The box made of
thin tree-meat walls,
closed by a
curtain door,
sealed with
hole-filled, rusted
roof, again
sinks under the
merciless river
overflow, yet
the eight hearts
it has been carrying
will remain afloat—
with warm love,
with fearless faith,
with ceaseless hope.
—
Thin but brave bones
bending but seldom
or just sometimes breaking.
With muscles built
for exercise— gripping,
typing, or clenching.
The puzzle of fingers
and palms, I thought
need not completing.
Until my right had
felt your left—
oh, this is what
complete means.
—
egg out of
your hard-outside,
fragile-inside,
self-made
shell of hate,
hardened by
society’s caging
cruel words
of unbelief.
crack the
calcium carbonate
crystal, with
each drumming of
your tired yet
unrelenting heart,
create a freeing hole
of hope. welcome
the sunrays of faith.
hatch.
—
As the battered
wheels climb thousands
more feet above
the unending sea,
my mummed heart
undresses slowly.
My nakedness
embraces the
soft mountain fabric
made by murmurs of
the wind and leaves
of the giant
green guardians of
the endless Himalayas.
I am home.
—
kick me out
of your life
yes, you can.
kick me out
of my own love,
oh, you just can’t.
i am locked,
chained, tethered,
inside the cave
of my self-sufficient
heart.
it’ll beat
with a thump,
with a thump,
with you
or without.
—
whimsygizmo.
while i try
to rein on my
stubborn and elusive
sense of worth,
the rain reigns
against the sun rays
with its freed droplets
of crystals
kissing the waiting,
parched earth.
may i find
the purpose of my
birth, with the petrichor’s
coming mirth.
—
whimsygizmo and Rein ’em in! 
lillian! (i hope i am not too late! :D)
bliss blows
blessings, breathes
so sweet mist of
joy to hearts
hurting, like
frozen buds
waiting for
warmth of
spring, coming
with the weightless
strands of
white dandelion
dancing, feel
the rhythm
of my patient
fingers, tap, tap,
tapping, bliss,
come, be
my blessing.
—
Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
the sweet tweets of the birds,
the crisp cracks of dried twigs,
the whispered whistles of the wind,
the sounds of the forest orchestra.
oh, surreal and soothing
flora and fauna.
yet they can’t calm me like
how your heartbeats’
thump,
thump,
thump
can.
—
Victoria C. Slotto.—
My debut book Between My Bleeding Lines is now available on Amazon and Createspace! Please see the following links:
Thank you! 
she got the final note
on her last day
on earth.
she went out
with a book on hand
and let the last echo
of her heart
lead her between
the mountain, the sky
where her song is heard,
where her name is whispered.
—
—
whimsygizmo
like the sky
swallowing
the sun,
i remembered
how i choked
when you said
we’re done.
like the rain’s
fading fog,
i wait as
time erase
the drizzled remains
of your once
warm love.
today
i relish
each throb,
tomorrow
i will move
forward.
—
Mish.
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