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B Dec 2017
Tuesday, December 5, 2017

i am trying to write about you,
but i am not angry or sad or grieving or missing you,
you’re stuck in me so far down my mind space
my words flow out emanating the essence of you,
hands pulsing because i can feel your grip,     around my throat
Squeezing the oozing me out of me

have you ever seen a person without a person inside?
A hollow, magnificent redwood
not sure if he is still alive, how is she still standing?
we have asked these questions.

my brain can’t wrap around anyone else’s,
and i marked it on my sleeve, right before the first time
we left off
because i knew i needed to know how to get you out,
but i don’t want to

because feeling you is home,
even when your thinking and saying and not-feeling and not-saying
brands the edges of my chest,
hot iron burning flesh,
we can all smell it,
but it’s fine.
Harry Roberts Nov 2017
I'm not me
I swear it see
Since a teen
I seen a part
Of me that's mean.

Apart of me that's been
Apart of me that knows
Hidden till it shows
Though it hardly
Ever blows.

It's older
Colder
More daring
And bolder.
It's apart as
Much as it is seperare.

It stole my age
Cause older I feel
In turn
And cold how the fire
In me burns.
But for breath it yearns
At ends with me.

Mostly I'd like to
Lay in the Sea
And be free.
But my demon
Makes me live
And evade the currents
Caught in me.

My demon makes
Me me, we lack
Dichotomy.
I'm one with
What opposes me,
In an convenient
Lobotomy.
Daniel Magner Oct 2017
Things aren't so bad
when you're surrounded by dogs,
when the fog clears, beaten back
by sun-infused forearms,
shut off internal alarms.
Fresh breath from the wind swept set,
the serene scene aloes my singed ends.
In my grayed head
I feel a little flung off the handle,
like I went from cliff tops
to canyons, laying in shambles,
to resting at sea level.
Found in an old note book, undated

Daniel Magner 2017
Nica Monet Sep 2017
Wish i could find the words without saying another bad word
to explain all the voices that my soul and brain have heard
some are a lie that caused me to cry
dealing with my problems, oh i sigh.
Built my walls too high, for no one can enter
that even i can’t reach in and fly in my main center
dealing with my demons, either if i am awake or dreamin’
i shouldn’t have believe them for they were very deceivin’
people think i’m flying through my life without feeling dying
they were all wrong for i have been trying

i see mirror here, mirror there, which one can i look at and stare
they’ve been my enemy lately, that i can’t love myself completely
i look at her, and it’s such a blur
i know it’s just a reflection but my mind sees all imperfection. compliments of perfection doesn’t help me find my direction.

in my eyes i see my true complexion
but i choose to believe my beauty is base on perception.
i still have to learn that i am worth
every living cell on this earth
that outside appearance doesn’t matter
but what’s inside is so much better.
nov. 29, 2016; something i wrote last year:) and i would like to share
Glenn Currier Aug 2017
[Ambiance: the atmosphere of an environment; a surrounding influence]

The smoke drifts over the audience,
the piano, the throaty singer and the sax
permeate the room with a jazzy ambiance.
My nerves vanish in the vibe, and I relax.

I enter the parlor to a flower-scent rush
there’s solemn gloom in the room for the viewing
I hear sniffles and mourners speak in a hush,
the ambiance here shaded with blueing.

The senses soak up the atmosphere.
Smells, sounds, touches, and sights
on the outside penetrate like a spear
take us down or ****** us to the heights.

Every day every inch of the way
is a new journey.  I can choose my stance,
embrace the unexpected and pray
for openness and grace in my internal ambiance.

“Internal Ambiance,” Copyright © 2017 by Glenn Currier
Rowan Darcy Jul 2017
In a rusty white van,
We meet with a dope man,
He climbs up in the back,
Says hand over the stack,
Then he breaks us off fat,
Now take a hit of that,
So we load up the stem,
Melt the sweet smoking chem,
Lips teeth and tongue go numb,
**** why am I so dumb,
But my heart starts to race,
My thoughts pick up the pace,
Feel the uplifting thrill,
As words begin to spill,
I could do this forever,
Be light as a feather,
And just forget it all,
I'll be ten miles tall,
I just need a bit more,
All I want is some more,
I just can't get enough,
'Cause the comedown is rough,
The thing I just can't face,
So instead I will chase,
Till the crack turns to ash,
And I cry as I crash.
Colm Jul 2017
Like a can
I desire to open myself up
So that someone may taste
And partake in the difference
But none can see
No none can see
At least I believe
In the difference in me
Can Opener
Jason Stevenson Mar 2016
The being is pure;
The being is light,
yet we are dark
and sometimes lose sight.
We must be aware.
We must be vigilant of ourselves
and our present state.
Life won't always be pleasant
nor rewarding,
be we must maintain self-awareness.

Things will be heard
and that will test you.
Be strong,
be aware that the urge to react will be present.
However, strength isn't fighting the evil;
strength is being patient with it.
Choose not to let it in;
choose not to let it force you to act.
One must try to be patient
and maintain a peaceful mentality.

Only speak kind words
or
words that are neutral if words must be spoken.
Never let the evil exit your mouth,
for it will cause unwanted consequences.

See the situation for what it really is,
not for what it appears to be.
Evil is easier to see than the true situation
that is underneath it all.
Again,
remain vigilant,
keep your eyes open,
but keep your ears closed.
Speak to express,
also to reveal,
but never to hurt,
nor to swear.
Colm Mar 2017
When I work I work
What I say I say
What I do I do
And unlike you
When I must work
I work ahead at what I said I would do
Truth... Or so I like to think
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