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The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselves
and I began to wonder if that was the death of them.
A simple, quiet death;
without broken fingernails lining the walls
with the stripes of a despairing end.
I began to ache with the questioning in my heart
with the echoes reverberating in my capillaries
of her face scorching sunshine in her smile
right before it crumpled
and nothing was left but a frowning moon
set firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.
Dandelion QueenI dream of the ocean;
that paper-thin line where
the current swallows the stars
and the water churns violet
(you tell me to be
dandelion queen, we've
heard all these words before)
I will sleep heavy
and wake a few hours before dawn,
only to forget my name
my wave-weathered heart will cry,
I will cry (my biggest fear
is drowning in too many
of my own weighted words
you tell me to be
so I can hear the world breathe)
I want to go home
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
Overgrown ColorsRed like blood on a rose.
White like bone and stars.
Black like reclusiveness.
Green like dead air.
Orange like the savage instinct.
Purity like a god's heart.
Red like thawing hatred.
White like a frozen, severe cry.
Black like the night's deprived shadows.
Green like the wind in the grass.
Orange like the light in the shadows.
Purity like the sun rising.
So discharging through the moon in a wheeze is like luminous white, dispersed red.
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
WindowsHere am I, repeated,
and beyond waits everything
but everything is more
than I can bear.
I am not built for altitude
nor looking far afield;
groves and granite-sided mountains
stop my gaze
like rest for every tired wing;
a cover in the coldest time
snugged up beneath my chin.
Windows nothing more,
but safe lies there behind them
as the chambered hours pass;
safe sleeps there behind them
on the soft side of the glass.
Dry Spell I am immobilized by time.
by the idea that it is somehow slipping,
through the cracks of
my fingers and high
above my head.
I am terrified by the incessant notion
that no combination of thoughts,
could possibly satiate it.
I realize only now that it can never be filled:
all which is tossed into it is swallowed in haste
that it dissolves into non-being.
I find that I am caught within its furrows
much like the words it devo
with thanks to frosttwo roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
and here you are:
facing a choice between
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
this is what
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?
Pull Her Hair/Stare At The StarsThe ghosts have crashed their ship
on the other side of town,
you can see it from the second floor
all the way over here.
You can see the white clouds
rising from the wreck
and a nova of heat, a big bright
nova of warmth pulling the moths and wolves
out from the woods (with their noses up and searching).
You can smell the yearning like bees
leaving the hive, like the grizzly brown bears
on the jagged white mountains (concrete and imposing).
They call it fear,
but I see these ghosts
scrambling up into the sky
and I like to think it's
something different entirely.
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.
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 Night By the FireNo light,
The light sired by the night
All above whilst the day's delights
Now disappears from mortal sight.
Faded away is the sun's power,
Taking the stage now is night's sallow flower;
Now mortals may behold the stars and falling shower.
Set in a pit Nature's skyscraper ablaze
And revel in the emanating heat as you gaze,
Looking down on occasion when you hear a crack from the fire
And witness "fireflies" flying away from mother's blaze;
Dying shortly after but not lacking burning beauty do they desire!
I look out towards the teasing shore
And meditate as we sit upon her door,
Thinking on what my future has in store;
Who I am now and even
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
Brain StormMy brain sloshes ‘round within my skull
The waves pounding against my temples
Endless chatter screeches like seagulls
My thoughts erupt the cortex as lava
Travelling through my body to Vena Cava
Poisoning my violent beating heart
Rattling the physical and spiritual apart
Where the dust lies one’s mind a chemical eruption
Silence goes unnoticed, in the brain full of disruption
Feelings like tornados uprooting reasoning
Destruction, anger deepening
Where there is silence surfacing the outer skin
There is insanity devising its design for turmoil within
Flaying neurons and catastrophic brain signaling
From subconscious preconditioni
ErrorsCold breath on my purple lips,
The sensation touches my ears’ tips
Echoes of dead roses in a fierce-some gloom
My sorrow follows me as though it’s in full bloom
The open air levitates my still form
The coldness shocking me like a magnetic storm
I lay lifeless, colder, stiller, than my skin an icy blue
Spread out as to catch this morning’s dew
The mist is like a comforting blanket
My head, stripped of innocence, a blank planchet
Waiting to be stamped by my failures
Rather than face my sneering errors
Can’t I stay here, to be kissed by memories?
Ladled out from the stagnant pool of the centuries
Soothing fingers stroke
Superficial MeThe External Struggle Inc.
435 Insecurity Drive
Planet Earth, America
February 1, 2013
The Internal Self Co.
P.O. Box E. Heartland Drive
Planet Earth, Reality
Dear Internal Self:
I know you are good
I know how you're able
I know you are beautiful
And quite capable
I know you are strong
I know that you're graceful
I know you’re perseverant
And wholly faithful
I know you're secure
A moral silhouette
I know that you will forgive
And forever forget
I know that you're smart
I know how you've been brave
I know that you’re respected
And always behave
I know you’re thankful
I know how you're friendly
I know you are flexible
Take a BreatherI’m not a model nor superstar
but I’m just as special as the next rock star
I’m not the queen of wonderland
But I have a heart and I understand
I’m not a magician nor actress
but I have good tastes as an artist
One day you may find me rotted in my chair
Where I sat and wrote my little heart out there
Well I may not be an amazing athlete
But in math and science I sure got you beat
I’m not a famous singer
But I am a wild dreamer
While I may not be strong and without fear
I am at least brave enough to shed a tear
While I don’t always have perfect things to say
I can sure give good hugs away
Everything I NeedI never took the time to look around
Until I realize, in despair I’m found
I fret and worry like Peter on the sea
Until to Jesus Christ, I forever plea
Then to heaven, aye my heart is free
Now in this world, my heart no longer be
I set my gaze to greener rolling hills
And feel His Word how my lungs it fills and fills
I look up to azure skies
To think about how the angel flies
Eyes are sure to find a budding rose
How Christ’s love it grows and grows
In the morn, wetness of the dew
Hearing birds sing so lovely and I'm all new
Try to think not as much of me
Just want to love them all no matter who they be
Most important thing
Dark ShawlI see those eyes all sparkling clear,
Stare at me while I’m standing here.
Heart shaking, all wrapped in fear;
Looking down at concrete, glimpsing
Pretty nails and costly pedicure,
But who needs those to feel secure.
Just give me my black shawl,
So I can crawl
Behind the cloven alleys;
For life I am indentured
To black, and being depraved
Of all the things that I’m not allowed,
In my world against the crowd.
So give me my darkened shawl,
I’ll hide behind, hoping to go by
Behind a shadowed human wall.
Running from the PastBare thunder-charged hooves
Pound heavily upon the earth's aching back
Clear cutting impressions in its skin
Baring down on it without mercy
From the flaring contempt nostrils
To the free floating mane through tail
The animal clear in his intention
Battles in flight to the horizon
His breath streaming gaseous steam
As blood rushes freedom through his veins
The earth's poles impress upon his spirit
But his anger and strength surpasses
Every hoof leaves a bloody trail
The earth breaking with each stride
Miles and miles of painful change
Is repaid by a snort and a spiteful neigh
The beast has put acres between
Its captors, its dark eyes are
What Am I? Lingering in that photo...
In that simple shot (still, I feel the bullet there)
I look, and I see a woman.
I am not a woman.
I have never worked for a lifestyle,
given birth for an allowance
I have never truly loved a man.
I am not a woman.
I do not have the means to
to wake, feel the calling..(oh, it calls, but I do not answer)
and move, move, move
until I reach a place of
I am not a woman.
Sometimes, I still take the
of my childhood and
place it on shoulders of
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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