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blushing prince Sep 2018
my spine was assembled clumsily and with an erratic precision of a hand that knows the premeditation of everything
the swarm came in the shape of an air conditioner
it's the characterizations of overgrown lawns and memory foam on the side of the curb
like going to the laundromat instead of church on Sunday
I've said this before, repetition lives inside the brain that continues to step over it's own feet
foot slowly inching towards my mouth
i could kiss you with my ankle if you would
the air conditioner buzzes all night like i did that night that i couldn't find the entrance in a place that i wanted to leave
take me home in a Chinese take-out box
i'll sit in the back of your fridge until you forget
i'll grow my own colony, mold malformation on the creases where the warmth should be
Sweaty container and you throw me out before Monday's pickup trash along with the expired mustard and mayonnaise
oh the missed opportunity, the dedication i could have gone to have given you a stomach ache that leaves you at three in the morning dry heaving your memories
that electric buzz stays until it's unwelcome and still it persists
so the bees have started to congregate, digress and drink the synthetic honeysuckle it spits
they take off, wings of woolly yellow into a breath that i consume by lungfuls
i don't know where they're going but that's okay because they keep coming back
and it's the permanence of something so flighty that calms the hum
A M Ryder Aug 2018
Sometimes our lives are made up of the same stories with the same beginnings and the same endings and things happen the same way almost every time.
Araoluwa Jacob Aug 2018
A clean black page with lines and a margin is the most encouraging thing you can see to help explore part of the world's knowledge. Giving you the freedom to express your words not through speaking , but through writing. Even though people won't understand how you feel, the paper will. it has no choice. It will submit to you. The paper will take it as an opportunity, "So many could have written on me, but you did." A great privilege to embody and share someone's pain. You brought to life with the words you wrote on it. Each single letter formulated into words that led to sentences and developed a meaning. a pencil, A paper And it's master. They will do great things to people. Add knowledge, or corrupt the mind. Its up to the master. However, those three will change lives.
There is a world that no one knows
Where life unnoticed grows and thrives
Where birth and death and all between
Are scrutinised, yet are unseen

Where innocence and purity
In white are welcomed, full of hope
Impinging slowly, edging in
Life’s colour forming character

Where independent yellow gloats
In fierce teen triumph ‘Look at me!”

With fun and laughter orange glows
And reaches high in happiness
Experience and independence
Rich lessons teach and edges darken

Their lives on show, rough judgement falls
And ‘I prefer the red’ is thrown
About and listened to and felt
And colours deepen, darkened hue

In wind and rain and sunshine showers
Red develops, life impinges
Bright happiness or blood-red wisdom
Growing older, growing wiser

Where petals turning in reveal
Quiet pom-pom introversion
While out-turned fingers stretch with glee
Prima donnas, dancing, twirling

Where purple self-awareness turns
Each pink and mauve and lilac from
The bloom of youth towards life’s wane
Yet far enough away, rebelling

Where days grow shorter, sliding past
Yet hands stretch out and cup each face
And noses breathe and fingers touch
And bees buzz past and voices rise
And babies cry and old men laugh
And yet unknown, unseen, life slows

Bright-eyed the purple-rinse brigade
With sparkle-induced energy
Remembering and reminiscing
Their days they fill with endless chatter

Late Autumn falls and nights draw near
White heads do droop and slip, like snow
Fine petals drift into the breeze
An echo whispering til Spring.
Autmn T Aug 2018
I am a feminist
Feeling fenced in
in a gender binary
fenced in a ****** binary
so people dismiss my Bi
No ally can stop that without listening
Listen with your ears and if you can't hear
listen with your eyes. Know that I don't need to prove my Bi
Yemen child brides, committing homicide
building graveyards inside of themselves
Acid attacks, police and blacks
**** is asked for
Jews are gassed more
Conversion therapy
People can't see through the Trans*parency
Gender roles wrapped up into us
Making us feel trapped making us adapt
A is not for Allys
A is for Ace or Aro
Thrown with a bow I miss the target
cast into the shadow
Lesbians are loved stripped down
but not in the gown
appreciated more with their mouths shut
and no ones mind open
They chose to be blind not see with their eyes
hear with your ears
hear the gunshot or the scream from the queer kid
who is bleeding, smiles were misleading
thought they were happy
Thats because we stigmatize mental illness
I feel the stillness of progress
My anxiety is as bad as the start
I've been told that l'm not being smart
but I know my voice is a work of art
We whitewash the shadow
using bleach to whiten skin
drinking bleach when that skin isn't light to begin
I am a feminist
My first spoken word I ever wrote for a school project
Isaac Aug 2018
poetry lives on.
the poet dies off.
put your heart into
each poem
no matter who
may scoff.
Written 12 August 2018
Dennise K Aug 2018
grab a pen and paper
now write at the top of the paper, "things I  want"
list all of the things you desire. Money aside, reality aside, what is it that you truly want.
next write " things I need"
and list the things that keep your heart beating. the things that make you get up every morning. your hopes and dreams, your ambition.

now compare.

are the things you need lining up with the things you want?
does what make you want to be better also want you want to be?
ask yourself, "is this how i want to live"
svdgrl Aug 2018
No updates, we live private lives.
You left this town and all that I gave you in a pile.
Haven't heard your voice in some time.
Probably muffled with your brandname smile.
Photographs pick perfect poses.
You seem to have everything you've meant to own.
You got a new home with a new girl,
and even a dog like you've always wanted.
But do you even touch your keys?
Ever exclusive, babe, do you still make music?
Why am I still writing poems about him?
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