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 Mar 2014 M
EJ Aghassi
smiles
 Mar 2014 M
EJ Aghassi
it's probably the weather
and the
question of whether

or not I want to see you again

weathering on sanity
or what idea of it
I believe

rationale evaporated from my brain

but if this is the cost
of the smiles

energy expended
coming back again
sapping more than
I can give

then I will make those memories worth it
 Mar 2014 M
rachel
My Depression
 Mar 2014 M
rachel
Sometimes I like to press my palms against my chest,
And forced all the oxygen out.
I'm still not sure if it's because I don't want to live anymore,
Or because I feel that all my pain will attach itself to the air,
And someone else will breath in my depression.
 Mar 2014 M
Sia Jane
Lolita
 Mar 2014 M
Sia Jane
You only told me, at the tender age of three,
Just how beautiful this very life
Could be.
That as a young girl, a child let go,
I could run so freely, through
Fields of fruit trees, days of May
Owls howling, despite, such clear
Daylight.
Birds chirping, how they fight for
A place,
Among the cacophony of,
Sounds, dogs barking, cats purring,
A gentle breeze.
Spring is slowly, about to fall
Yellow daffodils, purple crocus,
Even a magnolia begins to find, flight.
The moles this garden so, loves
To hate, a little soft face, rising
From the ground, a cat
In sight, waiting for just one catch.
The days are longer, nights colder,
Stars protecting a moon that beams,
In such clear sight, a blackout in
The sky.
The sun sets, slowly and all at once,
The way I described how,
Depression felt, so slowly that
You don’t notice, and suddenly,
Like the shining sun, you are gone.
Squirrels play, Oak trees surround me,
as I ponder the age, and decades that
they have stood so firm, asking myself,
what secrets do they hold, who do they share
the tales of this Hamlet I call home, with.
Home, a place I could never,
Dismiss,
Without my heart, remaining
On the concrete slabs I walk,
Bare feet on grass, still carrying
Morning dew.
My soul a bird’s song, in love forever,
A practice of freedom, an entity oh
So rare, in a world so stripped,
Of the essentials of life.
Saving myself, from the roller coaster
Of life,
I am brought closer, to all the things,
That matter, as I continue to believe
We will be in love forever.
Clouds marry, then within a glance
Of an eye, fade, a puff of smoke,
Only blue skies, an orange tinted
Light.
Sins forgiven, seeking redemption,
****** sits,
In the dim sunshine, oh
Yes,
I know, we will be
In
Love forever.

© Sia Jane
"Wanderlust" by Sia Jane Lloyd available via all Amazon stores

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wanderlust-she-travels-her-mind/dp/1492952346/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid;=1392582925&sr;=8-1&keywords;=sia+jane+lloyd

Also visit:
www.facebook.com/Siajanewords
siajanewords.blogspot.co.uk
 Mar 2014 M
Wanderer
Only For You
 Mar 2014 M
Wanderer
I wake up with your smell braided through my hair
                            Saturating my senses from the night before

Starlight and moonshine lit rings of soft fire in our eyes

                            Falling asleep in your arms
                            World stops, fog settles in
                            No one here but our body heat
                            Syncopation at it's most natural speed
                            Cold fibers seek solace in lip kissed goose bumps

You push me deeper than ever before

                            Our hands parting but pried apart
                            Occupying the spaces between hello and goodbye
                            It is never that easy though, is it?

Straight lines curve when wrapped around your tongue

                           Making the most out of deep sighs and slow, easy smiles  
                           The subtle shifts in your geography have my mouth watering
                           Causing a wild flutter to awaken the dead ache
                           In flesh once thought to be silent

It beats only for you

                           Ink and I have been forged since birth
                           Soul seared and thirsty for it's satiny black quench
                           With it I paint you immortal
                           Dancing through veins and sacred neuron firing
                           you are held
                           Where I can always keep you safe
                           Where in memory you are eternal
 Mar 2014 M
Emma Katka
Untitled
 Mar 2014 M
Emma Katka
you're not a saint
but keep beating that dead animal like you are
bring it back to life
put those strings on the limbs
make it dance
dance for your world
that you're still so desperate to impress
dance for your pride
dance for your ego
dance for yourself
that's all we ever were doing
spinning in circles around your sensitivities
spinning in circles around what i was doing wrong
i'm hearing a ringing in my head
echoes of your tantrums
when you couldn't respond
only cross your arms
and fall into yourself
where you danced in your self pity
danced in your despair
i'm not the composer of your songs
you're singing to yourself baby
and you have been all along
 Mar 2014 M
AP Beckstead 2014
What is an American?

Is it decided by the timber of our voice,
the strength in our limbs,
the blood in our veins,
or the color of our skin?

Tell me,
for I do not understand,
unfold your thesis,
inundate my mind with statistics,
be it quantum blood measures,
origin or sociological constructs of the creature in question.

Tell me,
what it is to be an American?
This umbrella term,
I just do not understand,
is it to be a thief?
A country founded on stolen land,
and stolen labor,
sage bushed bills,
backed by gilded structures and systems of debate and seizure,
is being an American drowning in leisure?

What does this term mean?
I find myself confused,
it is difficult to quantify the qualitative,
and breath life into lifeless chiseled forms,
found in squares and plazas throughout,
a country split by hard wired ferocity,
quicksand laden dividing lines,
the vocal deciding what it is to be,
and what it isn't.

Careful lad,
there is such a thing as too much,
too much individuality,
so put up your hair,
put away the paint,
put away that sign,
sheath your weapon,
old boy,
this isn't your fight,
and besides,
what can you do with a toy?


I don't know what America is,
land of the free,
where is that?
I see only industry,
a dying morality,
drowned in ethics,
a protestant-core built on overt inequality.

What does it mean to be an American?
I can't tell you what it means to you,
only what it means to me,
and so I say dust off the document upon which this term was built,
and realize that the past is not what you should use,
just as anything else of import,
use judgement,
agency,
the ability to choose,
uphold the  freedom that suffocates in the back of your mind,
to the flame inside your chest,
to the weakness in your legs,
down against the sole of your shoes.

America is a country founded on rebellion,
a little man,
underdog all grown up,
and now he's the one throwing punches,
a story paralleled by Davidic tales,
and though he may not be perfect,
and is often reviled,
I love him still,
his rough edges,
for we are still part of the experiment,
ongoing,
the American dream.

Though the gates may be weighed down,
the hinges rusted,
a country of sojourners,
soon a country of minorities,
cultural pluralism,
though flawed,
I like it better this way,
a techni-colored mirage of what once was,
and if we must meet our end,
so be it,
guide me home,
for is it not true that all roads eventually wind home?
A.P. Beckstead (2014)
 Mar 2014 M
Cristina
I need...
 Mar 2014 M
Cristina
I need you to touch me
do it now.
I want your body, you want mine
remember you said
sweetheart, everything will be fine.

tips of your finger are silk
barely touch my cleavage
my entire body is so rich
rich of your small just sprinkle kisses.
I need you to touch me more
what are you waiting for?

your palm is burning, under my skin
looking in your eyes
I'm reading a long story of desire.
is all for me?

you smile to me, smile for me
when you do it
my thoughts become blurry.
please, stop whisper into my ear
I can't handle anymore
please
just, touch me!
 Mar 2014 M
Krusty Aranda
I wonder if
she was ever
meant to be
mine.
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