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Mad Twins

Chaos spins.
The twirl becomes these mad twins.
Both full of hate.
Both full of rage.
A lust to inflict pain.
To understand the truly insane.
A desire to destroy that which brings peace.
Desecrating the newly decease.
A morbid curiosity of what has got way out hand.
New discoveries, become like moldy stale bread.
Once good but they no longer sustain them.
A single thought pours through there bloody hands.
A conflicted motion with the flip of the wrist.
One has been silenced while the other lives.
The institution will never subdue, reform, or morally impregnate.
It suits our needs just as it does his.
With thoughts of safety as a mind game which we will never win.
Four moves behind, and it is still his turn.
And with the tic of the clock he is already ready for the next.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Beautiful Yesterday.

Beautiful yesterday
Always comes
With that fairy
Of the sugar plums.
When we are alone
Wishing for things
That are gone.
Diamond rings
Those imposters
Where sunlight once shone,
Twinkle so cheap.
Yet
It is not then
It is now we must keep.
Forever begins at dawn.
Yesterday and tomorrow
Those unreachable twins
Still wait to be born.

Yesterday the fruit

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poem by Kevin East
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Young Love

how is it possible?
i believed we were like friends,
more like twins,
when did the feeling start to flow?
never thought i see it,
but i'm here now,
what do i do?
it feels so right,
and so confortable,
how do you denie it?
mixed emotions along the way,
is it normal?
to feel so attracted to a person,
i never would of quessed of,
maybe that why,
i couldn't let you go,
and see you with somebody else,
i wanted you to myself,
was i selfish,
for not wanting to take a chance,

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poem by Mona Martinez
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Twins at birth

we may be the same in face and needs
but! i am different in value and deeds.

while you love to flaunt your looks
i love to sit and read books.

you want to be the center of the crowd.
'i just look at you and frown'

you want to show people that.you are
the better of the twin
because you are happy and carefree.
but this is not what all people see.

there are times in life that
we are alike.
but! we are both seperate individuals
with different personalities.

i believe in the goodness in life

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poem by Louis Rams
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Santhara

When honeycomb started dripping,
he stopped eating and climbed a sand dune
for the last journey.Pall-bearers were ready
for blunt futurism ceding to a deliberate defeat.

Hunger was his turbulent empire, resting
his hands on the shoulders of rocked time
for the purification of greed and spurting desires.
His only mechanical aid was his pen.

Into the half century of geckoes getting rid
of tails when a monkey was found in the stomach
of a croc.Toons themselves spread out mocking
the winter of hexagonal windows. Grey birds

started melting on the burnt-out grasses.
Lions walked on identical twins of nudes.
A wet kiss of death ensured the beautiful
ceasation. Yellow roses opened the frigid body.

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poem by Satish Verma
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Agnes and Senga

Agnes and Senga
were born entwined
back in the summer
of June 69
everyone sighed
at these twin geminis
though Agnes was quiet
and Senga just cried

Though they were twins
they soon showed different tastes
Agnes liked some foods
that Senga would waste
into their teens
they would go different ways
as Senga liked nightime
Agnes liked day

Agnes was happy

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poem by Charles M. Moore
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Lines For Lizer-Jane's Album.

No two leaves that wave in Arden,
No two grass blades on the plain,
No two flowers that gem the garden,
Show as twins in form or vein,
No two grains of desert sand
Counterpart leave Nature's hand.

So the all resourceful mother
Forms her children each unique
Meet to supplement each other
In the purpose all should seek
Thus her aim deciphered shows
None must copy, none may pose —

Hence no trodden path can guide thee;
Thou art duplicate of none;
Untried issues shall betide thee;
Options new beneath the sun
And thou can'st not copy well
Failing perfect parallel —

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poem by Joseph Furphy
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Unsure What To Think

how is it possible?
i believed we were friends,
more like twins,
when did the feelings start to flow?
never thought i see it,
but, i'm here now,
enjoying every mintue of it,
what do i do?
it feels so right and so confortable,
how can i denie the feeling?
mixed emotions along the way,
wondering if it's normal,
to feel so attracted to a person,
i never would of guessed,
maybe that why i couldn't let go,
and see them with somebody else,
i wanted them for myself,
but not sure how it will turn out,
afraid of what people might think,
well, more of family,

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poem by Mona Martinez
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On The Death Of A Twin

Where are yee now, Astrologers, that looke
For petty accidents in Heavens booke?
Two Twins, to whom one Influence gave breath,
Differ in more than Fortune, Life and Death.
While both were warme (for that was all they were
Unlesse some feeble cry sayd Life was there
By wavering change of health they seem'd to trie
Which of the two should live, for one must die.
As if one Soule, allotted to susteine
The lumpe, which afterwards was cutt in twain,
Now servde them both: whose limited restraynt
From double vertue made them both to faynt:
But when that common Soule away should flie,
Death killing one, expected both should die:
Shee hitt, and was deceivde: that other parte
Went to supply the weake survivers heart:
So Death, where shee was cruell, seemde most milde:
She aymed at two, and killde but halfe a childe.

poem by William Strode
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Soul Families

Now there are soul families
that supposedly had the same soul egg
This is what I am told from a clairvoyant.
Soul families have a lot in common
even if they never met
It goes deeper than reality
it's something you can't beget.
Just like identical twins
that develop the same
traits—
we have lived past lives
together—not all of them great.
Not all soul mates are meant to
have your special relationship—
a lot of people think soul mates are hip—
Remember on this plane we are human—
so we learned the planetary dream—
I had a soul mate one time be really mean.
Now sorry to get personal - I did digress—
very different experience in my life I do confess.

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poem by Christina Sunrise
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