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Life as a Drop of WaterDown I go,
Racing with my brothers,
Singing with my sisters.
My life is hardly still,
Around and around I go,
Never do a place I stay.
My house is where ever I am,
Under the trees, under the stars,
Around the wild life,
That's the best place to be!
But then the relatives come,
Dropping from the sky,
My home is so crowded,
Some of us die,
But that's the circle of life,
For in their death,
New life springs forth!
I am only seen,
As a whole of my family,
Hardly ever just as myself,
For I am merely,
A drop of water,
Living a high strung life.
More than Just FriendsGuinea pigs and sunshine,
Cloudy days and tears,
The island we would own,
If in our life time,
We are able.
Together we are strong,
One giant happy family,
With our fill of ups and downs.
We are a recipe cooked to perfection,
with the right amount
of good and bad,
Of tears and smiles,
And just a spoon full of crazy.
Together we are one,
A helping hand in the dark,
A smiling face in a confusing world,
Loving arms always there.
These amazing people,
yes, are strange and crazy,
But what good is a family,
Without some oddities?
I love them all,
My OFA friends,
For they are more than that,
They have become my family.
Here I'll stayI'm over here,
And you're over there,
We're pretty much as far,
As can be for two hearts.
So why do I,
My heart grows weaker,
As the time passes.
What happened to forever?
What happened to together?
What happened to us,
While I was sleeping?
I'm still here,
But you've gone away.
So until next time,
Here I'll stay.
Poem Challenge 20What will come next?
"The world is ending" they said.
But I just don't see it,
The stars rain across the sky, and
All is well.
Poem Challenge 18The world was a better place,
When seen though children's eyes,
When the days were full of innocence and play,
When the worst fight would result to being chased with
Poem Challenge 16What will the future become?
Without you here to protect and guide me,
Will I become lost and broken?
Please fly back to me, to us.
We need you here.
Poem Challenge 14They bind you to the earth,
Though they cannot see,
Your presence they feel,
Left with a broken heart,
How'd it happen?
Poem Challenge 12Only distance can bring you peace.
That is what the letter read,
But that is not true,
Distance brings torture and pain,
Please, don't leave.
Oblivion Rests HereOblivion Rests Here
i have gathered my congregation,
and today you witness my church.
we are spirits, wandering ghosts,
souls holding hands
falling, spreading like rain
racing down windowpanes.
we are a mosaic of loose threads
falling from old scarves,
shrapnel that fell from fireworks,
leaves scattered across mud grain,
and ashes forgotten in wildfires.
but the forgotten souls sew love together,
wrapping whispers and skin
around each other like tornadoes.
and we rain down our message
like the King himself has touched down.
strands of hair, empty fingers, fluttering arms
all find themselves filled with warmth
in free rein, the sky embracing our veins
as we hold space
with c(h)ords of culminating ardor,
vocal cords strumming chants of freedom.
we sing louder than any choir
and hold each other tighter
than any thread count could.
tactile, textile, tensile
strength, we expose entities
with tractile virtue,
healing the exiled.
send Muhammad, Yahweh, Al
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
The Cracks Of RealityI traced the tips of my fingers over her porcelain
Felt the skin raise in bumps of sensation.
My mouth fit so well into the crook of her neck
And as her her eyes closed, her breathing shaky,
I found myself swallowing and my heart beating twice as fast.
As her hips rolled into me, as her nails clenched into the sheets,
She told me once more that she loved me, and I assured her I felt the same.
But then reality came, settling into the cracks of my fantasies.
And she slipped from my fingers.
And I was alone.
Soles (Forest Girl)Soles (Forest Girl)
i didn’t believe in carving initials into trees.
i always told you that was corny to me.
i told you i was a city boy,
comfortable in car drafts
and gleaming lights
that dilute natural shine.
to the sight of airplanes,
police cars and helicopters
than anything else.
but you dreamed of wings
so much bigger than aspect ratio,
so much wider.
you were higher.
so that day you took me there,
i knew i was out of my element.
your forest stories teased me;
sitting on the edge of your shoe soles.
and that riverbank that you tiptoed on.
little smirk always flashing your white pearls
when you were whisking through this place.
holding my hand in a tight grip
as you gave me a tour of your hidden burrow.
i had never been so in--
and out of place before.
the atmosphere was brisk
glancing the hairs on my neck,
goosebumps rising on my skin
as i swore feathers fell from your shoulders.
purple streaks nuzzle orange bands
that hold together golden twines
homesick for childhoodshe was a carefree little girl
with smiles hidden deep down
in her pockets, and she'd only
give them out to the most deserving.
when the quarter hour of her life
struck, however, things changed.
her world was painted black
on accident, millions of shades
turned ashy due to a sickness
that breeds on those empty
spaces between words.
she was dropped into summer
covered in homemade scars,
and with summer, her innocence
was eaten away.
pinned to a bed
like prey, she watched herself
consumed into another
(this world is the 7 a.m. frost
left on winter windows.
and it scares me)
yahwehIn fifteen hours I will be strung, pelvis
to sternum, ready to be struck
stomach aching to sing -
There was once when I was whole,
full and stretched to breaking,
I have been a giant in my own skin &
I was not enough to be loved.
& now, finger to thumb, you
swallow my spine in your palms
play my bones,
play my bones,
play my bones //
I am rising to throb
& thud & thrum
of pulse and breath and music
of mantra spilt-spoken,
smeared sacred over wrists
written with sweat & sex,
Muscles tensed for every chord,
Herein is the hallelujah -
You alone, you alone, you,
Hollow my belly and carve me
until I am fluted, crying out
between your hands
I have been too much to love,
every wire & tendon pulled loose
, I have been too much
& now you are here
& you play my bones
until the giant in my skin
becomes a rhythm
until I finally feel
I am enough!
You move me,
spine swallowed and sequestered,
I become holy beneath you
I was too much to love:
The UniverseThen suddenly there was matter.
There was time, there was life.
From the unfathomable nothing sprung forth our universe.
Our earth was born,
she, an angry mass of volcanoes and storms.
And life, oh that miracle, rose from the non-space.
A single microorganism,
whose name we will never know,
began turning the Evolutionary Wheel.
Earth had many inhabitants.
But here and now, she houses us.
Homo sapiens, her most gifted child.
We have made her surface angry as the beginning.
Machines of war replace the storm,
death flourishes in the garden of life.
In a hundred-thousand years our plights will matter not.
If the Homo sapiens lives still, he will be alien.
His old achievements as pathetic as the discovery of fire.
Even he will eventually cease to exist.
Several million years will rob him of his humanity,
whether through death or the persistence of the Wheel.
Billions of years will pass then.
Andromeda will embrace the Milky Way,
their fervent dance sending shockwaves through their solar sys
the days spent on the front stepsevery time you rip the lid off
the shell of styrofoam
questions your motives.
every secret you whisper into her naphthalene
stays there. it dies a little
as protein is scrambled. home is not a place.
her curve is ejected
as unidentified. it is bile
rolling back, the sheet of ebbing tide.
you always speak of horses
armoured, whisky clattering on their breath,
kingdoms burning and knights
riding off into the valley of deep sleep
you always speak of ships
leaving, pearly cord
as a farewell extending from coast
to hull forming an image of crying Mary
it shines in front of you
it calls out your name
Why do you judge?Why do you have the need to judge with your signs?
Do you even know why I am here?
Am I here just because I do not want the responsibility to be a mom?
Am I here because I am not in the right place in my life where I can take care of a child?
Or am I here because I was raped and he didn't use a condom?
Don't you know it is going to hurt me in the long run after I do this?
So how do you sit there with your sings and judge people?
Lost but found once againOnce upon a time,
There were twins, identical.
On the eve of their tenth birthday,
They were taken, separated.
Now the loss was great,
Not just one, but for both of them.
They lost a friend, a sister,
Their other half.
But on a sunny day,
Of their 30th birthday,
They see someone,
Who makes them think,
They are looking in a mirror.
They move closer towards each other,
In a daze, much like a dream,
The silence is broken, laughter,
So long apart,
So much to catch up on.
Their other half, found.
The BeginningHe told them, of course. He told those idiots everything, the whole damn story, including the blunder he'd made, and its consequences. Looking back on it later, he realized he had probably been in shock the whole time. It made sense, anyone would have been.
Soph was about twenty years old, and he'd been that way for a couple of years already, ever since the Hoarde had started attacking humanity from the past. Every day that passed, they ate at another day in the past. It sickened him. Those creatures had absolutely no regard for proper time and causality protocols.
It didn't seem to affect anyone else that way, though.
The Hoarde was the result of a human creation, of course, like everything bad in the world, though no one else knew about them. Then again, no one else had undiluted access to the power of creation. Even he didn't know much about the Hoarde, only that they appeared through some tear in The Fabric of The World and started killing people off. They appeared at some point in
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