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 Jan 2014 Sari Sups
Jack
Draining my tears on a mountain of guilt
I built with the fears that held I my heart
Riding this horse now as pale as a ghost
with a sword dulled and stained
Waving in the wind
Falling to my knees

Breaking the sunlight, fracturing dreams
Pleading in voices now deaf to her ears
Drinking the kool aid, the glass was half full
Now I sit empty this nightmare alone
Begging her forgiveness
Ripping apart at the seams

Send me for I deserve nothing less
The white knighted system is nothing but me
Defending her honor with all I can give
Blind the decisions I thought she did need
As I humbly and sincerely
Return that final breath...hoping she accepts
 Jan 2014 Sari Sups
Nat Lipstadt
Sparkling, Still or Tap?

Water. A profound subject. Of which, we are all expert. Therefore, I permit myself to write upon it. Water. When I offer you Sparkling, Still or Tap, think carefully for the path to happiness is confusing, you can be mislaid, strayed, betrayed if you imbibe the wrong path.

The definition of each is not my responsibility. Like poetry,
drink what you will from each, but drink you must, pas de choix (which is sparkling for no choice).

Getting drunk on the wrong water is very bad. You have washed your system out, after flooding it. Give an engine the incorrect quality of oil, and it will grind itself willing, having been tricked, into emoting itself into gear lock suicide.

Now go back to the first line, and star(t) over, because you are no longer silly but afraid, and that is the proper way to be when first cog-nizant that this is an earnest subject and you are a fool.

So I ask, not again but for the first time,

Sparkling, Still or Tap?
You say. You are. Poor. Tap is the only option.
Save the environment from plastique explosives.
Clear as colorless water (another sujet, for another self important foolishness) you lie.  Is Sparkling and Still not found naturally, while Tap is unnatural-now water transmogrified by rust pipes, fluorescent fluorides, that when drunken, tap you out and for which, You pay heavily when the water bill comes?

What am I?
Your cheek!  
As a ******- passenger-reader-human unsurpassed. So typical.
My credentials?
I am human-reader-passenger-****** so ***** your impudence!

I am still, but underneath,
I am effervesceing, like the band,
whose goth I am too,
but don't be an idiot, for
all we know,
is tapped into us and out of us
from birth ~
until death/


Was there water in your mother 's body when she breast fed you, was there water in your formula? Was it organic (idiot), from a crystal spring from polluted China,
and isn't it tool ate (auto correct for too late) now anyway?

So I rescind the question,
for we are provisioned but poisoned long before we have adult cash or credit card bills to answer properly this waiter's question,

Sparkling, Still or Tap?
(Nonetheless, if you have progressed to this sad conclusion,
as I wait upon you and,)

Your Reply,

Water is the clear space that surrounds the letters and words
We write, thus all words float to the surface on your unique percentage of body of water, that oils the brain.


Ergo, Ip So Facto,
I, the waiter *** writer,
already know.

Now start from the top,
Again, yes,
And answer me,

Sparkling, Still or Tap?
Awoke at 8:30am Jan. 25th the year 2014 (which is so far the annum of my birth, that I feel like a Civil War Veteran, feted),
from a drug induced sleep. Bilal Kaci wrote something which inspired this out-of-the-0rdinary stream from me and I serve it to you uncolored, unedited, and intended to make you ponder, if,  and since we are mostly water, as is the Earth then what are you,
Sparkling, Still or Tap?
 Jan 2014 Sari Sups
gd
Crimson.
 Jan 2014 Sari Sups
gd
I find some sort of satisfaction
getting under your skin, taking a trip
along the train tracks of your blood vessels
just to see how much you can take before you snap.

Maybe I'll look for some gold while I'm there,
since everything gold does not glitter,
I'm sure your shadowed carcass
will do me some justice.

I'll kick the soils of your tissues,
possibly dig holes in your pores
to find a nerve you
never cared to show me.

I'll paint mosaics and tapestries
on the pasty walls of your bones,
then smash my creations into pieces
to find the secrets stored in your marrow.

I will scratch at the layers
to remember where I'd already made my mark
and run through your bloodstream
to find my way around.

Then, I will bathe in the fluid,
changing its colour from red to
crimson, in hopes you'll
waste your blood on some actual effort.

I'll make music out of your ribs,
punching them with a flux of force,
trying to find the right octaves in creating a scale,
or maybe an étude.

I'll play them over and over
until they get tired of the noise;
get tired of being used for pleasure
in favour of my own ears.

Then maybe, just maybe,
I'll finally reach your heart

and I'll jump on it like a trampoline,
roll down its ***** as if it were a hill,
switch its ventricles and slide down its arteries
aiming for some sort of reaction,

just so I know a heart so bitter might just actually work.

- g.d.
The amount of pleasure I had in writing this surprised even me. Like a weight lifted off my shoulders, leaving me with a smile.
the floorboards would creak with love
or maybe just lust
wood does not know the difference
 Jan 2014 Sari Sups
Diana
Kaci
 Jan 2014 Sari Sups
Diana
Hey there fighter
Are you ok?
You’ve been knocked down
More times than I can say

Sometimes by others who don’t seem to care
Sometimes they care but their words are unfair
Sometimes the hate comes from your mind
Other times your blood is the one who’s unkind

It amazes us that you can’t see
How beautiful you really are
Your beauty isn’t just skin deep
It goes deeper than your soul, by far

Art flows from your fingertips
Imagination comes to life
Your mind shown in little clips
A pencil is you knife

As you move with gracefulness
There’s emotion in every move
Every jump and kick and twirl
Talent is there an proved

With music pouring in your ears
You seem to lose all your fears
We all know music numbs the pain
And it stops your pretty tears

You’ll never know just how loved
You are by every one of us
But we will try to let you know
You know, just because

One look at you and and they can’t tell
What this small-town girl is hiding
Secrets both good and bad
A wonderful girl just fighting
 Jan 2014 Sari Sups
Infamous one
Woke up rested ready to do my thing
Excited this week is over
Like the idea of back to back days off
Thinking of movies to buy for my collection
Minding my business doing what makes me happy
Im glad to be outta the gunk
Not living in denial being with someone who deserve me
I want the best and to be one of the best
Taking care of myself not giving up on myself because some insecure girl didnt want
Its her losss not looking back
One day be with the right girl
someone who appreciates me
Be patient and stop looking
My mind is clear focused on writing
Getting into my workout
These may not be serious to others but everything to me
Im debating on a jog while i write
Plus I work in a few
 Jan 2014 Sari Sups
Amber Blank
She moves in the night spinning away
The reason for her being, her purpose in this world
Easy for her, able to work without a worry
This simple spinning begins to form a harmony
A song of beauty and joy
For her task reveals the miracle of one small creature

A painting, no two ever alike
A masterpiece usually never seen, never admired
Only in existence for one night then blown away
by the morning mist
Extraordinary the life of this small spider
And the wonder that she brings
Decorating the world, working for one thing

Watching her spin leaves me at awe
Wondering how such beauty can go to waste
Wondering why we can't see the simple miracles all around
Instead the human race is drowning in our own reflection, our own sound.
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