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 Jan 2020
Crow
She cannot see her beauty
It’s hidden by the lies
She cannot see her luminous skin
Or the starlight in her eyes

Her incandescent smile she cannot discern
Nor glimpse heaven with autumn hair
She finds no bloom in her rose kissed lips
The mirrors scorn she cannot bear

She loathes her form, her gaze only shows
Repellent, gross, uncouth
But the Maker’s hand has glorious woman shaped
If she could only see the truth

Her splendor revealed is radiance unbound
Making others seem weak and pale
And though Elysium descried, she sightless remains
Concealed by a hideous veil

I’ll wage my war against hell’s deceit
That her vision could be set free
And one day her eyes would be opened
To the beauty she cannot see
 Jan 2020
nivek
in suits
wearing brands

naked into this world
naked to return

cowboy boots
long blond hair

all these things
and much more

clothed in fear
naked in the garden.
 Jan 2020
Satsih Verma
Cannot undo, the
headless leap of faith.
It was not the answer.

A thousand moon
I will wait for the calamity, when
you come back with empty hands.

Playing Mozart,
I discover myself in the
jungle of antlers.

The grief survives
eternally. I arrange all
the words to spell correctly,
a white death.

The black tree
stumbles on pale moon.
The angel will not
open the door.
 Dec 2019
Traveler
To and fro I travel
Yet I find no place to rest
My heart is but a shadow
Darkness with a breath

Home is but a memory
As I lay upon hard ground
And dream of ancient glories
When I was once renowned

Now I am forgotten
Demonized by lore
Cast into a hell dimension
Just beyond life's door...
Traveler Tim
I wrote this laying on a hard mattress in the joint
with 17 year held over my head. I end up doing the whole 17.
 Dec 2019
Satsih Verma
In blue dawn
pure truth will hinge on the
personal moons.

I was ready to tell
you all rumors to learn the
art of mimicry.

The air smells of the
masks. Not fakes. Skin dries
up to dew emboss prints.
 Dec 2019
Carlo C Gomez
Duck duck goose
Hangman on a noose
What's your crime
Other than stealin' time?
Picked at random
You won't get sainthood
From martyrdom
There was no four-leaf
Clover, Chuck
Which in layman's terms
Means you just
Ran out of luck...
For anyone who ever stuck their neck out for those who ultimately didn't care.
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