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DracoTalpus Dec 2015
What rumble grumbles thundering
     beneath another boiling sky,
Which warns me, scorns me,
     distant thorns flee: flashing light from clouds, and I…

Am harkening – darkening towers,
     ivory-cast and sunlit spires lie!
Still distant, though these
     trees are bending, rending, raising arms up high.

Green fingers flailing, leaves travailing,
     one warm-gust, and the blues go grey;

Then silence…
And the wind dies:

Calm

I can feel you coming.

I can taste your spray.

There’s nothing better
     than a thunderstorm;
I love them, and especially
     the way your tempest touches,
And the way your thunder talks to me.


©14Sep10 @DracoTalpus
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Fucking tired Nov 2015
In the land of silk
goods traded hands-
cotton, ivory, wool, gold, and silver -
down one stretch of land

a down side to this trade
that led to much disarray
was the bandits and disease
that also traveled this way
Homework
Joshua Adam Jul 2015
Now engulfed by silence, with my thoughts must I contend
trying to avoid the abyss, a state of loneliness to descend
being in touch with my feelings, I have become confined
thinking to escape, despite being directionless and blind

The days bring disappointments, with weeks fleeting hope
feeling you're at that point of no return, you just can't cope
yet, happy memories break that spell, in time wounds heal
constantly keeping yourself occupied, thinking you can deal

Regain your emotional stability, and recognize this very power
healing starts from within, so don't retreat from your ivory tower
the human mind has an endless light, where happiness is found
leading you toward a deeper understanding, this life is profound

Don't drown in the waters of silence, your mind brings you there
it creates images of fear, trapping you, your subconscious snare
find a friend in whom you can trust, and share your pain and fear
you'll then unburden your heart, knowing that someone does care

At times silence can be beneficial, when kept under your control
but if it causes your mind to become delusional, it will take a toll
silence breeds independence, so you can make it work for you
it resides in a world of its own; you don't have to be a who's who

So take advantage of this internal silence, a catalyst to achieve
exile yourself to its sanctuary, in its power you've got to believe
light is mere reflection, it is silence which you will ultimately see
it alone will enable you to find happiness, your true spiritual key
Sometimes silence can be deafening. Sometimes silence can be music to soothe the mind. It is the key that unlocks many doors. This is a short poem that seeks to make a little noise in the minds of those who feel that they are trapped in silence.
Liam C Calhoun Jul 2015
I'd wanted to see the moon again –
Pockmarked and ivory, entering and
Innuendo, like crisp leaves under foot;
“Crunch, crunch, crunch,” and so went
The cereal before sog. Parallel, the same
Suffering’s smeared come my bones
Under foot, under cloud and ‘ever as I’d
wander empty if even with you. You've
Turned back and continue to study,
“Away.”

I'd wanted to see the moon again -
Come the scent of fried wantons and
Neon glance; “Crackle, crackle,
Crackle,” like hot dogs over fires, only
Hindered, the hiss of a boy’s tears atop
Flame, so long as I'd understand empty,
If only with you. But your two’s atop
His lips, a smear upon the line we call,
“Horizon,” and so continues, this study
Of, “away.”

And I'd never see the moon again – So
Silence became the sun, a blight, a
Bright, the, “shiny,” I'd wish banned;
Like the eerie, like the day dad’d packed
His bags or day he'd finally died; If only
To accept this solitude, miasma
Subtracted you, with everything else,
But emptied you. An impasse atop
Endeared eidetic, as I’ll try and I’ll
Recall and I’ll fail, this test to finally
Forget.

So I’d rest with an, “F,” he’d rest in
An urn and you’d rest, simply rest, at the
Top of your class, without fault, and a
Graduate, your study of, “away.”
A Watoot May 2015
Pre
City noise drowned by my ears.
Rays of sunlight passed through leaves.
As cool breeze blew my hair,
I realize, I really wasn't there.


Peri
Inoculation started with titanium tips;
I looked elsewhere and thought real deep.
Anesthesia sunk down in my cheeks.
My face feel numb with swollen lips.

I think my mind wandered far enough,
Little me saying "Hey, I'm tough."
But my tongue tasted blood and rust.
But hey, I still do give my trust.


Post*
Continuously, he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
While bringing it back, after taking the ivory.
The familiar scent of isopropyl filled the air.
He gave me a specimen of the ivory that I once took care.
My mind wandered off in the middle of my surgery. ouch
Hey , come here baby
Let me touch you over there
Oh , my !
Your so cold
Let me warm you up
With some gentle care

Let me strip
Off your wrapper
Let me lick you there
Uum , you sure
Taste so good
When your stripped down bare

Oh , my !
Your melting so fast
My hands are getting wet
But don't worry baby
A couple of tiny licks
And one giant slurp
And you'll begin to quake

Oh , my popsicle on a stick
Your sugar tastes so sweet
Your doubled barreled
Swing lock action
Has got me come complete
Kevis Seymore Mar 2015
I hear the drums in the distance,
Hills carry the hollow sound,
With fatal persistence,
In it's embrace I drowned,
Beating at my soul,

And this is what it said,
Death is for the living,
Life is for the dead,
These words, unforgiving,
Did fill me with dread,

To the ivory lands did I flee,
For from the watcher I ran,
'Till their city I came to see,
At it's heart I did meet a man,
He told me to hear his word,

And this is what he said,
Death is for the living,
Life is for the dead,
These words, unforgiving,
Did fill me with dread,

To the people I went,
Seeking to refute this revelation,
On this sole task was I bent,
From the ivory men was a declaration,
It bore truths I could not bear,

And this is what they said,
Death is for the living,
Life is for the dead.
Alan S Bailey Mar 2015
Windy torrents of water and thunders echo
against a silent brown house,
It's large grey doors open, shrill voices sing,
chandeliers burn...
more sounds are heard outside, like a hailing.
chandeliers burning the ceiling...
statue wax ivory figures melt, burning in their
passion, melting turned violet red they have become
hopeful, promises of painless joys, power over
wars, famine, disease and all things of darkness
are whispered in hushed sincerity and prayers
but still vague and opaque.
Even now a banging of hail, leaves upon a pane
all the doors blow open now
and with a shriek all of wind in the drops are
scattered drenching, so even the mid morning rain
can still drip earth upon the clear white figures
revealing their true origin
rendered **** by what once made them.
Gabriella Jan 2015
As my hands touch the ivory keys
of my beloved piano, the excitement,
and creativity begin to flow within me.
Each key played in tempo, not one note
missed.

The echo of each note played,
resounds throughout the whole house.
Making a gloomy spirit, rise and rejoice.
Feet begin to move, and claps are heard
now.

As I continue playing the classical
piece, my body sways with the beat.
My nimble fingers running up and down
the keyboard move so fast they can’t be
seen.

Like day turns into night, my song
comes to an end. The clapping,
and the moving feet come to a  My fingers relax and I stand and take a
bow.
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