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litha and sex magichow,
in the midsummer's circle he
was pressing his tongue into her
flower petal heart peeling out and tracing
stars into her skin hoping
the sage would keep on
burning, wasted away
into the cracks of the
little cottage in the woods that
sighed against the copse
and the curl
of her fingers against his
her pale yellow dress making
waves against the moonlight,
the erotes were good to her that night
but asked too much
of only bodies they received
ascend & de-
cline, rose quartz spilling off
into the air
and the city, thick
& rot with
One True LoveYou found me deep in the darkness
Even though I didn't want to be found
You heard me weeping on my knees
Alone in the dark; no one to love
Every sign pointed to different directions
But every sign lead to a dead end
I couldn't see where I was going
But the signs made it seem as if I can take any road
Every one I asked said follow the signs
Their smiles and hunched backs pointed to only darkness
Alleys with cheap tricks and lies
Cities that had so many signs to happiness
Brothels, bars, casinos, to even nightclubs
This place started to scare me
But I became so attracted to this darkness
I wanted to stay longer; maybe something here can mak
Tears of an AngelA crystal tear drop,
Blue as sapphire,
Beautiful in the light,
Of the Moon.
This shining jewel,
Filled with pain,
Of a child's last breath.
A pure emotion,
In this shimmering object,
Unto the soul.
By greedy thoughts.
Wanting to obtain this crystal jewel.
From it's iridescent Sapphire,
To the opaque Tourmaline.
It must be cleansed,
It must be pure again,
Take it to the child,
The child of Forever White.
The soul will be lost,
With no way back.
Go cleanse it,
This unfortunate soul.
NumbIm numb, there is no rage...
Im numb, no pain to cause my tears.
Tired of this rollercoaster of affection, when family hugs then stabs me..
So tired of hearing, keep the past behind you , move forward..
Only to have my past shoved in my face time and again.
I AM a good person, with a warm heart...and that heart gets hurt alot...
Im numb.. Im tired and I never want to open my eyes to lies of love again.
the way home"we are made of stars"
they wrote in my
he drew one of his
and I can navigate
by the light of stars
such as these
we are made
Frustration"My smile is fake today, inside im shaking.My bright eyes dont shine from happiness, they hold back tears of fear and frustration.Im not out walking in the sun to feel it's warmth, Im running away from the pain where I stay.Today is not a good day"
The PainterThe road twists like a river, like a snake
Brings me past trees on the hills that roll
The brushstrokes of a master evidenced
In the absolute care and precision that
The leaves are dabbled on, pointed
Like hands, like hearts.
And the farms, fields cleared, plowed,
Planted and harvested in good time
The geometry perfect, yet natural
The chronology - dare it be said - divine
And beside, the fields not man made
But cleared by the artist Himself.
Within I see flowers - white points -
Scattered randomly, beautifully
Lit along with the grass in an expertly
Executed wash of evening sunset,
Now disclosing bending, lovely, towering
Trees, oaks, pine
CrescentYou move the waters in me
make them flow along your touch
as you draw your marks and vistas on my skin,
inscribe the doors that open inwards
and let the tides rush in
as I read your letters, my skin still tender from the flame
I hear the sound of the waves
and watch the crescent rise
I know a placeI know a place,
where everything is pure.
Where life is a dance on roses,
and no one ever gets stinged by thorns.
Because nobody can ever be sad, hurt or ill up there,
pain simply doesn’t exist at any rate.
I know a place,
where springs of water becomes eternal life.
Where everybody can taste the water,
and yet nobody can drown.
Because His holyness and love is ever present,
as it embraces everyone in happiness and fill them all.
I know a place,
where the light is good and bright.
Where everything is lit up with goodness and love,
and nobody gets sun burned or feels alone.
Because God has created a Paradise of light up there,
Praddling Tides Of JudgmentalismHow is it you feel justified to judge me
Or to condemn the way I embrace my affection
Do you think you are somehow better
While you call my morality into question
Are you such a ridiculous drama queen
That you think that you're perfect and blameless
For there is none on earth that is pure
None that remains white as snow it's your faithlessness
That brings to question who we are really meant to be
Yet you praddle on and on
With eyes that never learn a thing
Because you are set in yourself
And see none other in their suffering
Arrogance so blind it can strangle the life
Out of the spirit of nobility
Sickening greed so powerful
That no more is t
barriersadjusting the angle of the laser gun
that points at a
caleidoscopic stew so far;
at the moon.
so trickle his days.
he devotes himself to
forcing the torrid and the
with the torpid, milk-white and the ilk,
sparking specks of
all the colours of the universe,
striking stone against
but never do
into a single pattern.
over the technicolour platter.
yeshu rides through the groomed, hushed city
picking up prostitutes and cracking peanuts,
it is a tender
night and the wind rubs its head against his ca
nothing is the limit i am 5'10 barefooted,
and the 5" heels i wear
are to make boys like
insecure about women like
i only want the clicking
of my heels to be like a
for you, signaling the end of
my lipstick doesn't stain,
and my nail polish doesn't
chip, and everything about
me is made to be
so look over your shoulder
and sleep with one eye open
because on of these days,
Fear the Darki do not understand why no one helps us
we are hurting
we are being hurt
we cry out for help
but no one comes to our aid
there are so many people who could intervene
but they choose themeslves
instead of others
our bodies carry our pain like war scars
our tears are shed without evidence that they were ever there
we are always there whether you see us or not
we are always waiting for that one person who will
look at us and finally see us
instead of looking through us
or averting their eyes
they pretend we do not exist
that were not worth their time
or their help
and i guess we are not worth it
when so many people look at us
and see nothing
it's hard to see ourselves in any other light
we live in the shadows
we see how you treat us
we see the pity and disgust in your eyes
but you do not see the understanding in ours
because according to you we do not have
the right to be here
we do not even diserve the kick you throw our way
you think that we are just animals
lower than even th
for the deluded mind
leading to mental intrusions
WordsYour words that pierce like a knife through my skin, hurt worse than a bullet to my heart.
But you don't take the time to think them through. For the love of God won't you stop and hear the cries of a million voices, each one a victim of your ruthless game.
You tear others down to raise yourself up. Your pride gets in the way and eventually you will fall and see what your words do.
Like a needle to my skin, pinpricks to my soul. Selfish you and your stupid tricks.
Is it cool to shoot at someone with the gun that is your mouth? Does it make you feel better to rip others apart.
Look now, you terrible fool, at the physical marks left on your target. This game you play, it isn't cool, it's just sick.
But for the sake of popularity you continue to spit out words of acid burning through someone else.
I hope one day you feel the pain others feel at the cause of your words. I hope one day someone puts you in your place and makes you feel as low as others now feel.
Then maybe you'll learn to un
the deep end of thoughts
snuff out time between my palms
is an impossiblity, and it knows-
its wanderings tensed with the effort
of blowing stories through my ears, without sound
I am left to make up excuses
for eleven-eleven dreaming,
and follow the roads I've grown to know
to stammer reasons why I make idle use of my fingers
why I send postcards too far away
to read, sometimes
what is so inevitably meant for my eyes
at an exact, windswept second,
brings me to flooding ink all over again,
an apogee of waitingif I could, I would replace
my heartbeat with his voice
my aches are at once cured
and flung open
at the thought of his name-
oh, to cut out tiny stars in his photograph,
press them to my lips while
at the same time trying not to remember but
to see what I have gone to-
to cherishing the ink from his pen
and grasping it in my sleep
will there be no solace? for I dream not,
but instead follow shredded words
hollow as the
A Lingual Facade+
Once I have mastered the art of
holding gazes for more than three seconds, and
no longer am conscious that my excuse for music theory is
I shall find a courage betwixt heart and reason.
With which I can learn to
tilt my head down and look up-
so that my lashes serve more purpose than eyelid trimming;
find it in myself to not only hold, but open
little plastic boxes of blush, cherry-tinted in
,and pick the inchoate French off my tongue
as if it
in and outin and out, is how the days go
barely noticing the floor under my feet, the
restless air I breathe, it goes:
in and out.
I freefall toward the bottom of my thoughts
until it's three in the afternoon
and I give myself to the lull of sun-
play with this thin silver passion for a while
leaving bruises that take their time
going away, but love always
is careful to mark.
it's another day; I'm waiting
for us all to wake up
to give ourselves the way I think I may be doing
the need to belong somewhere-
why is that not stronger? and
it might take a while, so
in and out, I
pull in the seconds through the negative space
you should hold on-+
the light makes shadows
fall in ways they usually don't
the windows let in silence
I have nothing to guide my pen
until I realize, how
night is collapsing into twelve a.m.
that is called the next day, I believe
I'm smiling because it's simple
I'm sulking because it's simpler
even with the blue spots clouding up
five in the morning
I'm baring my heart, because
it takes hardly any effort at all
and I can read between the pages
a half-step faster than I can run through life
so something tells me
maybe not everything's all right
I go look in the mirror, because
it's the only thing I can think to do
stare at myself, shake th
tangled legs under runaway hems
when they ask, they think they already know
too often, it is
the love that trainwrecked once under the stars
leaving hollows behind;
the treetops were black lace stains against the sky
reading too much into secrets
that were never there
strung out, this is to
biting lips already marked
and pinching blushes to rival sunsets
lately, it's been
a sideway smile when it's too quiet
or, as they say, just quiet enough
to ignore the stocking runs
and the door that never closes
being an actress was bad enough
the chance to start over
disappeared several wrong turns ago
so scrap through the dic
another sappy documentaryI examine-
my legs, shorter than determination,
the changing shapes of my eyes. A length of
hair that I've spilled into dream puddles.
Color I left by the front door, and a
lock that's kept out demons for too long.
But we, I and I
ran down that street together.
I sat once in the freezing meridian of
thunder and rain, believing
that sins could be washed away. That crying when
everything else was wet would make it better. Like
jellyfish soap operas and slow waltzes on the ocean floor.
Curled up on a loveseat, on my own,
thinking of crowded rooms and empty hearts and
why they ever allow lunches where tables hold ten
and I am elev
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`ChewedKandi has certainly gone out of her way to keep the vector community on the right path. Always making sure that her talents are infinitely scalable, Sharon has put her bezier curves to excellent use, and firmly anchored herself as an inspirational leader. We're absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for June 2013 to `ChewedKandi. Congratulations, Sharon! Read More