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Spanish

¡Oh, tú que duermes tan hondo que no despiertas!
Milagrosas de vivas, milagrosas de muertas,
Y por muertas y vivas eternamente abiertas,

Alguna noche en duelo yo encuentro tus pupilas

  Bajo un trapo de sombra o una blonda de luna.
Bebo en ellas la Calma como en una laguna.
Por hondas, por calladas, por buenas, por tranquilas

  Un lecho o una tumba parece cada una.



              English


   O you who sleep so deep you cannot wake!
Every night in mourning I come upon your pupils,
Miraculous in life, miraculous in death,

And in life and death eternally open.

Beneath a remnant of shade or silk lace of moon,
I drink their calm as I would a lagoon.
For depth, for silence, for goodness, for peacefulness.

     Each one seeming a bed or a tomb.
 Sep 2012 Ella Gwen
TJ King
Parting the multi-coloured fragments of earthboundmist
was she;

shroud after shroud caressed her soft nameless face

before finally, trembling, she broke free.

Leaving me, bespeckled by the last free-floating globes of light

as she was taken behind the closed train door;

Alone amongst the travelers, wanderers, and the lost.

Blanketed in the glittering light of the morning, and set adream

amongst the weightless scent of petrichor.
 Sep 2012 Ella Gwen
James M Boyer
Her eyes are like my therapy
with a glint that calms my nerves
even if she doesn't know
this feelings not deserved.
I am a head case
with a basket full of bad habits
smokers cough & tar filled lungs
is just one amongst the average.
Too much **** & too much *****
consumed in self absorption
not even worth a single cent
and I've claimed it as extortion.
Yet her smile is a blessing
from my immoral being
swept up by her laughter
distracts internal screaming,
I bare the curses of a lesser man
but never say a word
because it's through her heart & soul
that I know that I'll be cured.
Written November 16, 2010- From Through Our Hands We Speak From The Heart
He arrived home
dead
with a still beating heart
He woke up
still asleep
though with sleepless eyes
the child is absent from
where this man now stands
though fragile still in his repressed memories
 Sep 2012 Ella Gwen
infinitetune
If you present hot
Bronzed and fruit filled
Perhaps things will not
Pounce so hardy.

Stand back
I have this butter knife!
So now you've left me
nothing but quiet bones.
You have pulled out
my unreal teeth.
You have taken off
my infallible clothes.
I **** the bitter
night. I **** all its
kisses; they bring
me no joy. You have
trimmed my unabashed
hair, my unyielding
nails.
I am quiet bones.
I find it kind of funny
that you told her how nice I was
(I use past tense; I am no longer decent)
And how different I was from the others
(I am no longer different from the others)
and she told you not to ruin me

I find it kind of funny
when you told me this story
I laughed like it was some kind of a joke

She knew all along
(Such a wise woman)
That I would get destroyed
(I am no longer different from the others)
I'm just like all the other stories of your past
I burn you with cigarettes
(You used to tell her how nice I was)
I'm demolished.

What a funny joke.
tomorrow i'll wake
and the dawn will shine unhindered
on the empty white space
on the cold tear-spotted sheet
beside me

— The End —