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You move me.

my poetry’s incoherent, inaudible, and an abundance of technical jibberish

by me

The words, the words trickled up from my throat
chitchaty insects careful not to misquote
declaring out loud what I’d previously wrote
The words, the words trickled up from my throat

The words, the words escaped from my mouth
dripping with moisture after the drought
like a companionless intentional crane flying south
The words, the words escaped from my mouth

The words, the words dismounted my lips
while you blandly humored my legs, my hips
“I love”s and “you don’t”s, weeps and drips
The words, the words dismounted my lips

The words, the words seeped on from my chin
alleging of ache, of sadness, of sin
the possibilities and places they’d never been
The words, the words seeped on from my chin

The words, the words drizzled down my breasts
nothing at all like the sappy love song suggests
suffering, fervor, and sentimental protests
The words, the words drizzled down my breasts

The words, the words; ignored they expire
us was abandoned and it’s all I require
I just want to be heard, it’s all I desire- but
The words, the words; ignored they expire.

The Words

© Cassie Dixon

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by Sleigh Bells

So this is it then?
You’re here to win friend
Click click saddle up see you on the moon then
And all alone friend
Pick up their phones then
Ring ring call them up
Tell them about the new trends

Have a heart, have a heart, have a heart
Sixteen six six six like a heart attack
We form a tarot pack
And I’m aware of that
But we could fist fight drunk like the parent trap

Keep thinking about every straight face yes
Wonder what your boyfriend thinks about your braces
We never blink see
And you can see me
We fell asleep in the middle of the fury

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by me

Beastly child, you’re less adored
small, deformed, homely, abhorred
Teeth like a broken window pane
It’s ok, child, you need not explain
It’s fine child, don’t mind a great deal
You’ll never have much appeal
Your ears are big, your bones are brittle
Your gangling toes are far too little
Learn to love your imperfections
After all, it’s just perception
You’ll never be a beauty queen,
prince charming or something in between
You’ll never be a shimmering jewel
It’s a shame child, life can be so cruel
Oh, but child wipe away your tears
Not everything is as it appears
You’re not horrid, spoiled, or awfully hateful
It’s ok, child, you should be grateful!

© Cassie Dixon

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by Conrad Aiken

There are roses to kiss: and mouths to kiss;
And the sharp-pained shadow of death.
I remember a rain-drop on my cheek, —
A wind like a fragrant breath . . .
And the star I laugh on tilts through heaven;
And the heavens are dark and steep . . .
I will forget these things once more
In the silence of sleep.

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by A. W. E. O’Shaughnessy

We are the music-makers.
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world forever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world’s great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire’s glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song’s measure
Can trample a kingdom down.

We in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And o’erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world’s worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.

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By me

These little girls that rise from corn fields bold & busting at the
seams with hazy expectations unreceptive to the lives &
movements of those growing & dying before them.
Sallys, Emmys, & Maryanns they think they know it all, they
do. Proclamations of youth too ripe to pick but much too
mouthwatering to pass by. Tomorrow’s another day  & another
day of bursting skulls and spoiled greens.

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In Sweetness and Love is 160 pages of absolutely stunning Kodachrome photographs taken in the mid 1950s to 1960s by my great-grandparents John and Mabel Moore accompanied by poignant quotes, lyrics, and excerpts.

They spent as much time traveling as they did at home and locations captured include Wyoming, California, New Mexico, Hawaii, New York, Guam, Arizona, and the Philippines.

My sincerest gratitude to them for their diligence in documenting their later years and thus providing me with such a vivid glimpse into the beautifully small but significant intricacies of their wonderful lives 60 years later.

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by Sylvia Plath

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)”

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by Manchester Orchestra

When my dad died the worms ate out both his eyes.
His soul flew right up in the sky and I cried myself to sleep.

My mother lies alone on her back at night,
Adding up hours till her demise, she counts herself to sleep.

When my sister finds my body closed up like the blinds,
I tell her I promise its fine, but she cries herself to sleep.

The men in black ties arrive at the house in surprise.
To find a little girl by your side in the wood box where you’re sleeping.

I still see you inside of this God-awful house
You move awfully quiet now
And I still feel you everywhere
You told me this has always been worth living,
But what’s really worth living anymore?

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[Monday July 25, 05 2:13am]

“what are you thinking?”

I’m thinking I love the smell of rain and I love it blowing through the house.I’m thinking you and I couldn’t be more wrong for each other.I’m thinking I’m never completely happy (except the first few months you really loved me).and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m thinking I’ve never felt such a feeling of meaningless non-existence.I’m thinking I miss so many people, so many presences in my life.but I don’t know who.I’m thinking I gravitate towards misery.I’m thinking I’m stupid for caring about the little things.I’m thinking you don’t understand me and you never will.I’mthinking and fearing I’ve become an apathetic shell of who I used to be.I’m thinking I need something more.I’m thinking It’s impossible to tell the difference between comfort, need, and love.I’m thinking you don’t touch me as much as you used to.I’m thinking you’ve ultimately stopped caring.I’m thinking you’re falling out of love with me.I’m thinking life was never supposed to be this way.I’m thinking you doubt me.I’m thinking your face looks to be so sad and tired in the moonlight.I’m thinking I’m so lonely most of the time.I’m thinking we ignore each other most of the time.I’m thinking life seems so two-dimensional at this moment.I’m thinking I really have nowhere else to go.I’m thinking I’ve become that person.I’m thinking alot lately about God, a god, another plane of existence, another dimension, an afterlife, everyone we ever loved – now gone.I’m thinking I could die at this very moment and every question I’ve ever really had could be answered.I’m thinking my bones are aching and you look exhausted.I’m thinking you have dark circles under your eyes and I’m covered in cuts and bruises. I’m thinking everything’s always for looks, for appearances, I’m thinking rain always brings out the doubts and hopelessness in me – but I wouldn’t give it up for anything else in the world.I’m thinking everyone’s moving forward and I’m standing still.I’m wondering how much I really smile these days when it doesn’t mean anything.I’m thinking I still remember seeing you for the first time.I’m thinking I’d never felt that many butterflies before.I’m thinking I remember your nervousness, your charm, the fact that you couldn’t stop squirming in my car.I’m thinking I can still remember every single moment that night almost 6 years ago.I’m wondering how much I really love you, if at all.and I’m thinking I feel lost if I don’t.I’m thinking how amazing it would be if I could actually say these things, because after all this time I’ve become self-conscience about being naked in front of you.

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