright white of the headlights
the sick taste of Red Stag sticks to
the roof of your mouth
the mouth that you're moving into a smile
the mouth exhaling plumes of smoke at the ground
you're okay
"i'm okay."
you don't tell him what you're really doing
you're really taking all of your
thoughts about stopping your pulse for a walk
you don't tell him you've been
chasing ambulances all night long
please, officer don't leave me alone, you don't say
he tells you to have a good night and drives away
and this is how it happens
the moon smiles at you with every single one
of its tiny, sharp teeth
nobody but your cat finds you in that bathtub
nobody but your cat watches you rise from red water
watches it drip drip drip
from every chasm carved in your left arm
nobody but your cat saw the soft animal of your soul
shiver from the cold that day
it's the first day the temperature
dropped below
thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit inside your chest
based on true events
 Nov 2017 zero
alex
when a boy shows you his hands
bare except for the dust
he’s begging you to look past
take them in yours.
squeeze them once.
twice.
say without speaking
that you understand that the valleys
in his palms were meant to cradle
shooting star wishes
that he’s allowed to still hope for.
when a boy shows you his eyes
of milk and crimson and melanin
a bloodshot vein for every night he can’t sleep
let him shut his eyelids.
say without speaking
that you understand that the black hole pinpricks
of his irises hold more than the universe
should allow.
when a boy shows you his soul
shivering but still working toward friction
iced over but still working toward melting
let him come to rest next to yours.
say without speaking
that you understand that he is lonely
and that his silence speaks volumes
and that you kept his treasure close
because you love him.
when a boy shows you his hands
show him your hands.
when a boy shows you his eyes
show him your eyes.
when a boy shows you his soul
show him that
this is a comfortable place to rest it.
when a boy shows you the hardness that shaped him
show him the softness
that you have in store.
k
 Nov 2017 zero
Marion
Crushed flowers are beautiful,
dried, pressed
not useful but certainly nice to look at
My sister affectionately called me a 'delicate little flower' one of the many times you made me break down, crushed from false accusation
until i eventually dried up
pressed myself until the pain no longer hurt.
I wondered why i had become such a fragile thing
shouldn't heartbreak build you up, a learning experience rather than reducing you to a few petals and a stem.
i feel more like a tree
green and great during the warm summer months
unaware of the freezing winter winds that will blow away all my protective leaves. barren. cold.
i hope someday i will become evergreen
beautiful, tall, luscious and full- pine or cedar or spruce
staying fragrant all year round

but for now i remain a daisy
nothing special
dried, pressed and crushed between these pages, within these words.
wrote this after my biology exam today
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