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Asonna Aug 2017
A sea of brown and green lay at my feet,
with subtle movement i can hear them clink.
Some are empty, some are unfinished.
But for right now it doesn't even matter.

Stained cheeks of watered ink,
Salt that's mixed with sadness.
A heart of pain, a lifetime's worth.
Filled with remorse and regret.

Embers burn your words of love,
it's right there in the fire.
with a broken trust, pages are torn,
like I never even mattered.

My fingers, cold, only at the tips
as I clutch the final letter.
turns out you were no good for me,
and I was no good for you.

the spaces where things used to be,
all silhouetted from dust.
this place that once belonged to us
is now home to me and my bottles.
Juniper Zed Jul 2017
Early it was on that humid summer morning
I awoke to complete silence and a dreadful forewarning
I knew it right then after a moment of thought
It was the eerie atmosphere which death always brought
My time was running out and I was no longer at ease
Now cancer had chosen me despite my prayers and pleas
No man will survive, I was no exception
And yet I was prompted by the doctor’s deception
There was no love left for me, I am done
My line is now ******, for I fathered no son
And now I will become dust and forgotten to history
My true purpose on Earth is forevermore a mystery.

I neglected my condition but nobody ever knew
My personal pain numbed while my disease grew
I needed to die and feel nothing for my body was weak
There was nobody to love, and I chose not to seek
I had lost my inspiration, and my mind became dull
I wanted to go and let my ugly face dry to a mere skull
My skin was on fire and I just hoped it would melt faster
Then maybe I could erase my life which had turned to a disaster
I sought no vengence and needed no instant savior
I am not an idiot who believes your pity isn’t a forced behavior
Where is their understanding, compassion, genuine concern
Everybody knows for their true loved ones they surely would burn
But not me, this I know sure
My true deadliest disease knows no cure.

I sat by the lake, thought of the past, and cried alone
I wrote on a rock my name, then into the water I threw that stone
I threw it so far and I yearned for my undeserved kiss
And like my Earthly legacy, my name sunk into the lake’s abyss
My existence obsolete and unknown with my name
My pain and misery will go down in history the same

And then she appeared

She sat by my side
She instantly cried
She knew of my fear
Yet she could not hear
She reached for my hand and held it tight
With her beautiful voice she told me to fight
And then my eyes dripped singular tears
And she wiped them away alongs with my fears
I knew she was deaf and could not understand
But I knew in that second that her I couldn’t withstand

I did not know her name, and I didn’t have one to give
But that didn’t matter because my old self no longer would live
It was love at first sight and my heart felt security
Though I was lost, I suddenly regained my purity
I accidently smiled and she knew it was true
I obviously blushed because she did too
She pressed me to her chest and hummed so sweetly
For the first time in forever I organized my thoughts neatly
I only thought of my newly found purpose in this universe
It was now evident that my cancer had become a curse

She followed me close and I began to worry
Her perpetually beautiful face began to go blurry
I wanted so much to tell her my affliction before late
I realized my demise would have no precise date
She brought me from sadness and I waited too long
Why has the Lord forbidden me to sing a deaf girl my song
And then the morning came where she kissed me awake
I was going to die that day, and I had to tell her for love’s sake
My cancer was strong, but my love was stronger
I needed to go then but she deserved one day longer
She expected a newer, repaired version of me
The look in her warm brown eyes was always my pleasure to see
And then while we stared in each others eye
At the very same lake that she saw me cry
The place our love burgeoned would terminate there
As my heartbeat faded away whilst we mutually stare
And then my last tear trickled down my cold cheek
I left the world as I came, crying and weak
And then she was there and deaf as she was
She was terribly distressed and watched in pause
And then she realized at that moment I was forever away
And so she knelt and knew it was my last day

She left me dead and never returned, all alone, dead, alone.
Zero Nine Jul 2017
Basically
I'm the
disease

your
poor heart
could not

pump,
process,
or purify

the
tasteless
something
in the water

waste drains
exit into your water

Put you in duress,
the deviant disaster,
the master depravity,
the agender **** toy,
smiling sodomite

offered only carnal
distress for your innocence,
trash for your
sacred naivete


(but I'm not wrong . am i // am i .)
grind grind grind grind grind
rust rust rust
Gabriel burnS Jul 2017
Distress calls are a Venus flytrap
Don’t come flying to the rescue
Or your wings will be
Its 4 o’clock snack
Can’t seem to shut its flap
Ever hungry for more
Always empty at the core
Traveler beware;
Heed not that mayday;
Move on and pay no care!
One has a degree in Physics,
the other in Computer Science
Both have Bipolar 1
struck now from Societies grasp
Valued less than paupers
so self fulfilling be.

"We are your future" they
whisper angrily under bated breath
as finance Cabal wonder kids in
******* mausoleums sneer and jeer
in their prisms of skill and bone.
One million pound bonus just for doing their job
whilst we remain alone, penniless poets.

There is no justice, change
or before you know it we'll
change it whilst you
sleep, recombine the singularity
tuned into our frequency,
change. Or you'll feel the snap
of your Reptile necks.
K Balachandran Apr 2017
A kite's distress call,
starved and thirsty,there she falls,
sun, calling shots.
at the end of the pier
no one is fishing

a couple from Jersey
leans out over the
rail looking down into
the brown swill
rolling under the
weathered boards

The wife remarked
“Belmar's water
is much nicer.”

on the Gulf’s edge
unhappy gulls convene,
plaintively gazing
over gray waves
ebbing at their feet

Brown Pelican crews
fly in long
ordered formations
incessantly circling
in widening rounds
seemingly reluctant to
plunge into the
endless depletion
of this aquatic
dead zone

I speak with a
Jefferson Parish employee
working a shovel
to regrade disturbed sand
boasting a consistency
of moist drying cement

“How did the Gulf oil spill
affect this place?” I ask

“It took evarding.” she said
With a slight Cajun accent,
“dig down a foot or two in da sand
you hit earl. It nevar goes away. Nevar.

“I live down bay side
near forty years.
Had’nt been in de water fer
twenty five.  The ******
******* took evarding.
They should go back
to Englund”

She went back to
tilling the sand.

Deepwater Horizon
yet festers a short
forty miles out to sea
is now covered by
an advancing storm
swelling in the Gulf

standing at the end
of the long pier
my hands  grasp the
sun bleached lumber
straining my eyes
peering into a
dark avalanche

the serenade
of bird songs
have been replaced
by the motorized drone
of tenders servicing
offshore rigs
sounding
a constant refrain
filling my ears
with a disquieting  
seaside symphony

the taste of
light sweet crude
dances on my tongue
the pungent sting
of disbursements
climbs into nostrils
rends my face
prickles my eyes

grandeur is a
conditional state
never permanent
forever temporary

Music Selection:
Cajun Music:
Hippy To-Yo

Grand Isle
2/20/17
jbm
Grand Isle, Cajun, Deepwater Horizon, ecological distress, Gulf of Mexico
Oona Feb 2017
You were six years old when your parents took you to the art museum
and you almost died. Fell down four flights of stairs,
yet stood up with nothing more than a scrape on your bicep.
Mom will call this day a miracle, the day her daughter escaped
almost certain death
. Sometimes, though, you wish you could have hit your head
a little harder; chomped down so ******* your tongue that part of it
could have fallen off (and maybe then you could be beautiful.)

The problem is, your mom tells her coworkers that it’s
God’s Gift of Life that you’re still here. Sometimes she squeezes
your hand so hard you’ll worry she’ll break your bones,
which are already so thin, just the way she likes them. (Because
a near-death experience does not justify something like
chubby fingers.) (Even to your mother, who held you in her arms
as you whimpered at the bottom of a staircase and kissed
your forehead as she told you it would be okay.)

Your friends tell you that you’re meant to be here, and they
love you, they really do, and your tongue tastes flat and boring
in your mouth as you clamor for an interesting story to tell, a tale
of survival that will make them miss you
even when they have you, and yet you find
nothing: nothing.
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