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 Nov 2012 Emma
Daniel Magner
Here I am again watching swirls in my cup o' noodles
figuring out ways to dip and skip through some loop holes
Cause I'm tired of jumping though hoops
to prove to people what I am or am not willing
to do
Roommate's in the kitchen making fish minus the bone
and I'm ******, wasting time, putzing on my phone
waiting to hear from someone
anyone to get me out of this funk
it's been awhile but I know this place
the first hint of it was in the twice packed bowl that stunk
of the first step to giving up
To sleeping in past important positions of clock hands
like employers will understand, yeah right
feeling like I'm the man
but I'm the man of nothing
but an empty can and that
lousy mouse that clicks
flicks its way through millions of pics
of girls and tattoos and more girls
It's been awhile now, quite long enough
cause I just took that first step back to
giving....well you know.....up
© Daniel Magner 2012
 Nov 2012 Emma
PoetWhoKnowIt
I was concerned
When friends told me
'Love is blind'

Well, why was I
One to worry?
For what they said in church

They taught to me
'God is love'
I paid attention in math

See, if God is love
and love is blind
then God is blind

Now it makes sense
For so much to pass
Why good don't last

And to why we're flawed
It's clear as glass
For God blinds us all
 Nov 2012 Emma
Rainbow
Today I woke in the  d e p t h s  of the ocean.
I opened my eyes.
It was like they were closed.
Thick, seeping, cold, black  d a r k n e s s  ,
   forcibly embracing me from behind
I opened my mouth to scream.
It was like my vocal chords had been  c u t  .
Bubbles of air popped desperately out of my mouth
   empty, useless, oxygen
I moved my arms.
They were heavy as pale sacks filled with thousands of metal beads,
    sludging around in the  a b y s s  
I listened.
The silence was so loud it screamed my thoughts into a head-shaped megaphone.
I felt my heart pound out every painful  b e a t
I was shrinking with the pressure,
    pressing down on me like a wine-press on all sides,
    turning my skin into  t e a r s
Emotions picked at my bones like little silver scavenger fish,
    blind to truth and light
I fell to my knees.
Everything was slow,
    slowing and slowing
    the more I wanted it to go
    faster and faster
Sediment of history, ashes, feces,  d e a t h  ,
   crumpled at my knees
I cried.
Too bad the tears are invisible,
    blending into the salty atmosphere
    with no recognition to be found
A shadowy  b l a c k  form rested on the floor in front of me.
I stared at it,
   a sense of dreadful familiarity
The  c a r c a s s  of something once beautiful and living,
   rotting
   decomposing
   fading
   fed on by the bottomest of the bottomest creatures of the ocean

E m p t y . Carcass.

It's the shadow of the future of my soul,
  dying at the  b o t t o m  of the ocean,
  what I can become down here while refusing to ackowledge truth and love
I breathed.
And oxygen rushed in my nose,
   fell down my throat
   embraced my lungs
   soaked into my muscles
   rubbed my heart
Was I  f r e e  ?
Suddenly I realized what I should've been hating all along,
   the cold
   the darkness
   the weight
   the chosen death of my soul
But I had a choice...I  s w a m
Up and up, moving my arms in new, synchronized dance,
   reaching for the brightest light
   for my own water sunrise
And as the warmth stroked my face,
   the light burned my eyes,
   my fingertips  b r o k e  the surface
I took my first life breath.
And I saw your face.
 Nov 2012 Emma
brooke
Dawn.
 Nov 2012 Emma
brooke
My grandmother wakes
before the sun and talks
to God, I wonder if he is
listening and answering
(c) Brooke Otto
 Nov 2012 Emma
brooke
Radioactive.
 Nov 2012 Emma
brooke
Does your own breath
sound like the wind on
the sea, low blue static

shhh
(c) Brooke Otto
 Nov 2012 Emma
brooke
Effortless between 6 and 7--
lavender and magenta,
moves a bit like grass
sounds like orange juice
in the morning, the sun
says a lot of things about

you
(c) Brooke Otto
 Nov 2012 Emma
brooke
Newfangled
 Nov 2012 Emma
brooke
The best kind of art isn't stolen
there is nothing new under the
sun anyway, except for people
people will always be untrodden
in the simple way that they

exist
(c) Brooke Otto
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