Pen-Spilled Emotions

By JC

As my pen spills an emotion I don’t know if I’m physically
Able to verbalize the words that are written on my heart
They are caught because I don’t want to release them
With ill intentions, but knowing the truth sometimes hurts
And knowing what these words may cause, I seek the best way
To say them without causing division or discomfort hoping
You’ll understand at times the right words can’t be found
Or said so I rather show you through my action
If all fails I’m left to let my pen continue to spill my
Emotions that are written on my heart…

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End of the Road

By TG

3:30 in the morning
not a soul in sight.
The prisons like a ghost town
when the guards turn off the lights.

Teardrops only tattoos
there’s no crying for my sins.
I’m heading back to somewhere
I said I’ll never go again.
end of the road
end of the road

End of the road
like the end of life
you feel yourself
grow cold the
more days go by
and you say goodbye
to all you know
and so you part
end of the road.

You don’t feel like a man
when they tell you to strip down.
Open your mouth
bend over
squat, cough
and turn around.
Jumpsuit and a bedroll
and a number for your name
white, black, rich, or poor
you are treated all the same.
end of the road
end of the road

End of the road
like the end of life
you feel yourself
grow cold the
more days go by
and you say goodbye
to all you know
and so you part
end of the road.

You never really adjusted
and it shows deep in your eyes.
Doing things you’re ashamed of
just to make sure you survive.
And just like winter storms
the rain can turn to snow
and the lightning flashes
could save lives
for those at the end of the road.…

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Platforms

By JK

Platforms and I’m not talking about the shoes,
I’m writing about the people speaking who don’t have a clue

Platforms that were built on my L4 and L5,
giving me chronic back pain from all the verbal jive

Let’s expand on this privilege, the subject at hand,
this platform of yours where you make your grandstand

So absorbed in your spot that you place others in the dark,
never even a thought to appreciate their written art

What is an effort if not the effort to simply write,
judgmental of creativity where comes your insight

In the sixteen-hundreds, the rave was the selling of slaves,
all carried out on high from the platforms that was raised

A jumble of words is all that we saw,
yet 3/5ths of a man was written constitutional law

Words are intentions behind inventions
so next time you’re on that platform…

before I was
and after I am……

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Untitled

By VB

I came from nothing
or so they claim.
But something from nothing
is outrageous.
You need
at least
a lil’ bit
to make
anything.
I’m here to stay,
forever I’ll remain
a Free Mind,
Open Heart.
My actions
you won’t dictate.…

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Dogfriend

By MH

I never spoke two words to you
Yet you love me
I didn’t have to ask, however
You gave me my name
Even the place you live called home
I’m able to live just the same
I’m even cool that you always dominate our exchange
I have to feed off of you
When you’re happy, I’m ecstatic
When you’re angry, I’m mad
When you’re down, I can’t help but feel sad
I move off of you and obey your commands
One-way communication since I can’t speak
But all your words I understand
Could you ask for a better friend?…

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Isolation

By AS

Trapped inside your own mind,
no human contact takes a toll in time.
Have seen many lose their mind;
but to some only the strong survive

It affects many differently,
but all mentally and physically.
It’s not a place for a human being;
either animals have time to roam.
Being caged in like endangered species is not for any

I witness this isolation;
I live in this isolation;
Taking one day at a time
while occupying your time is the mentality of many.

As one focus on life they grow in time and
with every hardship comes ease and in the
end one will free his mind

Peace

AS wrote this while in solitary confinement.

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What I Wanna Be When I Grow Up Part 1

By DR

When I enter pre-school I remember, all the rules
ABCs and 123 sleep time but while the teacher reads
Itsy Bitsy Spider, for me
When the rain of home the next day the sun dries me
Seems like the only cap and gown I seen
Watching my life on this widescreen
The household struggles took away my dream
Moved from the projects, what did it cost me?
A school of learning, I was a bumblebee
But the family grew, needed more room
Didn’t know welfare was everybody’s dreams
To the second stage, if my theme getting beat up became an outside thing
So I couldn’t focus on being a king
I went to neighbor to neighbor to learn different things
Looking at God’s nature, the stray things I knew since I was the only
I hear owls (sing) that I have to keep seeing things
That’s not what I wanted to be when I grew up
Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever grow up
I still pray every day to what I wanna be when I grow up
But just in case I don’t show up
He bless (his children) to play
Be safe and grow up
(No matter what color in your cup)
Or what’s your family luck
Just say, your prayers when you get stuck and they will show up…

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Threading the Needle Loudly

talk to the grey. argue with the yellow. all the colors have their voices. all the moments have their architects. in the sober of when. in the high of maybe. we run our razors over tomorrow’s skin and wait for the vein to open.

it’s just a bridge. a way over the terminal abyss. it’s just a path. a route from the beginning to the end. as if such markers can indicate where we are.

tell the rain it need not fall. gravity will gladly compensate. tell the sun it need not rise. one day is more than enough.

there is no epiphany in the caliber of our flesh. the light flickers. we awaken. to the tremors of our expectation. petals on the flower. succumbing to the wind. raindrops on the glass. selling the storm in discarded wishes.

like dominoes, the years tumble. inertia is all we have as the distance between us deepens.

we’re just cardboard limbs and paper hearts.

when the rain decides to fall.

we’re helpless. …

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Solve for R

Too far it seemed. Until it wasn’t. The slope of distance in the creases of my gaze. As the pavement melted under my feet. Life relenting to my pace.

the cripple of expectation gone. the simmer of want evaporating. nothing but the road to focus on.

little dolls in their stubborn dresses. counting the colors as they disappear.

Too loud. The sound of waiting. For things to change.

there was no itinerary. no destination. just the searching for somewhere to go. our voices razorblades. all our  words cut to pieces.

the euphoria of flesh. all buckles and zippers chaffing open. the hysteria of skin too swift. a furious sprint. when so many miles still lie ahead.…

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