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 Aug 2016
TheVals
A bullet left in the magazine
Just let me know who hurt you
As badly as you hurt me.
 Jul 2016
DG
For I was awake and still wondering if she's still into me. For the memories we cherished, you will always be missed.

Its been a while since I left, now Im over it.
 Jul 2016
Paul Hardwick
So hard to paint
on a canvas that is already white
mixed with love and tears
mixed in with mixed up words
must be the fumes
when I feel like this
I shut down my senses
and my nose bleeds
white powder paint


L        O         V        E

P@ul.
So me, so you, so us.
P   @   U    L.
 Jul 2016
Cat Fiske
We all learned,
the grass is as green as the sky is blue,
but the sunset and sunrise seems to make this untrue.

Now I ask you,
have you heard the tale of the sky?
I can tell you for I have seen it with my eyes,

one day,
there comes a time,
where each of us begin to die,

and where does your spirit flow,
into the wind,
into the skies,

like how your blood is blue until it touches the outside,
the sky is as blue,
as the blood that swims through,

when the sun begins to leave,
the sky becomes purple to grieve ,
this is where the blue and red blood interweave,

eventually the sky goes a rosey pink
and then when the sun has left in a blink,
it gets too dark to even think,

in the night it is blackened blue,
and in the morning it becomes new,
while new souls pass back and forth,

the sky you see is our life force,
transferring lost souls,
and filling the found ones with life,

the sky has many purposes,
besides holding the sun moon and stars,
the sky lives to serve us,

the sky is full of scars,
why on tragic days the sky shines beautifully,
to show us hope is not something to of forgotten,

so now you know the story of the sky,
and you will meet with it the day you die,
and the ones you love will watch you fly.
 Jun 2016
Paul Hardwick
Must stop visiting my doctor
seems to me ever time
I visit there
yet another part of me has stopped
or just rusted or something
well just broke
or fallen off
the waiting area there
scares me
I look around me there
and think
what bugs are here?

what has she got?

and then a kid coughs right in my face
I feel the fleam hit me on lip
well if I did not have before I came in
I have it now
now my skin begins to itch.

Dear Doctor why me?
100% true,
Love P@ul ***.
 Jun 2016
Paul Hardwick
You know this by what you do
look up ****
your **** is up for it
but what about your hand
I will try
I know I will get cramp
on the other hand
nope same
getting cramp again
you young people
do not now how hard it is to get old
so ******* enjoy yourself


T  O  D  A   Y>

and help me out here!

ops.
Love P@ul ***.
 Jun 2016
Paul Hardwick
Let me split the words down for your mind

Space is room
Space is the distance from there to here
Space is your room, your head
Space is what you conceive for you
Space is all you think to be true
Space is distance
Space is small
Space is no Space at all
Time is Man Given
just to explain space
and the time we spend there
who we meet
those we love
those we don't
is no time at all.
True   Love P@ul. ***.
 May 2016
Paul Hardwick
Andy's cambells can
his coke
bottles
artists
give you
dreams
there emotions
paint there for you to see
colouring your boring world
making you in moment
understand
there emotions
O
and yes a free converse.
Wink!  P@ul. ***.
 May 2016
GaryFairy
inverted purpose, a hurting version
verses for this urban exertion
first curse, the burdened dispersion
unworthy service of incursion

perverted circus, a working aversion
reversing their verbal coercion
the first thirst is the verse's assertion
immersed in an urgent excursion
I reposted this because i got a message saying that i don't write poetry. They said that poetry is all about metaphors and imagery. Well, for me it is about emotion, rhymes, and wordplay. Also, alliterations have been done over and over, but not inner alliteration. Here, i worked with the "er" sound.
 May 2016
Cat Fiske
Born into this world free,
at our starts,
we've been made equal,

as we grow like a flower from a seed,
our nature leads us to break away,
at the beauty that it holds so dearly,

and once we are free'd,
we have also handed over our self control,
as we start to journey into the unknown.

we join into our society,
create our communities,
as we are made one with the residents of our territories,

tallying up our ballots
to determine the majority,
and voice our opinions as one,

but what becomes of the controversy?
the Runner up to the majority?
and who has the right to cast the ballot?

only men,
only those of white skin,
only those of a prosperous breed.

Those whom are never controlled,
but wish to take the repelled as there property,
as the pursue of others seem to end in only their benefits,

imported men bound to nonnative men,
by those whom forgotten their own native skins,
Forgotten they also traveled across the sea,

and back as they force imported men over sea,
as shiploads roll in,
with the contents of labor bearing men,

The Fixed majority binds those of minority,
Women, Children and Imported men,
to their fateful aftermath,

Eventually as we grow,
The Majority begin to release their control.
The minority stands up to the ******* they with held.

They fight for their rights,
and they last for their life,
The nightmare more pleasant to handle.

They don't hold back their pressing manners,
They don't fall two steps back to only move forward one.
They don't back down to those out to damage them.

The compromise is far from completion.
as the lack of freedoms still create more conflicts,
thus having to re-compromise again,

Those bound to religion and other establishments,
creates the fear of change for men,
the resistance leads to hate,

Hate towards people who must judge on face value,
rather than seeing a person past their appearance.
to the point of formation of organizations to patronize these people more.

those who suffer from these acts,
are still stuck inside the past,
they can't be happy for something they barely have.

They suffer silently,
hopping their dreams will one day come true,
to be equal without the needs for laws to make you to,

To feel actual equality
without the labels they have been given from society,
to feel their birth given rights in effect.

Some who suffer say it's worthless to keep trying,
even though their moment ended with people dying,
The cause is worth the fulfillment of those who suffered back then,

And back then the rolls were set in stone,
where women couldn't hold their own,
but now we face men and women trying to change.

The rolls will stay the same,
and they will flip flop and duplicate,
where everyone gets a ballot to voice their say,

Where dreams that reach from sea to shining sea,
will one day be able to breathe and shine through,
But dreams don't shine through,

not all are free from their marginalization.
not all are free to make their accusations,
not all people are born into the rights of freedoms.

Our nation has defaulted and defamed their citizens,
unless inside an arms race, then we are free to die next to each other,
before attending a meal together,

our nation is built by those who ran away from oppression,
those whom tried to grant their families a new beginning,
those whom have now moved away from their old traditions,

we are trying to make room for the change,
we are trying to make room for our voices,
we have been trying to make room for our dreams,

but somewhere along they way,
our dreams have started to fade away,
as our pride as an american is declining at the fastest rate,

their are too many dreams trying to take place,
when we change this and change that,
we forget to change ourselves,

we forget our morals and views,
we have forgotten the golden rule,
we need to treat others like we would treat ourselves,

roll of child, women, man, aside,
difference of Skin, Hair, or even Eyes,
difference of heritage gender and age too,

what I do to you,
should be taken with meaning,
and If I can't respect you.

should you respect me?
The core of our problems have a trace,
attitude is desire for the outcome.

America is never going to stay the same,
day by day America and its people constantly change,
And there's no escape.
For my English final
 Apr 2016
Mizzy
So varied are the hues of poetic pen,
With a multitude of exploding coloured ink,
In endless shades to choose from now, and then,
To set the writing mood, in which we sink.

Should I decide upon a nature write,
I must select just one of many greens,
To paint a woodland oil, in verse tonight,
Of lush green branches shading flowered scenes.

Humorous poems are best presented yellow,
The verses to be sunny, smiling bright,
This Irish poet not e'er a dour fellow,
To try extract a laugh from you, he might.

To pen dark verse, one must use darkest black,
Printed on a page of sombre grey,
The mood is set, no chance of stepping back,
The reader with sad tears, may have to pay.

Poems to my Love, are always delicate pink,
Verse from the heart, her eye to see words beat,
Fond lines penned madly now in perfumed ink,
Extracted from rose petals, for a treat.

****** verse scribed in pulsating red,
Throbbing, bulging blood to end in balm,
My pen grows hot with every word that's said,
Eventually burns to flames within my palm.

Finally if you poets e'er grace my home,
Feel free to take a seat, and ease your pains,
Relax at my bureau and pen a poem,
For it's ink not blood that flows inside our veins !
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