I was born on November 30th , I hear that makes me a Saggitarius.
I dunno what that means.
I  know how to swim, and I'm a sucker for a guy with a nice smile
And nice words.

I'm still learning how to whisper sweet nothings
I'm often loud at times when I should be quiet
I'm often quiet at times when I should be loud
I keep holding back or letting it all out at the wrong time.

I like sweet drinks... a lot.
I've been told that I give pretty bad hugs
People say that it feels like I'm trying to escape
Well I don't like letting people close.
Especially close enough to hear me breathe.

I have this odd fascination with things like time machines and technology,
I assume it's because I like to figure out how things work and fix them.
Am the same way with people, like to know what's coming before it does.
Love usually lasts a few moments,
That's also why I tend to fall in love with men
Who would never love me back
I know it sounds crazy, but it's actually much saner than it seems
And to be honest, I think it's safer that way
See relationships, they often remind me that I'm not afraid of letting go.
But I'm scared of what's gonna happen
The moment that my body hits the ground
I'm clumsy. I usually trip when am following my feelings.
I landed on my pride and it shattered like a mirror i check daily.
Now I can't even tell who's trying to give me a compliment
or just trying to get into my pants.

I've never been into martial arts but I have all these bruises,
I got from beating myself up over things I can't fix
I know it sounds weird but sometimes,
I wonder what the voices in my head say when am asleep.
I wonder what the doors would do if they found out
About all the things that I've done when they are closed.
I've got a trash can that's overflowing with really, really obnoxious mistakes
And a dump site in my closet with all the skeletons.
You'll trap me in a corner and insist I get help.

Hi, my name is Em,
I enjoy ice cream and yoghurt, people watching
And figuring out how to make them work.
I allow myself to cry more than I need to,
from letting all the wrong people in.
I have solar-powered energy, I have a battery-operated heart,
It flickers and dies from overuse.
My hobbies include rewriting my life story, hiding behind poems,
And trying to convince myself that I do matter to someone.
I don't know much, but I do know this
I know that if you don't have standards,
you won't be treated right and be happy.
I know God is still reworking my faults and flaws,
I'm a unique work in progress.

I need you.  You have invaded my heart
like an army looking for bloodshed in the
most important battle of the war.
You have left my heart ripped open,
dripping the hot blood of the most crimson
red the world has ever seen.
My veins are reworking themselves to spell
out your name.  Look closely,
you can see them through my translucent skin.

I'm reaching out for you but the air is cold.
The oxygen that fills my lungs smells of only ice.
No one is near, you're so far away.
I can't stay with you.  You are warm, I am cold.
You're wrapped up and I'm abandoned.
You sleep well with the ghost of another,
I don't sleep. Empty spaces in my bed,
empty spaces in my heart.

Don't talk to me like that; I can't take it.
I fall.  Don't talk to me.  I can't take it.
I fall. Each word that comes out of your mouth.
I trip on it, I lose my grip. I fall. My balance lost
forever with you. I fall. I'm in love. I fell.
And i'm still so cold.
And my heart is still bleeding.

One by one they fall
The ones I thought
Were my friends
There they go,
Distancing themselves
From me,
Until they are completely gone
From sight
But not from mind

Every night I remember
The fallen faces
Once friends
Now death eaters
Devouring my
Malleable flesh

"You will never lose me"
The newest one to the
Fallen faces said just the night before
She lied, and stole my friend

One less from my already
Tiny group
Of people who "care" for me

I never know what I do
To deserve this from anyone
Maybe its my tone
My anger
The demons that let themselves loose
On the page

Or maybe it's the things that count
The things they know and see of me
The kindness I give to them
The love I give for all I care for
Or the horrible, despicable, evil
Things inside themselves,
That I protect them from

My malleable flesh
That they currode away
The flesh that
They know is weak
And know they can walk all over
Because of my overwhelming kindness

I don't know
Why I keep believing
When people say they won't leave
When they always do

My mother
Gives me my kindness
My father
Gives me the rage I throw
On pages and pages
But never show

My mother
The reason why I'm so malleable
My father
The reason why I have the dreams
Of killing, of yelling

Both
My depression

My mind now
Reworking all that has just happened
In it self
It organizes my thoughts
Replaying the events
Showing what to do next time

Re-Awakening itself
To now know
Not to trust those who
Show no effort
Who pretend to know
Who eventually, will be the others
In my dreams,
Of killing
In my writing,
Where all of my demons let loose.

I want to love all
Even thought I know
Not all will love me

Waiting at a café table
You walk in and I’m disabled
Seeing for the first time
The blue-green-grey of those troubled eyes
Lost in the limelight
Where I found you, saw you,
Knew you in this new space,
Feeling this strange rhyme,
Waiting at an intersection of
Strung out weathered hope
The silence lengthens, the stare deepens
Casting what I knew into distant realms,
Reworking the good and
Finding those lines redrawn
I no longer anticipate, but wait
For those answers only you can give,
Those I was never able to predict.

I am constantly rewriting lines
I am always retracing my steps
I am stuck reworking my code
I am lost in reconfiguration

A skipping records plays
(plays, plays, p-p-plays)
and I am caught in-between
here and there and where I want to be

I want someone who is
More than just a cure for my loneliness
Someone who can seal my madness with a kiss

More than a pretty face
An electric soul
a fiery grace
More than static
Over and out of control

Til death do we tear each other apart
Reworking our guts into the bigger picture
You can't spell heart without "art"

To the one who can supernova my senses with
a stare
     a touch
          a telepathic tug

*Just be here now

An hour is as fleeting as
the angle of the morning sun,
as brief as any moment has
a kinship with the current one.

The fabric of the world with all
its artwork, every sun-dried streak,
refits the future with a small
reworking of a brush technique.

You peal back his past and and pull it through
sewing his history and his going to be up in a moment
torment and torture, you delight in his pain and his fighting
delighting in the life you are tainting, destroying
watching him straining,he is trying to forget what remaining
and I am stuck painting
sketching
reworking
searching
He wants to forget you,He wants to forget your mean, your mad, the things you stole and the things you have.
He wants to forget your mean and your mad... and all the things you once had.
He wants to forget you.
erase your face from the storybook life we have now
you refuse to let absence in, showing up in the dark
throwing bricks
steeling things from his yard
he is too nice, he is too hurt
I love him more and more and I feel this burn
burn your house
burn your yard
steel your cat
and fuel this urge
burn your mean
burn your fire
burn that look
that old desire
burn that smile that's backed with hate
fight that feeling that turns me irate
sit back down
I refuse
to do anything
that makes me feel like you
Hating what hurts what I love most
Burning hot
cheers lets toast
toast to being more
the high road is hard, I am feeling chard
I remember what matters most
I have him in my heart, he has me and his
when he says my name he does not cringe
He loves me.

Such is the mirror of a tomorrow
That makes now’s theft no more than a borrow.
Myriad borrows without reflection
Gybe the sailor’s course beyond correction.
Sailing on the waves of a reworking.
Reinforcing winter’s wind’s inflection
To fill the world with a dire infection.
Yesterday left to cruel sorrow.
Winter prevails for tomorrow.

The fallen guide the vacuous minded.
They follow to their destiny of dead.
In eternity of eternal sleep
Blind to the reward they shall never reap.
Perpendicularly prevailing for
Fighting back with righteousness they shall keep
Until victorious they take the leap
To the promise that has been read
By those remaining sound minded.

Such was the mirror of that yesterday
That cleans the slate thereafter, ev’ryday.
Their dirges sound hollow when spring is here.
They’ll never return lest we forget fear.
We learn to reflect the heart of the all.
No more need we shed a single sad tear
For this, it is written, he will forswear.
Embrace love for there’s no other way,
As it will prevail forever and a day.

I wish that we hadn't dated last year
I'm doing better now
But alas
You're not here

Would timing have changed
Our inevitable fate?
What if I'd been better
In a "more myself" state

--

But I cannot choose
How the cards fall
At the mercy of the moment
Despite wanting to control all

From this I have learned and grown
In innumerable ways
Lessons I can carry
Into life's next phase

Jesus My Saving God, works within me.

Creating my path toward his salvation.

For he does not want me to be lost here.

So through his plan and path in my life.

He creates an path that shall finish my salvation.

He works within all of his peoples life here.

Reworking an path that shall lead unto him.

It is part of the beauty of his amazing grace.

So never allow your life to end too soon.

A poetical set
of two clauses

or something
-I've never been
good at math-

(speech as
is before it
implies any
poetry)

(the indeterminate,
aleatory
in nature fully
rid of all
things prose)

do they
intersect?
at which point
does X differ
from Y and
does the
M ***** upwards
or down?

checks and
reworking

I've never
been good
at math

Taught your books
Reread your words
Walked at Walden
Life changing monent
Touching your desk left me humbled
Always crafting words like reworking recipes to improve them
Poets can't laugh at themselves but their words lessen life's highs and lows

C@rainbowchaser2019

The moon rose behind
the mountains, like
a runway.

The stars up ahead
looked pretty, from
far away.



With little vision in my eyes,
and face half-under messy water,
those lonely shores now rippled with life,
moonlight flash on pier.

Scratched ghosts of headland through seafoam,
bruise-coloured & careful, and I alone,
seeing faces in old raindrop night-time
moonscape storm had come.

All with black language of love and luck,
started war with that woman, since we changed.
Despite remem’bring tattoos and smiles at dusk,
in my dreams you fade.

Island ferry siren naked,
waves of black and brown, pulling it inward,
vibrating great shadows of formless bay,
and consuming it.

Through the spiral of shiv’ring moonlight
magic, cheap birds lost their names in the moonlight,
reworking old songs they half-memorised,
breathing us goodnight.

But have you heard their songs lately?
Are they kissing, working on new poetry?
What will they remember in three-month’s time?
And who will be there when it all falls down?

Well does that matter anymore?
This poet’s a fool, he thought he changed; It’s
just new kind’s of ****, new moonlight on pier,
hold me, anyway.

The rust-red banks of old love soon
crashed under cigarettes of rippling tide,
as horror covered whole stretch of sky,
midnight scene, & I.

Out of the fire he called me, as I stand the ashes fall off of me.
All that is left of me , is what was not burn in the fire of cleansing.
For he is at work within each of us, cleansing with a Holy Fire.
Transforming us, into his Perfect likeness, remolding each of us.
Molding , transforming us reworking us into a Holy Child.
For he uses circumstances, situations, and people in our lives.
To create an race of Humble, Holy Race of soldiers that belong to him.
For he take an group of nobodies and make us into his somebodies.
That he shall use to reach a world that is dying from our sins.

Per-iety given at prices
Left some pleading
Outrages. Sorted out of the fraction
Impacted esteem-edly
Presence of a implemented higher order
Of infernal representatives
Pulling the heart string of this
Is it you? Is it me?
Seeing isn’t really the hope to distinguish
Or figure these dream referrals
Quoting back to notations
Burnt upon a whim of superiority
Longed for to study past civilizations
Of the occurrences established in that dormancy
Of the optimal credential
Rerolling the formula to reduce onward
Continue with the answer
Now newly numerated
Mother of the order coming over
Exploding to the sorting, reworking

My heart pumping iron like a
Boilermaker
The steady hand; focused mind
Next move,
Weave through
Don’t swallow untruths
Reworking foundation like a
Millwright
Don’t let the past dismantled disarray
Frighten you away
The plans frayed
The gas breaks
I’m interlocking interrelations like a
Pipefitter
Piecing together chronicles
Of a story fabricated
Easily persuaded
Vulnerable and naked
If you’re awake,
Don’t make me wait,
Fated to the dark
Until my iron coagulates

my girl's soul
sings in me
if he can make it to 5
i can get to 10 in chains
lord,

and i send, gold
books of lies
that the worth of tonight

the worthless ways of last time
can go to hell, for making me 5
and now i go back to silent

chasing angxine
deaf skins, grasping withered tiles
unfind my lips
prohibition

transmorgaphied freaks screened
undowning the cloths
traipsings of fine
lest godly maketh reworking signs


these are lives of homeless people left out in the purge during realignment with the first wave of prisoners to be mathematically irrelevent because bondslaving the prison is treasury notes
census level capitalism and legislators delight

sending this to my editors and various weak times papers

i..


is n´t modern world marvelous
lily smirks..
we would have been old

and dead..she regards
her toes
and rather wistfully

now,
young,
and ******..

it could be
but
always beauty..!

and adventure
go on
for ever!

ii..

a)


i never really
enjoyed party
lily..

i had to be
taught
how to breathe..

i had a little
death fascination
caught between

water and skies
by the quarry
white lime..

in my wellingtons
time
fathomless..

the very shallow water
reflected the
sky perfectly..

and rose out that mirror
see..
and eventually..

voices
sounded
to me..

very very very
beautifully
slowly

(i would say
adagio..)
i would think

good or bad
with my neck
at 60 degrees

this loud choral
arrangement-
the air quivered..

sometimes i would
make
to advance..

then rise in love
come!
come..

(the lively
imagination
of a lonely child..

or some kind of
out of world
experience..)

wild lovely entrancing
i would return
again and again..

b)

once,
there
stood
a
man
behind
me..

i made
to run
but
he
calmed
with
his
hand..

he looked
where i had
been looking
and listening
to the band..

looked at me
in question
i thought don´t ask..

then one time
two big policemen
resisted my charging

bike and form..
something happened
by joseph heller..

the more i returned
the quieter
the sounds..

until
they´d gone
no birds sung

no gentle breeze
so he stared into
my frightened eyes..

and something occurred
i felt his knowledge
his wisdom wise..

so we stood in this
pestilent place
this blackest of crows..

imparted of his way
somehow
i am still

trying to figure
out today..
what did he say..

so then on returning
there was barbed wire
and chipboard..

i looked at it long
a blockage
called too late
perhaps..


to keep the creative juices flowing
i filled in with this very good book..
  up their with the dice man
as prose noir..
another reworking of an old
poem and older..i remember but am no wiser..
..