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the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.
i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;
i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)
and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.
The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.
But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in white a
PocketLeftover religion in the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
A key that unlocks nothing
A penny, a scrap of paper
With half of your name
Written in black ink
A song that is usually in my head
In the shriveled carcass
Of a long-dead dream
In the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
With the lint
SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and my frowning smile.
The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free
Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –
survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,
how many graves are we standing on, today?
Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breathe
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this
A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit
Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
A sister is like a soul mate;
Someone who is always there
to guide me through fate.
A sister is,
a part of childhood that I cannot erase;
A sister like you,
is one that I would never replace
because you always know how to
put a smile on my face.
I know I can depend on you
to always be there for me;
This is one hundred percent guaranteed!
I've had great memories with you
in the past;
and I hope there are many more
in the future.
Onceyour beauty lies restless behind those
hills, where you fought valiantly. and
the man you once were was brave and kind,
but now you are possessed by a passenger
of darkness, whispering words of your
the man you once were is forgotten, and
the man you are today, is only a ghost, a
shadow, of what you were before.
Pretty little things called words and dustif you weren't a hypocrite,
you'd be wrapped in the sweetest
how to engulf the ocean
with your lungs
and think of how to cup it
in your hands
your broken prayers and
still be beautiful)
dance with the gypsies
(a quake in
your hips like the thrust
and the faultlines
so, so graceful)
sing with the nymphs
it's growing old,
your throat's burning dry
like a monsoon
faltering in a desert,
be nestled in a king's arms
(oh, you precious
There’s a knife turnin in my soft parts
And heat burnin my mind on hard starts
The motors runnin but I lost the wheel
Just want it to be numb don’t wanna feel
Take two steps back and put it in park
Before I leave scarred up black marks
I need a u-turn on this highway
But can’t go back on the by-way
So look ahead, the pavement goes on
Break the rear-view mirror it’s gone
Put it in drive
And say goodbye
Let’s see how fast this bitch can fly
nightmarethe foxes are at your bedside and singing--
songs of boiling thoughts
and broken muscles.
they sneak so quiet, and
you can't quite
Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a rest
emotions whirl and twirl around
A merry-go-round gaining speed
Until the world blurrs before my eyes
What's happening? What's going on?
The simplest thought slips away
Right from my mind, fading so fast
Trying to focus, I stare and stare
Until my eyes are heavy and unclear.
I don't understand, what is going on...
Emotions rise and fall again
Within the blink of an eye
I'm crying, laughing, and depressed
A rollercoaster ride that never ends
Am I losing my mind in this ?
I try to close my eyes and rest
But the world spins me around
I feel like I am failing this test
Voices and noisies echo in my min
Puppet My tears fall,
My heart beats,
because of the
Why meI wanted sleep very badly
I tried my hardest to rest
I closed my eyes and laid there
But sleep didn’t come easy
I would doze off
And wake back up
Why me? When I know I have to be up at 3 AM.
FossilizedLiving proof of fossils alive,
and no horseshoe-crab am I.
Nor, inhabitable harsh compression of plates,
residing under humid marsh-scapes.
I mold into the walls, as chalky old coal.
But I am no mineral, no era.
I am not, Mesozoic.
Through the ages
silver, gold and heroic.
I remain a still-life; and no Iduna's apples would retain my youth
No magic fountains, or time devices, or wrist watches.
I am the machine of time.
The watcher, omnipotent, the wise.
no God am I
Somewhere, sweet tangy sap trolleys down cracked bark.
Somewhere, celestial bodies erupt unseen.
Somewhere, a abrupt breeze blows overturned bi-cycle tire
GwainGwain tiptoed out of the house into the gray-pink of early dawn, clutching the small, sharp mother-of-pearl handled knife she had purchased the night before.
A pleasant tight feeling of nervous anticipation filled her body as she set out at the slow trot she could keep up for miles, her long braid smacking against her tan back.
She hadn't gone looking for a job, not really.
She, like many other poor kids, had discovered that people threw coins into the ocean by the dock for children to dive and retrieve.
It wasn't her fault if she was really good at it.
There were few afternoons she couldn't be found wearing nothing but an old faded
To Anyone ListeningI'll be the thunderstorm in your night sky
If you'll just be the moon
Churning my ocean tides
Or I'll be the moon
If you'll be the solid earth
I can orbit around
I'll be a jasmine flower
And scent the night with love for you
If you'll be the rain
To keep me alive
I'll be a seedling
And grow in your love
If you'll be my sun
And warm the soil for me
I'll be yours
If you'll be mine
And love me
I'll love you forever and after
If you'll just be here
When I'm so lonely
And I'll be the thunderstorm in your night sky
If you'll come
And be with me
Hard or soft,
Or in between
I come in many guises
Basically the same
Despite all my disguises.
Or subtle and mild
Or very very bland.
Just milk made thick
By whey removed
And cultures added in.
You may eat me on bread
You may eat me with fruit
I may be sprinkled on your soup
But please pause
And appreciate me
And all the things I do.
I'm busy, it's true
But when I've a minute to think, I think of you.
My sigh when I finally go to bed
The first half, true is tired,
But the second half is lonely for you.
I remember what you say about clouds,
But to me they never look painted
When I look at them
For a minute
Before getting back to work.
I feel the touch of the wind and sun,
And it's nice,
But I want your touch.
My fork traces your name on my plate
I shiver into my chilly bed,
and wish you could help keep it warm.
My muscles ache,
but my heart aches more.
It misses you,
And the muscles just have an unoxidized buildup of acid.
In a room
I wish I existedI am just the sound
The old radio plays
Static and songs
Neither good nor bad
Nobody notices when it's turned off
And I wish so hard that I existed.
I am just the shadow
Sitting in the corner
No eyes see me
As I watch the games
Pool, ping-pong, darts,
But no eyes see me
And I wish so hard that I existed
I am just the girlfriend
On the boyfriend's side
Do his things
Meet his needs
And I wish so hard that I existed
But I don't
A Reason to LiveIf only she had the guts to actually do it, to just leap among the cold waves and sink in death among the fish. She breathed in the smell and taste of saltwater, and water sprays hit her face, neck, and chest. She shivered slightly in the breeze from the waves, but she wasn’t really bothered by the chill. What weighed on her mind was something much deeper than the weather.
A pang of apprehension penetrated her heart as she envisioned her body being plunged into the water and weighted down by the strong waves. She thought about what it would be like to gulp in mouthful after mouthful of water, choking and never feeling any relief, b
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More