New poems are under "So Fresh!"
Voice is under ".mp3s"
thanks,
kyla


HospitalAsk for a world in which the white recedes and colour bleeds back in. You can feel a hand again as it softly strokes your hair - and you know it's your own. Nothing takes you from pain like its own promise. And where is promise?Hospital
Ask for a primrose world, one that means something beautiful but you don't know what it means. You can walk in its colour, softly, all day and that
will do for when the white comes back, thinking of taking you. You can't feel your hand again but you know it will return when
the colour bleeds back in.


The Heat of His DepartureHe didn't suffer much. The agonies of measuring the streets would never have him, but at least he knewThe Heat of His Departure
to count the days by who has not yet died. He meant to map a city with his feet and bring home to her
new pictures of his heart. But she never heard the music of roads and shop lights, she only
knew his feet that beat the pavement dry. She left home without him. He grew tired of walking but failed to stop,
didn't find an edge, didn't fall, but slowly, without a thought to her clouds
suddenly above him, dissolved into tar and


Names Will NeverWrite me a poem, I am too tired to write my own. I have no words for beaten women and men in jail, I have a love of love poemsNames Will Never
- drumming the ground, flying the oceans, sailing - in my mind I have a love of sailing.
Write me a poem, I am too sad to beat the drums you'd hear inside oceans, those drums were for love and this isn't love -
Write me some quiet. Four days and not one silence came my way. There's just the noise of sticks on ground and sticks on bones and I was wishing for rain and song when the rain came - and that


TulipsI'm sorry we're still talking about this. My body and your body and bare bodies abounding - there should beTulips
nuclear physics in our bedrooms instead, the politics of elevators that go to the moon. Oh I am
so tired of tulips and veils. The internet will take me out my windows and doors, the colony gate, into the street and out
where I can know I would have been shot but not be shot, see the carnage, not be the carnage (a bomb rips through the city
killing one-thirty, two bombs rip through the city killing one-thirty) I'm sorry at one-


Paper RaincoatsI heard a song and a sip of tea too strong for me, But I took it anyway The way bells ringPaper Raincoats
sometimes only in the West
I’d like to think time would wait for me in the cloud pockets like bags
collecting mail, slow this down slow me down So I can feel this
My skin never dries under the paper raincoat, And she says, "Well at least when its wet it can’t cut you" but she doesn’t know She doesn’t know that I would love to bleed
Some colour in the
grey, some ice cream sandwiches and peanut butter
~Michael
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You are the circus, I am the freak. [link]
thankyou for the watch
--
i am currently accepting applications for a boyfriend. no body likes a cold bed......
and thankyou for the request btw
means alot to me!
ill get it printed for you and give it to you just like that...ordering it from here is going to cost you a fortune!
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i am currently accepting applications for a boyfriend. no body likes a cold bed......
--
Miserable creatures, thrown for a moment on the surface of this little pile of mud, is it decreed that one half of the flock should be the persecutor of the other? Is it for you, mankind, to pronounce on what is good and what is evil?
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Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.
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...look up... flowers litter the sky...but we look down...where the raindrop splatters...and we forget the spaces...the silent spaces
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
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