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Waves crash like your dreams
Changing and always rolling toward the shore
Loves are sea splattered
Your smiles are beach drenched
Seaweed in your hair
And you present a mystery
a blaze of stars*
decorate the bush sky's darkness
a blaze of stars
their lighting is like glitter bars
twinkling in arraying brightness
exhibiting beautifulness  
*a blaze of stars
Love carried on the whistling wind,
It screamed your tag initially,
Now in a wild whirling whisper when you wonder what each message spells.
Semaphore and smoke signals, carried on the winter wind as storms collide within your eyes.
Deities of chaos, went and wrote a book of words.
In shreds of insular letters written on ice, in crystal clouds.
Something like I love you.
In Sanskrit symbols, carved in old woods.
Where women run naked, who say that it's good.
And all the information thereby, carried on that whistling wind.
(c)LIVVI
~

we the people,
long have known
the write of
passages and poems,
whether bellwether,
envisionist or revisionist,
too oft have thought
this journey long,
and weight of hope and change
to another there belongs;
yet i subscribe
that we as scribes,
can right this ship,
not merely write it's wrongs;
for we it's pride
with hearts ascribe,
and note-by-note,
as carpenters and soldiers,
we its authors and its poets,
in words, in deeds,
writers, of a patriot’s song;
with deepest definition,
and inner soul reflection,
it's stanza, chorus, bridges,
we must lovingly inscribe.

~

*post script.

i know i am but one of many, who disillusioned, feel alienated, and could just as easily choose withdrawal as my reaction to our nation’s political plight. this then my belief, my plea, my hope we’ll see, withdrawal is not an option, that our words, deeds and even our writings carry weight, and bring with them hope and change to each community within which we each serve.  we are not merely writers of our history... we are authors of our destiny!  

if you are not an American, hope and pray for us, please, for we desperately need your support!!   if you are, pick up the pen... pick up the charge... be the change!!
Such a wonderful thing
To stay up late for.
To stay awake for.
To stay trapped inside this moment
Feeding on your foundation
And living in that look on your face
For.
Sad is the day when a man carries a gun,
to end a life and sow the seed of hate,
divide and deconstruct what has taken eons to build,
reckless and selfish this prophecy occurs,
to what end does the man have,
in their own mind of misfiring thoughts,
lies create alternate reality,
bullets need not be fired,
words and understanding will heal,
together we will build and strengthen,
divided we fall.
Why does this happen? To much hate.
 Jul 2016 Silence Screamz
N
Nikola
 Jul 2016 Silence Screamz
N
Your tiny hiccups break
the silence of a room full
of mechanical people with their
perfectly rehearsed
Cheshire Cat grins
and
I move like a marionette puppet
that had too much coffee
except
this interruption in my system
is caused by the
electricity
that surged through
my stomach
when we locked eyes
so now I feel
sick
but in an oddly pleasant way
I'm sure
Tesla would have been so
ecstatic
about our spark
 Jul 2016 Silence Screamz
K G
My skin is made for the eyes hatred, what my parents never said
That its lunacy and it's all in my head, 7 years of what my parents said
From my sight, from what I'm brain fed
Gun shots, fireworks, and explosions are now pinching the imperfect night shift
Go run for the fire escape, but first tilt and flip over the candle sticks
Then hear the screams of them ignifying between the excessive crevices
I will be gone forever by the time you're fearing this
Eternal journey of mistakes, vows, loves, and spurns
Angels have passed, burned and have been mutilated to the dirt
Little did I know, each second is a high point of concern
Lately my unfenced self-esteem has been exceedingly porous
Since he, the amorphous monster that has pulled closer to our forest
Began to ****** his way in
And I vow to stay in, as long as earth doesn't become heavily horrid
 Jul 2016 Silence Screamz
Ja
Trolls and moles, this way did pass
But they can all, kiss my ***
I’ve neither maligned nor defamed
And am surprised, to be blamed
But, I bear no malice or intent
I’m only left, with this putrid scent
BOEMS BY JA 576
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