Bloodletting 4.67/5 (3)

And they watched as he bled
Dripping into a big plaster bowl
They waited for signs of blackness
Thickness, Corruption, death in a living man
They knew it would drip from beneath his turban
And into his eyes

They knew the name of Allah would be carved deeply into him
The color of dead men
And they knew that when it had gone he would wake
A clean man

They discovered a man beneath a pool of blood
Bone and skin and lung like any other
A still man with blue lips and red blood
But not a drop of black within him

They looked in sadness at the slack face of this man
Allah’s hold had been too tight on this one
They knew this now
A shame he had died filled with the sticky darkness
Of a people capable of murder

Eyes clouded with answers
They still could not


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Tinted Blue 4.33/5 (3)

Tinted Blue

I press the pads of my fingers against the rough bricks

And a breeze kisses my cheeks

And lies against my lips

My eyes close I hadn’t worn these shoes in years

They were scuffed and the heels were worn down

From bouncing on the floor

I’d always been going somewhere then

My heels were always bouncing

There’s a yellow house below me

It has a tin roof and big windows

I wonder if they’ll see me

Through those big windows

I remember the day my mother got a call from school

I’d been gone And she hadn’t known

I wonder how many calls she’d get before

They stopped calling

Before she stopped listening

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I stroll through the streets of Nyc,
like walking down an aisle of a shopping store
admiring the old and new buildings,
like different colored cans on a shelf.

As I ride down the road,
looking on at the restless sky,
I wonder when this dream will end.
I realize.
I am already at home.
In bed.

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Is no ordinary horse.
His deep brown, almond eyes
Seem to stare into the very depths of my soul.

He knows what i am thinking
When I am happy, sad, lonely,
Or mad

Who is better than any therapist
Who gives the best hugs.
Who seems to understand
Exactly what i am saying
Even when i know he does not

“He’s just a horse” they say
I say
He is a friend.

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The game, a vine that grows inside of you
Quickly grabbing pulling you into the fun
Because that little vine becomes something big
A plant
A big plant
The game soon becomes what you love
And then you want to be one of them
A giant star on the big stage
Every kids dream
Every single one
A dream as big as a home run
Dreams that go BOOM
But it just started from a little vine like you

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Time 5/5 (3)

What is Time?
A figure?
Just a number?
Or is it something else?
We always want more or less of it
Is it a space filler like the grout between your tiles?
Or is it something else?
How is time measured?
By the beginning of the universe or how fast something moves?
In seconds or minutes?
Time is an idea wrapped in a thought
A thought to explain how things became what they are now

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