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 Jul 2014 Mr Xelle
Taylor Pyle
You're lips, like sandpaper now that I think about it, but twice the man he'll be.
A lighter, I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to put it to my lips and burn every inch of your kiss off, but
I don't.
I simply rub my eyes hard enough to blur the image of you driving because it was always my favorite place to be.
In the passenger seat, I'm not the driver. Not in control.
My pillow
My shirt
My hair
My hands
My lips
Smell like you,
A Band-Aid drenched in lonely.
I'm cold, like snow, but, just as beautiful.
And you're black, like coal, but, will always be beautiful.
#beautiful
 Jul 2014 Mr Xelle
Cristina
I got the feeling that
my all life revolves, without my attention
somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow.
the promise of having all forever
and get a full use of it snaps me out of numbness
and I finally can feel *today.
Is it just I who muses late?
Into the veil of the night?
The laconicism is crisp of darkness
Black and cold, menace foretold?

Am I the only one
In the whole of humanity?
Who cannot cease to wonder of
The thoughts of worthlessness

That my every trivial thought
Is a waste of lives that fought
To come into the world
To breathe and dance and rot,

In the deathly tempo of time
Reminder of lives gone by
In philosophical demise
My trouble helps not anything...

Still I lie here, heaving through,
I cannot finish this song for you.
That would be misleading, to falsify
That my life showed an inkling of purpose—

*Of anymore than just a cry.
I'd always like to think that Your skin
is studded with a billion diamonds
for its lustrous clarity and sheer fortitude.
Your teeth to me are pearls precisely sculpted,
and Your every smile is a radiant beam of sunshine.
Your hair is a fathomless ocean
with mysteries hidden within its tangles;
my hands sail through Your smooth locks.
The creases of Your palms
are as deep as canyons
laden with abundant streams of blessings beneath.
Your voice is music:
as piercing as an orchestra of thunders,
yet also as gentle as a raindrop
sliding down a blade of grass.
And in Your eyes I see the universe.
I look closely and see
that those twinkles are actually
supernovas exploding and galaxies colliding.
And like the universe,
Your eyes engulf the entirety of my being.

You are Beauty.
You are Glory.
You are.
 Jul 2014 Mr Xelle
SG Holter
Room
 Jul 2014 Mr Xelle
SG Holter
Give her more and more space
To be her own woman.

Give her room to grow.
Give her room.  

Independence is as solid a
Foundation to build a life upon

As any. Just make sure she sees
Your intention as is.

Dependence will drive her to think
You stopped caring.

Dependence will fool her into
Seeing it as birth. Of an ending.  

Dependence is no walls; no roof,
No floor.

Give her room to grow.
Give her *room.
 Jun 2014 Mr Xelle
Mike Hauser
Could you...

Find humor
when told of the tumor

Smile
when the answer is cancer

Laugh
at the heart attack

Kick back
in the face of death

Yawn
when your not given that long

Whistle a tune
when they tell you it's June

Have no remorse
as the disease runs its course

Bow your head
when there's nothing left

Could you?
Hopefully this poem is not to morbid. Death is just something we all face and I sometimes wonder at how I'll be taken out and how strong I'll be when that time comes. Being a Christian I have the assurance of a better tomorrow but being a fallen man there's always that question...
 Jun 2014 Mr Xelle
Theia Gwen
Secrets spill from your lips
In hiccuped slurry speech
That night you learned the most important lessons
Teachers never teach

You're on the fence
But you always tumble in an empty bottle
Trapped on all four sides
Looking up at the light, legs weak and wobbly

And those lines you stood by
Those boundaries began to blur
All that you believed in
Every bridge you charred and burned

Did you find the answers
Laced within those pills?
This self medication will make you numb
To what you must rebuild
Not personal at all. I just decided my main character in this story I'm writing is going to get drunk at a party and it's gonna be messy. Another thing, I won't be writing much next month as I am doing Camp NanoWriMo. Hopefully I'll make it. :) And this poem is based on the story I'll be working on, actually. Not my best, I know.
I've been called a nihilist.
And I've been called cynical,
and from the outside looking in,
my problems may seem trivial.

But inside the storm is raging,
emotions are flaring.
Maybe I'm overboard.

Waters are churning,
tossing and turning.
I'm overboard.

So the next time you cast your stones,
forgetting about introspection,
just know that happiness isn't simply defined
except by our own perceptions.
A quick little thingy that came to mind and wrote down.
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