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Rakish
Rakish
I don't quite know what I'm doing, honestly. But I thought I'd give poetry a try.
A thousand strangers go before me Their bad jokes and worse haircuts linger In my online shadow, that twenty-first century history That is etched for every one of us. The species has always been able to forget It is what keeps us alive, and subsequently kills us So why is it we can forget the past's atrocitites But not my Year 9 obsession with Japanese cartography?
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Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
Life Online-Memories
It seemed, all at once, that the world had ended. The glass had shattered, the idols had fallen, And all the world was burning. He turned to the wise old one, Tears in his eyes, And begged "Oh please "Say that it will pass, that this is not the end!" Old eyes looked back, and an old throat cackled "The end, my boy? That we'd be so lucky!"
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
The End for the Ages
Sleep is fleeting Mirror cracks Summer's stifling Smiling lacks Lovers leave you Friends forget Don't remember Just regret Milk turns sour Leaders lie Oceans burn Don't ask why.
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Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 11:09 AM UTC
Simple Stuff
Heat-starved sunshine, Fractured light, Pitch-black evening Silent night. Longcoats flapping, Christmas time All the sky turned tourmaline. So what if it's cold? Winter's wondrous.
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Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC
Tourmaline Sky
You were saintly, sweet and soft A light in the dark, hope in despair And in you I saw all I wanted We could have been happy But then the mask slipped And now you're mad. Your light was a phantom, a paper lantern Held up for my benefit alone You are twisted at the core, just like me My twice-broken heart now recoils, guilty But at least I understand- we couldn't have been happy. Wait for when the mask slips.
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Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
Mask Slips
The dispute came about quite simply, Though of course, we couldn't say so then. A clumsy stumble spilling beer, a harsh few words, toes trodden And lazy, ***** glances towards 'his girl'. The pub was warm, muggy, sweaty, And I only noticed that when he'd thrown me out the door Hands slick with sweat and cider clutching at my spas'ming throat As I choke down cold night air and try to kick. He hit very hard. I did not. He managed to keep the mud off his shirt. I did not. He stomped, and spat, and swore, and saw his rival broken before him. I learnt that drink only makes you pain-free to a point. But I contend, as I did then, as some kind soul dabbed at my blood That I held the high ground, morally, honourably. For you see, he simply got stuck in While I demanded pistols at dawn.
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Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 6:35 PM UTC
The Issue of Honour
I see you still in phantom-form I feel your arms, your lips, your bite I fumble drowsy for your shape As I did once, that sleepless night. I see you now with lovers new, I feel the guilt of jealous sin I know you chose my opposite A charming, prancing harlequin. This stupid love has sunken deep Please dissipate, so I can sleep.
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Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:46 PM UTC
Linger