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 Nov 2016 Mike Hack
Rapunzoll
i like angry poetry
the kind that churns
in your gut,
with razors for teeth
and gums bleeding.
i like the violent sound
of verbs clashing
on a decaying page,
like the shot of a gun
on a quiet day.
i like the poetry that stays,
that lies in waiting
like a dog in a cage,
words that creep like
voided birds into the
wired tress of my brain,
that pay their rent
like drunken travelers
and trash the place.
i like angry poetry
the kind that sears it's
screams to my lips,
which spirit echoes and
moans for eager,
****** eyes.
words that hit like *****,
giving their reader
a killer hangover.
i like angry poetry,
the kind that leave you
with a smoky exit.
© copyright
 Nov 2016 Mike Hack
Rapunzoll
my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.
© copyright

NOTE: i've noticed people sharing this to other sites without having spoken to me about it beforehand, I do not give permission for this and all poems are copyright, keep this in mind.

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my mother never actually said this to me, but i figure i'll probably end up saying it one day if i have children.

it's pessimistic yes, but i know there are exceptions. please don't take to heart. it's more a criticism of myself than all poets. :)
 Nov 2016 Mike Hack
Rapunzoll
she slides her slender
white fingers down the
branches of his spine

her eyes melted like
glaciers and lips as soft
as freshly fallen snow

skin lustful, but heart
unforgiving, exhaling
his every intention

she is autumn in his
palms, her trees bare,
the leaves rust fallen

flashing indifference,
thoughts plucked in
shades of violent rose
© copyright
Tonight,
the moon looks like the cheshire cat's grin
and we wonder what it is like
to be someone else.

Head full of fantasies
of places we'll never see
and dreams of universes
we don't belong to.

The moon grins down,
like it knows something I don't
and I gaze back accusingly.
 Nov 2016 Mike Hack
AnnSura Moon
12am
Alone
it's times like these
I wish
I was silently
wrapped around
you. . .
 Nov 2016 Mike Hack
Day
ring ring
heart racing
can't be too eager
(wait)*
1 Mississippi
2 Mississippi
"Hey you"
 Nov 2016 Mike Hack
koreen
to the girl who takes words out of people's minds
who speaks in metaphors, touches thousands of hearts
to the girl who aches for her prince to find
her poetry where it bled in the sea of rose quartz

to the girl who lived for two decades today
to the one who loves to the moon, back and around
the one who sits at the back of the cafe
writing for people whom she surrounds

happiest birthday my dear mermaid of poetry
you've been staying strong for twenty years now
it takes time to be the great person you want to be
you just have to keep your head unbowed

and things may be hard, may be tougher than this
and deadlines will keep trying to break you down
when the time comes you think you won't ever experience bliss
remember you're a mermaid, you can never drown

you've already been living for 7,300 days
eighty season changes in mermaid's time
you have survived all that crazy life chase
i think, my darling, you will be fine.
to my koala/mermaid/poetry goddess, madge,
happy birthday to you! stay strong okay :) this sem will be over soon and you will have your well deserved break. You are a fighter, you can get pass through this. I will always be cheering you on. I love you jm, a lot. Enjoy your special day ♥
With each passing week the world gets heavier.
Knees start to buckle underneath all the pressure.
Lost in crazy thoughts of death and self-destruction.
Only here out of a sense of guilt and obligation
to my family.
Because they deserve to be happy,
and they deserve better.
And the last time I tried I couldn't pull the ******* trigger.
Coward.
I can't allow myself to leave my parents mourning
and so I sit and wait while the sand keeps on pouring.
I'm just turning pages until I finish the last chapter of this story.
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