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 Apr 2013 bambi
Hilda Doolittle
Leda
 Apr 2013 bambi
Hilda Doolittle
Where the slow river
meets the tide,
a red swan lifts red wings
and darker beak,
and underneath the purple down
of his soft breast
uncurls his coral feet.

Through the deep purple
of the dying heat
of sun and mist,
the level ray of sun-beam
has caressed
the lily with dark breast,
and flecked with richer gold
its golden crest.

Where the slow lifting
of the tide,
floats into the river
and slowly drifts
among the reeds,
and lifts the yellow flags,
he floats
where tide and river meet.

Ah kingly kiss --
no more regret
nor old deep memories
to mar the bliss;
where the low sedge is thick,
the gold day-lily
outspreads and rests
beneath soft fluttering
of red swan wings
and the warm quivering
of the red swan's breast.
...Once
we had a church where the
candles burned and lit
the darkest areas of doubts
It was a refuge in the time of
the howling dogs
and scavengers prowling in the
shadows of sleepless nights
It was
almost perfect
until the truth was ****** and
burned on the sacred stake along
with the screams of the believers
Hope... Hope quickly
turned into something else and we
were consumed by
divine alibis to
keep the robes white
And we
tied Him with
strings and chains and
drowned Him before
He
could even walk on
water...
Mek
03.12.13
 Apr 2013 bambi
Lucky Queue
I'm sitting here
Reading these words you wrote for me
It wasn't really that long ago
But it seems like ages
And now I'm thinking about you and me
I'm not the same person you wrote to
I don't feel the same either
And what about you?
You said 'I love you'
Even wrote this poem to say it
But now we're a bit estranged
I know I can get on without you
And even though it hurts, I'm fine
So what about you?
What are you feeling now?
What are you thinking?
And I have to wonder
Are you ever curious about me?
4.2.13
 Apr 2013 bambi
Nicole
A small child
Only 6 or so,
Runs inside from a long day's play.
So young and full of energy.
Shouldn't have a care in the world,
Except for the specks of mud on the floor,
Left by his own foot.
His father, a large and logical man,
Raised the boy right;
Manners and all in tact.
Yet when he walks into the kitchen,
While the boy is at the kitchen sink, washing his little hands,
He sees the mud.
And the boy sees him,
Smiles up at him with his missing-tooth smile,
But the dad doesn't see;
He only sees mud.
He storms over in two strides,
Grabs the boy by the collar and drags him to the spot on the floor.
The boys heart is racing,
A mile a minute.
Never seen his father so terrifying,
So horrifying;
Until a moment later.
As his grip released him, he fell to the floor.
He wasn't hurt then,
But he would be,
As his father's fists raised and fell upon his small body.
Impossible not to feel the bruises already beginning to form below his immature skin.
"Stop it! Why would you do that?" My mind screams at the man not worthy of being even called a father,
and for the boy as he crawls away into the next room and collapses at the foot of the stairs in tears.
"How could you do that to him?! He doesn't understand! He's just a little kid! He doesn't understand.."
My heart and mind scream together,
lined with hatred, through sobs of tears.
And then I see his future:
Self hatred.
Yeah he'll go far in school, he's a smart kid, but his emotional damage is irreversible.
Quiet because he forgot how to talk,
Never smiling because he knows what people are capable of.
He sees the world in a negative light, but it's his reality.
No trust, no love,
Just alone with his thoughts.
And that's when he's finally safe.
This is what happened when I took a TAT test, a psychology test where you make up a whole story for an ambiguous picture. This is what my mind did with the picture and it's disturbing but my reactions were the same as I've written in here. It's a terrible tragedy, but it happens every day to someone. R.I.P. to the lives lost to these terrible people. Even to the ones who survived but live with the consequences. I can relate. And I'm sorry if this was a little much for some people. But it really is the sad, terrible truth for some unlucky individuals.
 Apr 2013 bambi
Lyra Brown
sometimes i see the little green light
beside your name on
facebook chat
and i stare at it for a while, hoping a little
"hey! how are you?" might pop up
wondering how long i will have to wait
for you to notice me.
but then i feel pathetic because it's like
the majority of my life has been spent on
waiting
for people to notice me
and while half of me wants to be noticed,
the other half strongly wishes to remain
an anonymous quote you happened to
stumble upon in an abandoned library, or
a figment of your imagination
where every aspect of
myself
has been starved from each of your
senses
where you are left alone to wonder
if i ever actually existed
at all.
 Mar 2013 bambi
Devin Weaver
Repeating nightmares
Just to be sure—
Certain I’m this insecure
Depleting patience
Of conscious dead
From whom nature’s love has bled

The leaders of men
Have come to pray
But no gift can greed allay
Yes, no gift at all
From iron gods
Can assuage a soulless fraud

I call thee, War Horse
The time is nigh
Mars is mirrored in our eyes
And our empty hearts
Will beat anew
With blood vengeance shall accrue

Our humanity—
All our prowess
I bend unto your malice

Ego, madness, hubris, anger
Darkness, violence, loathing, doom
Fury, abhorrence, wrath, danger
Desire, frenzy, hatred, black bloom
 Mar 2013 bambi
Devin Weaver
Oh, mockingbird
That you could sing your own song
 Mar 2013 bambi
Kelly Michelle
Fault is a stealy sheild..
Blame, a fool's way to resist..
Misery affords some company..
Yet then Suffering will only persist..

A rebellion requires no heros..
No villians, no victims, nor saints..
Now how would this picture be painted..
If Healing and Mercy were paints?

The intense and darker shades..
Blended with muted, softer lights..
The poetry in each colors' movement..
Would strike us all with such sight..

We would not focus on parts..
Wonder what is"good" or what's "bad"..
We would breathe in the splendor..
The artistry of soul survial we now have..

Released from harsh judgement..
Free of resentments and old pain..
And finally those who have harmed us..
Forgiven, allowing inner peace to reign..
 Mar 2013 bambi
Brandon Webb
It's only 11:30 when I plug it in and go bed,
Screaming at myself, tears in my eyes
It had only been five days
and I didn't love her Monday,
I grew into it
and I thought she had too,
until those three words came from her tongue-


"I have someone"

my world shouldn't have shattered
I shouldn't have stayed up all night
screaming at myself and writhing in pain,
clutching my aching stomach.
I should have rolled over and gone to sleep
unsurprised.

I should be used to it
Used to spending nights like this
Used to being dissapointed
To having to turn the thermostat up to 75°
so I'm not cold at night.
To having to get on facebook and talk
so I don't fall asleep completely lonely.
To having to write so I can say
"I love you"
at the end of a poem
just to get those words out of my system.
 Mar 2013 bambi
Michael P Smith
What a breath of fresh air
Seeing you once again
Your company is always welcome
So good to befriend you love
I sure can use your comfort
Your elegant, powerhouse vibe
Quenches my lonely soul
I am in need of you
Its been such a long time
Since our dear minds floated
In a milieu of ignited joy
I have combed the vicinity
From the periphery of the night
Til the nascency of the sun
Close by and far about,
To cross your seraphic path
Once again, here we are...
So come take a walk with me
Let us prance along the lake
Dash through spring's leaves
Exalting each other's presence
Let us dance in airborne circles
Together, as inseparable canaries
My thoughts of you
With that celestial killer smile
Your dazzling eyes of pensiveness
That touch of sweet caress
Is strongly needed in my life
Spending time with you
Is truly like no other
My adulation for you
Is passionately unspoken
This pash I have for you
Has kindled as we bonded
There is honestly no way
I'm letting you go
No more, never again
So take my hand
Slowly spin with me
Into love's unknown
Together forever.


©Michael P. Smith
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