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aj Jun 2015
lies wet on my lips
eyes set to the sky
ears keen to the sound
of your reluctant goodbye

the gods hold my silence,
as aphrodite sews my lips shut,
all the while your fading silhouette
becomes just a bit too much

for years i'll long for your touch,
but i'll forever wear this hue
of a red so strong
it brings back visions of you
i'll really miss you allie
Mosaic Jun 2015
I found you sleeping with price tags
             like tea bags
little men inside the barcodes

Dragging you to the forest
I plant you by your shoes
Digging your heel into the Earth
  to feel its heartbeat

I told you this story once before
       The little men are trying to build a cage around you
But I won't let you be
no Gulliver's Travels
I send them scurrying like ants
to Noah's Ark
They set sail for Wall Street

Only one sprout comes from
          your veins
And waterfalls have hope for you yet
Alt. Titles
Reality Check pays the Bills
Morphine in the Bamboo Shoots
Paper Thin
Green not Green
Old Scars, New Carvings
Transcendental Reminisce
Henry David Thoreau the Oxygen Factory
Meg B May 2015
We met in the summertime,
which I recall because the AC in his apartment
was mediocre at best,
and fans were splayed throughout the
white-walled space as we attempted to
keep cool.

His roommate introduced me,
as he sat with no shirt on,
perched on a wooden chair,
staring intently at a deck of cards.

I think the first thing I noticed was the dazzle of
his smile,
but I can't pretend my eyes didn't veer
to the perfect V that was on display
just above his basketball shorts.

His skin glowed a perfect shade of honey and
cinnamon
in the dim lighting
that emitted from the sole lamp in the corner
of the living room.

I became submerged in a blur of
card games and laughter
and an eerily similar taste in music,
so much so that I forgot it was not he
who I had come to see.
anon May 2015
His eyes were empty
but filled me with life
His hands were cold
but warmed my heart
I knew his lips spoken words of pain but his kiss numbed me
He had been broken before
But he completed me now
I've seen the girls staring at him
Who could blame them?
He was beautiful
He taught me that some people can only give what they can't receive
aj Mar 2015
apollo's dead-set light shines on beauty.
the gushing of blood boils high in the guilty crowns of gored kings.

TO COURT BEAUTY IS TO BATHE IN IMMACULATE, ETHEREAL ECSTASY!

YOU ARE NOT WORTHY.

ichor spills in the cursed name of the light-born.
blessed with the scrutiny to scorch the iciest of hearts.

they sit on their faux thrones, just above Olympus,
with the wide eyes of wander and lust;
the bodies of gold and trust.

they sit high on their thrones,
with their own
black-light sun.

they sit on their broken thrones
stained with the blood of seraphim.

beings of smokeless fire burn away the truth

and we love them anyway.
For Joseph, who always seems to light my fire

(Not about you, though you really know how to get me writing)
I need castles made of sand
instead of men made of snow,
eventually we'll fall into the sea
and bath in sun induced slumber
among our kingdom in the sand.
Evan Hayes Dec 2014
I'm at the star room
Stargazing at the night sky
Look up at the sky and I ask myself why
I guess I let myself pass by
Now all that's left is a good bye

Left alone all delusional
Delusions in conclusions celebrate hallucinations
Hallucinations celebrate mass debates
Mass debates on masturbates
Now my delusional hallucinogens lead my conclusions

My dream is divine comedy
The only thing I'll need is the remedy
Lead me to the battlefield
Trojan horse battle shield
Behind enemy lines
Saving private's mind

Lighting crashes at the bottom
Leading men to bought 'em
I'm picking the moral cotton
And it's all rotten

I will not conform
I will not perform
For you
For you I've told you
I'm nothing but a madman
Without a blue box

No tricks
No gimmicks
I'm surrounded by cynics
I'm getting all the licks
In did I tell ya
I will just let ya
**** me
As long as you don't cremate me
Mostly just something for me....
Maybe there’s a God above,
but all I’ve ever learned from love,
was how to shoot at someone
who outdrew you.
It’s not a cry you can hear at night.
It’s not somebody
who has seen the light.
It’s a cold,
and it’s a broken Hallelujah,

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Leonard Cohen- One  of the most beautiful songs ever written- in my humble opinion.
Flowing water, see.
Never comes back in any
river. Time's the same
Madeline Moore Jul 2014
maybe we expected the dishes
to be this *****
maybe we demanded of the willpower
yanked from the exact place
of everything and joined by just
                             our fingernails
                             busy carrying our pails
                             up the hill
                             to fetch a bottle of
                             wine.


     Only to find ourselves stumbling
                           back up the hill for
                                               more.
This poem is about the things we do and mistakes we make over and over again even though we may have known they were coming or know of their consequences by using metaphor and an allusion to the nursery rhyme of Jack and Jill.
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