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 Jun 2017
River
The writer's life
Consists of looming strife
For a writer's eyes are keen
To the suffering that usually goes unseen

All writers are bearers of truth
Wielding their pens like a scalpel that cuts through
All the **** we tell ourselves
That keeps us in denial

A writer seeks truth incessantly
And eventually comes upon the somewhat ambiguous answer
That all truth originates from Love
How does the writer's analytical mind
Grapple with such a fluid concept?

The writer sees beauty in the invisible
Writes poetry on bathroom stalls
Lives life solely for stories
The writer feels things deeply but doesn't speak them,
But rather scribbles her thoughts fervently in a notebook
The words dancing on the page
As they are released from the tip of the pen
The writer knows, sadly, that even though she writes stories to make people feel less alone
That these people will never truly ever understand her and neither will
She ever be able to fully embody the experience of another human

The writer has wounds that go deeper than you could fathom
When no one was there to turn to,
She picked up a notebook instead and released the toxic emotional build-up in her head
Made art out of her sadness on the page
Through poetic words,
Elusive and enigmatic,
She could tell her story, indirectly
And still set herself free from the ******* of unspoken miseries

The writer's life is a privileged one indeed
For we see things, but don't speak them
But rather transcribe them forever in our memories
Until we find a clean sheet of paper,
And write
Write everything we've seen, heard, tasted, felt, known and intuited
Every struggle and every victory
Meticulously crafted upon the bare canvas
Like a war zone with an abundance of pent up zest
Finally unleashing itself upon the page
So, write, my fellow Writers
Write fearlessly
And our stories will prevail
They will impact even just one person
Who thought they were all alone,
Perhaps like we once felt.
 Jun 2017
Corvus
I'm the monster clawing at the walls.
You gave me the taste for your blood and then locked me in here.
Your scent stains every surface in the room;
Tantalising but with no flesh to sink my fangs into.
Rabid dog-type wildness becomes me,
Transforms me into a thing driven by madness and instinct.
You are the prey with footprints but no body.
I am the predator never knowing satiety.
Pacing replaces hunting, I'm starving,
And your constant, elusive presence has me frenzied.
Viscera begin to litter the room.
Yours or mine? I don't know. I'm starving.
Suffering from writer's block, so this is a repost.
 May 2017
beth fwoah dream
i.

sea, oh, sea,
sail that
billows,
blind breeze
of whispering
sea.

ii.

water of curls,
bright path
bird of more,
bright bird of
shore
spreading
out, wings like
cloth.

iii.

rhythm and
******, springing
vault, floods of
water scattering
like light on the
set of the sun.

iv.

sea-rose of poise,
**** of black
bubbles, sea
of storm and
might.

v.

oh, sea, river of
my blood,
drowning dark,
drumming
sound of waves
giddy, washing
the shore
as if the night
could never stay
or the clouds
could carry
the thirsty brine.
 May 2017
Pagan Paul
.
Would you like to take a look
in the covers of my little black book?
Would you like to see if you are there,
and if not, would you really care?

Would you like to scan the pages
of my lovers through the ages?
Would you seek to find your name,
and if not, should I be ashamed?

Would you like to read the index,
and see what my preference reflects?
Would you like to peek and find
the comments I write, and of what kind?

I am sorry but you will never see
the yellowed pages of my history.
It's best that what will be, will be.
My book retired when you chose me.

© Pagan Paul (24/05/17)
.
 May 2017
Crissel Famorcan
I've been searching so long for a new way of living
But The world grew darker and that's horrifying!
Telling the truth is like committng a crime
But creating lies - to them is such a beautiful rhyme!

The new face of joy is to see someone in pain,
To put that someone down and let him live in vain,
The world is now full of man's sinful deeds,
Full of evilness, caused by demon's wicked seeds.

But as one of God's chosen nation
We should not worry about those tribulations
Instead Let's abound in love,faith and hope
Coz' together with these three, we can surely cope.

For this earth comes horrible
And things gets worse each day
Yet if we live with those three elements
God won't  let us go astray.

So my fellow brethren,let's give this world some light
Fulfill our divine duties to God with all our might
Secure the brotherly love and faith to our dearest lord
Always ready to serve and follow all of His words

Judgement day is coming near and fast
So remaining steadfast in our faith is really a must
Keep your hopes high and never doubt His Word
And Trust Everything to our Almighty Lord

Life maybe harsh and unfair to humankind
But there's one thing that we should keep in mind
Even though we've experienced lots of difficult situations
God will give us his promise: the Holy City and Our Salvation!
 May 2017
phil roberts
I've had fun on your streets
Been nursed in your hospitals
City of heart and strength
I'm proud to know you
Love ya mate

                           By Phil Roberts
 May 2017
wordvango
i wished for a
four octave voice
riches fame
abilities to make my
guitar cry and sing
the words to touch
the whole world
money and a beautiful wife

traded it for my happiness
so where the **** did I end up
on the end of a rubber noose
two ativan
in a
locked hotel bathroom
you never know

what you are trading your
soul for when you deal

with the devil

better check those
wishes

very

very

carefully
 May 2017
wordvango
***
I never thought of  
of status quo

I just went
crashing
against the walls

logical had
nothing to do with me
it was for real

abstinence
of every rule
out of eyesight

I caught afire
drew the fire on
drew me amidst

a flame
and went
completely

******* mad
like Syd did
sang on

shined as
long as I could
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