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 Dec 2015 J B Moore
ryn
Missed Call
 Dec 2015 J B Moore
ryn
.
                       •the   ••••••••
         old man wi-    ••••••••
    thered•as suns    ••••••••
  would set....over    ••••••••
many days•follies    ••••••••  
he committed, then    ••••••••    
unencumbered•fina-    ••••••••       
lly caught up...so now    ••••••••         
he pays • like an unca-    ••••••••         
ged bird,  he had left his    ••••••••            
perch• not looking                                              
back, leaving behi-                                                
nd hatchlings  and                                                  ­
nest• he discarded                                                    
his­  roots  when he                                                    
left them  in the lu-                                                      
rch• flew to pursue                                                      
what­  he had thoug-                                                      
ht was best•now he's                                                    ­ 
ailing thin.....he seeks                                                     
to reconcile • reached                                                   
to his sons...and left a                                                   
voice message•asking                                               
atonement for  his cri-                                             
mes so despicable and                                          
vile • for now he lays con-    ••••••••           
sumed.........by illness and    ••••••••         
rage•hours tick by as his    ••••••••       
days blur into weeks...•    ••••••••      
his frail  breaths weak-    ••••••••   
en as he succumbs in    ••••••••
  bed•finally the call    ••••••••
     did come bearing    ••••••••
           the absolution    ••••••••
                   he seeks•    ••••••••


just a minute too late,
for the old man is already
dead
Concrete Poem 21 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
.
 Dec 2015 J B Moore
Jeremy Bean
Twice as bright
half as long
great for those
who don't belong.
Who would want to
on this stage?
Plagiarized
and overplayed
Overwelcoming
its stay
Upon this
obvious
fixed game.
 Dec 2015 J B Moore
Jeremy Bean
She's very much alive
But she is dead to me
The decision wasn't mine
She wanted to be
A tombstone in my mind
A grave inside my heart
A perpetual funeral
That has no end or start
There is no wreath to set
No flowers to lay
The only place that this exists
Is buried in my wake
2 and 2 are 4.
4 and 4 are 8.

But what would happen
If the last 4 was late?

And how would it be
If one 2 was me?

Or if the first 4 was you
Divided by 2?
 Dec 2015 J B Moore
ryn
Avast!
 Dec 2015 J B Moore
ryn
.
•atop the mast billows
my wind-tossed rag•grinning skull embla-
zoned proud•the starkness of black upon my flag
•piercing the encroaching sea mist and shroud•her-
ald the sight of the jolly roger • instilling trepidation
in all who sail through my turf • fuelled by the thirst
to pillage and plunder•others before, have sunk into
graves beneath the surf•my salt encrusted timber
creaks                   a frightening low                growl•
my hull                       would pum-                     mel thro-
ugh the opposing waves•    my sails bloat full trapping
winds that howl•my       deck bears the screams
of a thousan-            d slaves•know
me, seafarers... i am no legend but
truth•avast! seafarers, i am the tale
that looms•believe me, seafarers for i
am ca-        pable         of all         things



•••                                                 ­        •••
  uncouth                                                 •fear me,
seafarers for                                            i am your
doom•you could                                 sail the seas with
the world's most                    skillful of crew•
you cannot deny the
inevitable
heavy hand of fate•be-
cause once my vessel comes
within view                             •you would
know for certain                                that it's already
•••••••                                       •••••••
•••••                                               •••••

*too late•
Concrete Poem 17 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
.
I know that I
Have failed the Lord
And for that
I'm so ashamed
And only in my troubled times
Would I call upon his name

But God said
If you'll only speak to me
When trouble your way comes
Then you can rest assured my child
I'll surely send you some

I know I need
To spend more time
Down on my knees in prayer
For he said when
You call on me
I'll surely meet you there

Lord forgive me
Of my past
And the wrongful things I've done
I long so
Just to make things right
Between you and your son

For I know
That we're not promised
We will see The Morning Sun
And I don't want
To leave this world
Having left some things undone

Father make me worthy
To stand and tell the world
That I'm a god believer
And I believe His Word

He's coming in an hour
That we don't even know
And our souls will be
Required of us
O be ready friend to go

Eternity last forever
and 10 million years from now
my friend you will be somewhere
so why don't you humbly bow

To the God of heaven
he's waiting now on you
just ask Him for forgiveness
that's all you have to do

Then when it said and done
and he returns someday
he'll take you home to heaven
and there forever stay
 Nov 2015 J B Moore
A. E. Housman
There pass the careless people
That call their souls their own:
Here by the road I loiter,
How idle and alone.

Ah, past the plunge of plummet,
In seas I cannot sound,
My heart and soul and senses,
World without end, are drowned.

His folly has not fellow
Beneath the blue of day
That gives to man or woman
His heart and soul away.

There flowers no balm to sain him
From east of earth to west
That's lost for everlasting
The heart out of his breast.

Here by the labouring highway
With empty hands I stroll:
Sea-deep, till doomsday morning,
Lie lost my heart and soul.
Sliding around on the endless night
Headlights surrounding bringing about light

Soaring down highways at great speeds
Not really paying attention to see where it leads

Why I am here I cannot recall
But all I remember, it was before the fall
What bliss was had! yet none at all
To skid 'cross those lanes before the fall
You see all I am focused on now is destroying that thing in my life that is destroying me

Smash its head in and break its hands
Beat its brain until it can't stand

To burn, to make it break and bleed
To deprive it of food, water, and sleep

Destroy what destroys you

Too bad that thing is me
 Nov 2015 J B Moore
alli brunell
this house;
too dark, too quiet;
an unknown abyss.
tenants leave after six months;
running out screaming.

in this house,
*even the ghosts are haunted.
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