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 Apr 2017 PixieWee
Graff1980
My skin is
black and blue,
a tender bruise
that matches
my nightly muse.
Darkness
silently expands
beyond my
understanding;
So I sit
and observe
as my vision
blurs to
completely obscured,
then finds an even
darker universe.
 Apr 2017 PixieWee
Th3rd
Salt in my veins
Revolution in my heart
Letting loose the reins
Finally getting a start

Twenty four years later
After my birth
Grabbing the Mercator
******* in my girth

No longer ignoring
The calls of the shores
Set forth exploring
Opening the doors

One to a lake
Largest in the West
My option to take
And call it my best

The other a sea
Foreign as mars
Alien life to me
Whole new set of stars

This is my option
Can't be made haphazardly
Not sold at an auction
No time for jackassery

Interviews lined up
Will tell the tale
One for a backup
Should I likely fail
Rhyming is something I do, one day I may leave it behind for the artistic imagery of poetry. But til then rhyme away I will.
 Apr 2017 PixieWee
phil roberts
Dark again
Darker than
Colourless sounds
From ceiling to walls
Always
Strange doors
Like gaping mouths
Dragging tears
Cracking open
Screams of silence

A day or night
Then comes the light
At long weary last
Ended future
Useless past
Nothing holds
Narrow roads
Damaged junction
There's a time
Comes the light
Follow the light

                          By Phil Roberts
 Apr 2017 PixieWee
nivek
Having sisters and brothers
innumerable

what can a poet do?

You can keep singing poet

sing for those that cannot.
remembering those imprisoned by corrupt and evil means
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