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Old 12-29-2009, 11:05 AM   #21
Carmel
 
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Walls
Written by: Jammydude44

We'd spent our time together,
with cement-covered hands
and trowels and mixers
building our wall, brick by brick.
We had taken down the
scaffolding poles and planks-
the wall was finished;
they held no use.

Into summer, when the sun
caresses the sky into
a warming smile, our wall
stood proudly amongst others.
They were just pretenders
compared to ours, we thought.

Predictably, the thunderstorms
came, blustering and pounding
upon the solid stature. Exploding
in the sky, cannoning, destroying
what we'd crafted together. The
aftermath left us open mouthed.

Neither of us moved to fix it.
I saw you stare, as I did, at the
large pile of rubble on the ground.
It remained like that for many months;
passers-by flashing a rue smile
at our obvious, poor workmanship.

I spoke first- let's rebuild.

So having learned from past mistakes
we built this wall with better bricks,
and many storms have blown and gone
but our wall stands, now tall and strong.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:05 AM   #22
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Poem on the Back of Your Wallet Photograph
Written by: *Truly Ninja*

I am sure you would appreciate
That you hold my place in books.
After all, I always attempted to woo
You with the written word.

What I won't admit is this:
Every time you tumble from the pages
Onto my bedsheets, I softly pinch the
Corner and I lift you to my lips.

Your cautious smile overtook me
Once, and I did it without thinking.
I've always done it since--Tradition
Mingled with dying desire.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:06 AM   #23
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On California
Written by: pixiesfanyo

tether awkward glances
above a satisfied reprise.
i cut my futures out of paper.
placed them into a river bed.
cast line into my prospects.
but my father keeps taking my hand,
his breath heavy with cheap beer
and saturated fats.
his fingers over mine
guiding that feeble line
i clutch with blushed palms.

switch to a crowded dinner table.
i itch in uncontrollable lonesome.
packaging letters in my mind.
the conversations around me
reek of politics and pop culture
but, i’m just counting days
until i see yr chicory frame.
would you write me back
and tell me what it is like to be in love?
because stale liquors and broken tabs
only seem to go so far.

i have my knees curled to my chest
with ease on the dock.
my hands ripe with labor
feeling faded in yet another summer’s
endless choke.
my eyes heavy with stray change
i sit making paper crowns
from torn fates with my feet
dipped in an endless pond
of my own construction.

wondering if my reel has been spent
like a boy, if i let that catch back to sea.
and with baited hooks
i trace every moon line
hoping to forget myself
in the amusement of tasks.
but every evening my rod lays in reflection.
laid in empty harbors
my own lace of self entrapment unravels
and i stare doe-eyed into my desolation.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:06 AM   #24
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The Little Things Controlled by the Breeze
Written by: Trig Function

The smoke swayed with the bend of the waves
I felt stranger in the warmth of the days.
Hard to breathe, can't believe
I saw my eyes floating in the crest of the reeds.

But maybe, if i began to see
the little things controlled be the breeze
I'd know, willows can swirl
next to the hazy tides of the world.

And in deep, far beneath
I watched my body fall away with the sea.
Beat down, tossed around
I didn't feel pain until I'd already drowned.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:06 AM   #25
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The Chiffarobe
Written by: Chak

He was haunted with an overbearing
commitment to make me feel worthless.
A joker amongst kings, their collars
studded with beryl and corundum. He
felt empowered, fueled with synthetic
freedom, but everything he touched
turned immediately to stone. More
gray then the mourning of the Sun,
but if its light warms my skin perhaps
I can retain a shred of hope.

I have yet to see this compromise
that holds me captive to uncertainty.
And I already held more guilt than
I could handle, struck with the chord
of fragrant restraint. His anger felt the
mark of scrutiny, townspeople fretted in
obligatory hunger for the truth. But loyalty
proves more powerful than honesty. A
pinprick mapping the base of my spine
sends signals for my hair to stand on end.

I was in awe. His shadow proved more
enchanting than my father’s unrequited
respect. He was the faith in which I granted
my cautious attention. Wanted in a world I did
not belong. He made me feel like the most
translucent of diamonds, felt patterns within
my soul and reflected them through starlight.
I felt breathless, invincible. Immersed in the
compliance of my naivety, which I overcame with
error in my ways. And I became a traitor that day.

Regret thudded hard against my ribcage.
Bruised. And I looked past my father to truth,
where my answer predictably fell short.
I condemned him to a life that was undeserved,
cast him into the shadow of shame. My failure
is refracted within the barrel of a gun, used to
destroy acceptance among people I could never
know. Strangers, not quite friends, in which
I trusted more than blood.

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Old 12-29-2009, 11:06 AM   #26
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Gehenna
Written by: The Hurt Within

I stood. A luminary.
Against a viscous tide of shallow breaths
smut rolls wonder from a tableau -
attentive eyes cater a silent pyre
in crest-fallen skies,
while cantering souls lead past a simoniac
gifting Ayin Ha'ra to spurious followers.

I knelt. In twilight.
Upon schema-conduits of barren soles,
Khamsin winds scour laden plains -
committed minds cater a boundless pyre
in downcast hearts,
while cantering souls present a sacrifice
- with extremis apt - to the edge of Hell's throat.

I leapt. A martyr.
Towards the uncharted depths of Earth's crux
Gehenna's limbs entwine my body -
destined fingers cater an infinite pyre
with expectant reach,
while cantering souls lift future offerings
above the smouldering sands, ready to let go.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:07 AM   #27
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Peripherals
Written by: Bassbeat77

I'd been found in a flood once before,
but I came out herringbone dry.
With a flatter line than the Arctic horizon,
and a deeper soul than the faultline dividing,
I had felt like I could walk amongst
the sea snails forever.

Then Summer came as an infernal wave,
tipping and toe-ing and taking it's time,
blowing it's whistle to speed things along.
Spreading kisses like dried cement,
and too self-righteous for it's own good.

It lifted me out of my algal residency,
where salt and salty sentiments
were what I brought into my lungs.
Where longitude and latitude
were the only blueprints that I needed
to build castles out of sand bars
and not-so-hidden treasure.

Until finally I choked. And since then
every Summer has made me wish
that maybe my hindsight wasn't 20/20.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:07 AM   #28
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The End
Written by: less than that

out of sight on my mind
duct taped over Check Engine light.
all the street signs in this town
say the same thing "Get Out"
not now, not now.

foolhardy fugue to visit you
feels like I have to sneeze when I don't want to.

back to the daily grinding my teeth.
chew a new hole through my tongue.
blood on the windshield; where did it come from?
the sun gets all spun around as I
try to take the guardrail down.

triple A, my mom, the police,
they'll all come and make the scene.
but for now I'm part of a peculiar peace
no broken glass or bones
what do you know? what do you know? what do you know?

wonder if what's wrong with us is contagious.
sit and listen to the radiator's rattlesnake hiss
then check to see how bad it is.

front of the car like the
end result of a trick cigar.
its contorted metal
gets me all pseudocidal.
something green drips into the street.
I stare for a while at the DieHard battery
then call you to say I'm not coming.
I know an omen when I see one.

glad it however hapless happened
the best bad idea I ever had.

the calm collapse of the anticlimax.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:07 AM   #29
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and I drift away
Written by: Alk 3 addict

From this height, the ocean looked as a sheet, slightly ruffled. Reminding me that I hadn't had a restful night in ages. It is this hot air balloon, the color of a wilted rose, that carries me out over the abyss, they never said that adventure had to be carried out in style. Then I cut it from the clouds, a portrait of beauty and salvation, and wrapped myself in a dirty blanket. I figured that I would, at least for tonight, let life take me where it would. I shut my eyes, and drift towards the sounds of a west-bound breeze, like a voiceless choir and a faceless future. Dreams lost all shape, and became scribbles upon clouds, basking inches above my head. It was the fingerless man playing violin in front of a crowd of three thousand, the blind man finding freedom through surrender, the rubble of a city being juxtaposed into a makeshift miracle, the golden ring placed on the finger of a skeletal bride, yet I just could not grasp the plot of this story. Suddenly like the impact of a bullet it struck me, as my eyes jerked open just in time to watch the air around me ignite. I'm sure that from the shore I looked like a star, burning brightly, the most beautiful thing I could have ever imagined. A jet-stream of blue and white flame, and it is the end.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:07 AM   #30
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I
Written by: #1 synth

I, capitalized, full
I, looking like a snowfall as I come crying,
Gazing at your feet,
I need a savior, someone strong, someone invisible,
I, groveling inside a neighborhood, licking my lips inside a city,
I, silent inside a man holding a megaphone outside of planned parenthood,
I, sinew, cells, and fate,
I, immaculate-- impossible to--
"Amazing the lightning is dont you think?"
I pour down as the thunder after wonderment,
Listen to me then, echoeing off the mountains, off the churches and fountains,
I smell like the day before a breakup, rich with mildew, cold and dirty.

My clothing is getting so heavy with mold that I'm finding it harder to fly.

I, underneath a state, an ocean, a lover panting hard (a dream),
I, underneath a bow, a bow, and a bow of a ship as it roars
Across the fairgrounds in tight circles,
I, the words needed to accurately describe--
I and a miraculous sunset, holding hands into the inevitable.

I, the opposite... of what? Life is to being forgotten.
Sunrise is to death and everything else is to a kiss.

I, that kiss, I, under your foot, yep, there we are.
I, the smile of knowing where we are, at the corner of 20th and stark,
Indefinite, lost in a thunderstorm.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:07 AM   #31
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Awaiting Exile (Parting with This Auburn Sky) - Writing of the Week
Written by: Z_cup_boy

This silver blade speaks each dissonant phrase
In place of where we would intertwine as lovers
Limbs breathing the same leaves
Kissing the lips tinted of the reddest wine
Each tip serving as a spear
Each incision as a counting finger for time
The depth of all daylight mirrors a tainted slab of flesh
Pest ridden, discriminated against the cleanest carcass I could kill
Death did I intend?
I think not, for I have yet to cleans these hands
As I await exile, I have never felt so damned
Excreting the salt in my wound; I am an infant
Immersed into the beauty of this day after dusk
The darkness after twilight
As I await exile
To part with this auburn sky
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:08 AM   #32
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24 14 4+4+6 2 1 sonnet 1 2 6+4+4 14 24
Written by: Gurgle!Argh!

i tore through the fabric concealing this clock.
oh hands i forgot, oh quick marching step,
sixth harshad times met, a moment at rest,
that moment most blessed when hands interlock.

i pulled at its hands and hoped they might give,
that time does not live, but is bound to our pull,
that the beat may be null, that hands may be wrought,
thus 'gainst time i fought, to dissonance omit.

but iron once wrought will be wrought no more
and fabric once torn will always be scarred.
times unsleeping pull, it always pulls on,
with a force which endures, unmoved by our lore.
so i'll count out each moment across these fanned hands,
til hands may be one, now thru time's accord.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:08 AM   #33
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Perilous Machine
Written by: we have sound

I can't hear a word you are saying
above the noise of this perilous machine
winging its way cross country.
What a travesty.
Agencies to the alliance, we engage in diplomacy with
"Let's stop and ****!" and
"Not yet baby, I'm ballin' this jack another hundred"
but we stop and **** anyway,
just to kill time.
But the loud pedal aches and the country is barren so
soon enough, we're back on the road again.
Not a piss stop, and not maritime baby this is a real motor,
and what a noise.
Straight and true, no swaying here,
just a gaping cavernous wonderful powerful grill,
eating up the miles.
I watch the white lines flash past for a while,
grab a beer from the back
and you give me that look - but it's hot and I'm thirsty
and what I say goes.
I juggle the can and wheel like an acrobat,
lob the empty, watch the scenery.
Mountains.
Heat haze like an angels halo around a cross
high up on the rocks. Trust the Spanish.
If a girl fell from those rocks and split her head,
I reckon you'd see soul.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:08 AM   #34
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Foxy Foxy & Rory Have Their First Kiss
Written by: Something_Vague


He'll pack up and pack out, he's an
artist who spells his name "Are test."
He's a prince who spells his name
"Prints." Coughed up like folded
paper, he'll pay her with
origami swans, stories about
Tokyo streets and transparent
women who died in their sleep
and loved in his arms.

Rory's first kiss was in the third grade.
Ever since then he's been building
walls with his "ABC" blocks
and the only thing big enough
to look over is his own
sky high ego. All the while my grin
is so admirable the teeth from my
tiger cut falsies, are stained
pearly, pearly red. And the blemish
on my laugh is a gaping horizon,
swallowing every plane and bird
that he throws in the air.

Rory is thinking about the last time
he honestly loved someone. I know it from the
crystal glimmer in his silly stare. That
over-due whimper between the bite and
bone. Pay her with folded paper.
Foxy Foxy legs, and Foxy Foxy limbs,
Foxy Foxy climbs and Foxy Foxy lives.
Foxy Foxy teeths, and Foxy Foxy mouths
Foxy Foxy eats and
Foxy Foxy ****s out.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:08 AM   #35
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Untitled
Written by: NGD1313

I’ve bled the stone of prosperity in a lonely alleyway
And stained my hands red, painting a peaceful town.
Killed a Tokyo Rose because her sallow lips were bringing me down.
I stumbled down the courtyard calling my God’s name,
And kissed the Virgin Mary
Because her hallowed hips couldn’t bear my pain.
Drank Christ's blood for 40 days
And christened myself a God-damned saint.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:08 AM   #36
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Gallows Humor
Written by: less than that

Shut up. Let me finish.

I hadn't had dinner yet;
Sucked down cigarettes instead
to the filters, warmth ate its way
down to my fingers:
Replacement addictions.

Shut up, I said.

My hate's so hard.
Rocks in my pockets,
stones in the souls of my shoes.
I heard the good news-
still I let my laugh crack,
cackle through the gallows.
Silence -- Impassible.

and your words come to me as wounded birds
sex smile. bedroom eyes. kissing my hands.
I know where I stand.
Quicksand.

wounded birds
stupid and beautiful

Shut up, I said
Shut up shut up shut up.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:08 AM   #37
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The Circle Re-Connects
Written by: BigFatSandwich

At first it all seemed heaven-sent,
But you haven't seen heaven since
He took your hand and mislead you down the aisle.
Blue eyed girl in the long white dress,
Your head's not right and your heart's a mess,
And it's been that way for such a long while.
You're always looking for love where love doesn't exist
In bars and beds under strangers' hips
And accepting all their lies as the truth.
Well, it's a false sense of security, but it's security, nonetheless...
So what is she supposed to do when insecurities get the best
Of her? She's only human, just like me and you,
So of course she broke down when she first got the news.
But I can't fault you, you did what you had to do.
You decided to keep it and keep him with you.

And those first few weeks were happiness
And no one can deny...
But he couldn't love you
He didn't have the time.

He's not what you need,
Just a figure of a father.
So you left him and then
Gave birth to your daughter.

And you'll raise her by yourself, you don't need him to love her
But oh my god, you've become your mother.
Your mother, your mother, you've become your mother,
Your mother, your mother, you're just like your mother.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:09 AM   #38
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Mornings.
Written by: Carmel

At mornings, going past
the same eroded homeless man that
disagrees with this idea
of him; he has a bin to keep
his clothes in, and he fumbles
when by his bench, on the corner of the square,
there are students, or some other
section of society, demonstrating
over this or that.
And I’m passing by, on the way
to higher education, higher population;

And I drink out with my friends, listen
when they say, “You see too much.”
I laugh and then I stop. I say:
“Sometimes I wish I was
more blind.”
I wouldn’t mind not seeing
the homeless man,
crying for his clothes, after
the sanitation people came and took away
everything he owned,
when he was driven away,
away from his home,
by student asking for
better human rights.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:09 AM   #39
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Waxman and the Museum of Wicks
Written by: Snowblind 911

the pretty waxmen
and their flawless, aching smiles.
picture perfect postures caricatured
on pin-up perceptions.

we place feathers under
candle kings like we place the
madcap over the face
of a newly crowned widow and
her faded red finger-painted dress.
even though the children
can’t fashion pieces so full of
unabashed emotion we’re happy
to force smiles and label them modern Picassos
anyway. and then we wonder why the
walls end up painted in blood.

chickens have feathers.

ironic? probably not.
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Old 12-29-2009, 11:09 AM   #40
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flutterby butterfly
Written by: Arthur Curry

your limbs, your skin, my water wings,
and do you know words were made to sing?
planetary dust makes a planetary ring.

a thousand cocoons make me nervous,
and you're my sunday morning service;
when the choir sings they tickle me and burst open.

they burst and they go,
circling my soul.
small explosions in me,
x-rays of a firework show.

now i see me in your eyes,
staring at you, staring at me;
stars are reachable and ripe.

i think this is what it feels like to die.
i mean i hope this is what it feels like to die.
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