Poetry Blog by Alita Moore

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Dead Dreams

Solid I sleep,
By the side of the bed,
And arms wrapped around the child.

Red things create morning gleaning,
And my heart reminds me that I'm alive,
As will be.

The jovial middle years,
And the fantasia across a crowded aisle,
Or the people you'd meet along the way.

With hollow baskets,
And the skin of an orange,
The citrus tree stands still behind me.

Though each night a bit further,
And the free will of the...

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Upheavel through shards of glass,
Splintering chips in toes and finger,
The rotting puddle of your misgivings.

For sure this tonic did do little,
At night and the ice melts on warm beds,
By the side of shriveled skin and body.

Old and festering the rocks fall in shutters,
And the creases in your jackets make a name,
That you seldom think of.

The cold grin of inner disdain,
Or the steps of man to the sco...

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I read of peace,
Solitude be gone,
And tonights grand dinner is for all welcome.

I hear of the eagle's embrace,
And the fallacy of goodbye,
And you see the water's thinning.

I feel the need to speak in tolm,
Green walls formed from times past,
And gibberish fallen in fevered chants of what may.

Does a turtle's beak creak in dismay,
Does the ocean's tide become shaken,
I know of two things.

I don't care to spe...

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It's all the same

in fictional stance,
besides the cold shoulder,
we feel alone with reasons to be alive.

To hear another shout,
in corridors,
or the freedom to be one's self aside from mountains.

Ice forms into sharp pedals,
and may be melted for water,
this hand of cards must be played just right to see another night.

We don't care to wonder,
about the shape on laminated paper,
or that which buil...

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You see a drowning man,
And do nothing to save them,
With your prayers and book in hand.

You sing a tune,
Against the rythme,
In hopes that god will hear you.

But god is the singular care of man,
To man,
And the death of what ails them.

Because I step about,
By the edge of jagged shadows,
I used to wish that someone heard me.

Now I know,
That your color is bright,
And deaf the blind could not hear you.

Not for s...

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winter fell cold

When stepping to the tune,
Sideways gone wild,
Stop to think of the consequences.

The things that are soon to come,
Hold hands with the dead and dying,
And feel warmth within veins of solitude.

The scars that will remain cannot be so simply sold,
And the fear that will stay,
Never forgotten.

I see a bleak future for myself and those like me,
In the eyes of dead men that feel exclusive,
Or that the right to d...

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Spoken in the Corridor

This which dissents madness,
and is arrogant in fro,
sits with legs twisted against cold iron.

It's the standing beats,
and echos in my ears,
and I wish I could just not care.

He sits and deters the thing within,
and is alone in decatoured reflection,
yet I wish I did not feel so fucking trapped in my own skin.

I feel a need to be something,
greater than perhaps needed,
and I wish...

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Narcissistic America (opinion piece)

A possible way to stop the narcissistic ideological pandemic in america is to educate children on narcissistic patterns. Narcissism is at the core of most great tragedies in history (e.g. Hitler), and the famed individuals in our nation are frequently narcissistic personalities (e.g. Donald Trump). The media is a sponge for what get attention and so they peddle the the misinformed ideological mine...

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pestilence and fire,
grief and the things alike,
that which parasites feed on.

parasitic relations,
which taint our sanity,
is the bread of butter of this great nation.

the taughted evangelical,
the fascist saint,
and god's free land.

but yet this thing that stands,
falls because of selfishness,
and you think a war will fix that?

your hearts are black,
and the tar seeps from thin veins,
nothing but true concern...

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Stolen Cold Daydreams

In the summer day,
this breeze among the weeds,
and I know of the fathomed ideas.

That which takes your heart,
and makes it physical,
but so deep the mind is real.

The seaweed and the things,
that end the turmoil,
seem so pleasing during my afternoon.

I guess it's to be said,
when you find your soul in walls of steel,
that the harmony ends.

The thing that slinks in the backend,

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this within,
and the seashell is hollow,
digging another day gone by.


and the sands of time,
which must be held in place,
or swept to the sea at night.

when you find yourself in the ditch of ruins,
in the mistakes unmistakably not your own,
the walls creep down and inward.

you may lay down the fight,
or give in to flight,
and leave the dunes behind.

but there in the sand is your shadow,

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obsolete rhetoric

Contrast behind the words of faith,

The egalitarian eccentric being,

And didn’t the walls fall inward.


The second of the fathomed wraking to the shore,

And I know no more,

Besides the boots on my shoelace.


A soliloquy of the undermined,

And the things that ruminate within mine,

Slithering fingers beneath the blanket of yesterday.


Yet there is another way t...

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I see the world alike,
With just my breathing.

I guess I'm scared to see the light,
Because I rejected my very being,
People want me dead for sure.

Yet they can't see,
No I guess they choose not to,
That death is just a way of thinking.

You are invited,
To the wedding of my feelings.

Where I may sing along,
Without your shackles,
And without the endless dre...

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so tense,
my body aches of processions.

I guess that it ends,
the same way,

I am consumed by fear,
and anguish.

But when the falls become light,
and the water rises from the depth,
when the salt gets thick enough,
this thing in my eyes becomes the end of life itself.

cold hearted,
and freezing in the water,
but I guess that's just the way it goes and I the...

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it's a two and fro,
the seconds pass,
and the morning bridges burn to ashes.

yet people stand,
I stand,
the ways in the water way that flow down my path.

And this thing in your hands,
which lays about in deadly slumber,
and is second nature to the time-bomb.

It's another way that the world does shatter,
as it crumbles,
and left alone.

But gashes form in the hearts of galor,

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rubber hands

i want to be nothing that exists in this world,
Jusr sit and twirl,
The danky fingers.

Some would see it,
Not I,
No I'm still afraid.

Writing in a diary,
It all feels the same,
One bloody day to day rambling.

Of the things which are the same,
In the rough and shallow carpet,
I just bought another flower.

But when the pen hits the page,
And I'm left to wonder why,
Why do I fee...

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holland bells

Good night,
Blue rover,
And the songs of delight.

By the gashed mellows,
And melons,
That I frolic about.

For the holland songs,
Bells that go ringing,
And homes that are desolate and bare.

Strange people and feelings,
The damned don't come near,
Friends are my shadows.

Flowers and bloom,
I guess the sand marshes,
And the blue in the moon!

Yet the father I see sins,
With ...

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Had a shrinking man,
In the oven as a child,
First time sideways.

But it doesn't hold the truth,
When the grave screams to your heart,
And forgotten things that crawl under my skin.

Jumping and wheezing it steps forward,
Back and the second gallops of a weirdly shaped horse,
But the heels hold the ground with sniper precision.

Your first memory is of the baby in crib,
And can't you...

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painful breathing

Waves that wash aboard the shore,
And the gauntlets that keep on burning,
ig euss this world is hell.

You step forward into the muddy puddle,
And reminded of those that love you,
But this turn about a dime is so greedy.

Vicious dogs I guess alike,
Where the ignorant did not hear me.

But I know along this path,
Forlonged this world has burned me.

I guess the hollow things inside,

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im tired

What the hell does it do,
When the ghastly abirigerant sat by,
The strange things that might just wait for me to die.

Voxel is a deception thats governed by you and I,
But little more than tinder that writhes,
Forgotten in time that goes by.

I must say, though
When I take another breath,
I take it through my nose.

Because there's not much to do when the ships part from you,
Into th...

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straight lines

Your eyes in the Saturday,

Which came and went,

I guess there is a Tuesday.


But then again,

The ends meet your perceptions,

And the things bloom.


It was weird to be afraid,

Of the afternoon delight,

But we stand hand in hand.


You can’t know how to feel,

As a matter of fact I feel afraid,

But this day will last forever.


I guess it’s just witho...

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Repettitive Behavior

It’s just in the edge of the blade that blood is drained,

And I feel it in my veins,

The raising of the temperature in my brain.


Yet the sand sticks between my toes,

And my hands often feel numb,

Toes that tingle and lay muttering that I’m afraid.


How do you say hello to the blank wall,

And the screams of yesterday,

Although it didn’t quite bleed that way.



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after image sky

Why do we feel without the stands,
The fevers that remind us of our death,
Those in gashed and oppulant soil.

Yell for me,
This grand apprehensive fantasy,
And for those that may be alone.

You know,
There stands another mountain,
Yet again in the mirror of the periphery.

Can't say I didnt want it,
Growing up in the slums,
Happened much with me.

But forget the idle chit chat,

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reflections of hell

Mounds of grass which weighs a nation,

And the candles lit at dinner time,

Feasting on the lanky bread.


Yet the fire goes down without a spark,

Governed by dead bodies,

And without light.


The reverend does see,

Just through the magnified image in wine,

A picture of god's divine.


The gallows wait in wonder,

And I sometimes question if the symbols become ...

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not yet

It's by the end of a long journey that we see the bend in earth,
Where the water meets the sand,
And the false prophets fall from cliffs.

I want to spread a word of triumph,
But war ends swiftly in the neat calm heart,
Its will unable to stand much taller.

Speaking to you,
In this brisk afternoon mist,
There is no true solace in life after death.

Venom in my blood which stays there,

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we, the living

It's sad and its sweet,

Bitter sweet,

I mean.



This angle of pleasure,

Besides a moon,

Of once day.


Yet the palisades break down,

With winter's ending grace,

The dark walls must fall.


It's strange to remember,

Before on lighter days.

I was more afraid.


But yet these things we call life,

And the dead inside the living,

Surely holding...

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The Cavalry



And something in between.


I guess you could say a small sail,

This way beneath the highlands,

But it’s never the end upon great merits.


Yet the steps in snow hold value besides me,

And the weight of the wind presses on thee,

But the things still stand between reverence.


It’s to be seen in a similar light,

That which makes one free,


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don't ask

more and more,
steps through the ringer,
and the bell signals days end.

the water in puddles beneath warm glasses,
tired this night by lamps,
heat spreads to touch your skin.

the steps of brick and morter,
held hand of the clay man,
who washes dirty hands at night.

a hard days work,
but another day gone by,
I guess we step each time a little closer.

It's weird how things go aro...

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The willowing trees bend against the star-lit night,
And the wretched fires that burn so bright,
Illuminate the impossible peaks of mountains.

I step through snow with cold feet,
And I feel the very air,
The moisture that erodes from the frozen bark on tree-front.

It's well and good to speak in mellancholic ramblings,
Howling to the oppulant moon,
And dismissing obligation.

To requi...

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Sit in the Wind

I felt in brief the air,
In this which fills my lungs,
Crick, crack, and drip beneath my heavy sin.

Hollowed eyes,
Falling men,
Forget it ever happened.

But there remains,
That something between you and I,
Outlined by the light of my hand.

I cannot speak but blind,
And hustled family this way,
Ghasps hold me just above my sunday at night.

Birthday cakes and birthday sighs,

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making a Rainbow

It tastes of lemon grape,
The fastened light against the car windshield,
And pleather which lies against the sun.

It's blue in the water,
The black thing that moves,
And the echoes that creep down spines.

Gashes in the soil,
Which heal in lightened moons,
I don't follow at all.

Yet this gallant and dream,
Sinks to the floor of mean things,
And doesn't have the hook to tend the lan...

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Again Another Day

Standing in the shadow of the valley,
My stomach hurts very much,
And the walls of the sky come closing in.

I find people's words hypocritical,
I can't quite grasp it,
wishing I stock agains the boards.

The mud sinks deep to my shoulders,
My mouth and eyes alike,
It tastes of dead mothers ashes.

In the unclear paths of the valley floor,
There must be one for me to follow,
Before t...

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My Shadow

She held in her hand,
a child,
which did not often speak.

The time ticks,
and the people live,
and the child holds her breath.

Dare not release the wind,
Just above the mountain's peak,
where the walls fall into short oceans.

Holding cold hand,
Asking for little else,
I evaded my very being.

The cat sits in the dumpster and feeds,
She looks over to your eyes,
and says 'I am t...

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Bright Lights

I used to stand in line,
Before the highbar,
My hands white with chalk.

The air sat shallow,
Warm and grim,
And I'd look to my side.

A door,
Just one step away,
Held half open.

The sun was bright,
Because the gym so dim,
And I would think what if.

What if I just took a step outside,
And I didn't walk back,
Just without warning I'd left.

But I never did,
I thought my coach...

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Yea yea,

The table did turn,

In and out.


I guess you'd probably smile,

A stupid fucking grin,

But I'm not angry.


I guess I know the future,

Or it were in the bends,

The water rising.


The things that upset me,

Are the dumb ideas,

A reflected image on the side of the eye.


I guess that it comes,

Sweet and fragrant,

And I certainly don't ca...

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The cold wind slinks into the corner,
I guess there's a storm tonight,
Rocking of a gentle boat just in sight.

But the view from here is one of grandeur,
To assume that you're seen before the ether,
A reflection through the pigmented soil?

Feces stir in swins that linger,
That sit and look around for what more,
Just lay down.

It all ends in slaughter,
But I know this,
I know that ...

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You're my Guest!

I got too comfortable,
Don't forget you're just a guest,
Take all that you care to!

Ghostly by night,
In the now crack of dawn,
The light glistens on the side of my pantry.

But didn't you see!?
This place known to little,
A weird and strange place.

It's hollow (I'm sure),
But the meaningless did wander,
And I feel nauseous at times.

But when the mountain sides goes rockin,

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My feelings are difficult

Don't you see now?
Just south of the border,
the rains coming in from the east today.

I wish as well,
that the west held more flowers,
and the places I walk didn't stick my boots deep.

The weird thing to remember,
and the falacy abroad,
is that all those in color blend in.

But you didn't watch,
when the paint ran down my shoulder,
and it bled into my very skin.

The very thin ai...

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in wakes of the wave

I feel very much in a boat without a paddle,

It’s the strange sounds of ice cream,

I wish they sang through the misty air as well.


Women about me,

And through me,

It’s all the same in the end.


But you really simply cannot be sure,

To the shade of grass,

Before winter’s end.


I wonder,

As I often do,

The places that ice does go without seeing.



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I want to say something new,

It’s like I knew it from long ago,

And the cold shoulder weighs my side right.


It’s unusual,

I suppose when you find yourself lost in thought,

To see more than what is in glimpses of peripheral.


The times go by,

And clocks sound round,

The world around me closes in.


This used to make me scared,

I suppose there is that too,


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What if I'm not,
The places we could've gone.

Creations stand with crooked hands,
Besides the worn out leather,
I have to wonder what if.

Should I dare let that dream escape me?
I wish it were so easy,
But sometimes the steps fall short.

I care to climb,
I don't care to die,
Zellas and empty besides my creation.

I guess,
Seconds before arrival,
I'd simply sit and star...

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I wish there were the teals,

Among the waves,

The sorrow of hands now open to avail.


The ghastly horror,

Movies and books alike,

Dead skin makes clumps in the gutter.


It's hollow,

A point to be made,

Heatwaves send shivers down your spine.



And forgotten,

A glass jar in the pantry.


It's si...

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paint and brush

Most authentic,

Besides graces,

People don't see it.


I guess it's to be expected,

It's unheard of,

I suppose.


But it's true besides the graceless wonder,

That the best miss eyes of masses,

Humility in wonder.


Sometimes I dream,

I often don't,

But the feathers fall all the same.


Between grated fingers,

I mean,

It's as I wish.



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I sometimes sit and wonder,
What of the thing in mind and body,
That shackles the very thought.

I didn't wish to step beyond the grave,
But the light seeps through the tinted windows,
Now opaque and frayed.

It's an aside,
The dew on a monday evening,
And it's something beholdent to thy brother's arm.

And yesterday.

It makes no difference in the end,
And I know...

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I wasn’t allowed to breath,

Or to the take that step,

Or to see what is beneath a covered grave.


What do you wish,

When the others can do it all,

To be allowed to suffer?


I guess there’s nothing more for me,

I have been held to a higher standard,

Endlessly repeating.


Recursively I roll in bed,

And sometimes I sit and cry,

But the reality is that I ha...

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You didn't notice

Didn't it come true?
Exactly what you wanted,
Desolate and afraid.

The greatest grains,
And men to be alone,
Side by side.

You wanted them to fall in line,
Like the dominoes,
Your play thing.

A sick and demented vicarious form of living,
Some may say parasitic,
But you know differently.

It was your only way to be,
To live and to see the world through twisted lenses,
You got your wish...

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Is it worth it?

To wither besides the road,

And climb into the walls again?


Like a rat,

The world sees down upon you,

And speaks to the great descent.


Fathered in delinquent,

Yet you forget the aforementioned shore,

Did the rain really build that for you?


As if the swim was worth the wade,

Wading about in the open waters,

Sinking beneath a sea of del...

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Melancholy, short story (written a long time ago)

In the same way that I’m trapped, I am also free. However, why must I be in-between? It is quite a dizzy state, one that would make even the most resilient sick.
“Dusk is upon us, would you like anything to drink?” My voice clearly drowsy, tired, nauseous.
“No.” Cold, he seems lost. Perhaps in the very maze that is his mind, winding one way to another, unrelenting terror around every...

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An Explanation

I’ve had moments where I cry,

When writing just a couple words,

I really don’t know why.


Yet there does remain,

Beneath the skin,

A reason.


I probably can’t control it,

Not after so many times,

Strolling around the block : I felt empty all the time.


You know,

There’s not much to be said,

Yet it holds so much meaning.


I remember of the time on...

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Untapped Potential

I thought myself once capable,

I fear that’ll be how I’m found,



The competent held down,

By the nature of birth,

A shameful misunderstanding.


I once sat it chair and dreamed,

Just like you,

Of how I was meant for greater hours.


Yet when the hand ticks by,

The motions remain small,

And my eyes go blind.


I wonder just how much longer ...

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