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 Dec 2015
GaryFairy
so bare and weathered
with senses dead like leather
the depth has been measured
we're not here together

you were my only pleasure
life was as light as a feather
for worse or for better?
that pledge is dead forever
 Dec 2015
ryn
.
•i've depleted my font,
my creative well•for each
day passed, with a story to tell
•staining white and barren land-
scapes•by sculpting my words into
myriad shapes•from factory fumes to
a wedding ring•an ominous tombstone
to a flash of lightning•an hourglass to track
elapsing time•the untold story behind a loved

                   nursery rhyme•            |  
                   with this i conc-             |  
                lude my 30 day run          o  
•it's been quite a stretch but
all in good fun•rest assured that
more will come when the time is
right•for now i'll turn off my
bedside lamp and bid
you all a goodnight•

.
Concrete Poem 30 of 30

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 Dec 2015
brandon nagley
Some may sayest
I'm what they
Calleth, a conspiracy
Theorist.

Verily I sayest
I'm what I calleth
A conspiracy
Realist;



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry
 Nov 2015
Jake muler
Plant a seed and watch it grow. Plant a seed in warmth or snow.
But I hate the cold!
 Nov 2015
rose14195
I thought you where a puzzle
With a missing piece

But you where always just the  piece
That i was missing
 Nov 2015
Jake muler
Roads are more a mess today, construction everywhere, the world's gone and got itself in a big **** hurry.
 Nov 2015
WickedHope
...
When you touch me, does it burn?
. . .
He used to say my touch burnt him.

I never really new what that meant.                                                  

                                                   That was before I set the world on fire.
                                                   That was before I set life ablaze.

The   oxygen   was   s w a l l o w e d   up.
Nothing   was   left   to   breathe   but   black   s m o k e.

        The   ash   c l u n g   to   my   hair   and   c l o u d e d   my   eyes.
                   Flames   w r a p p e d   around   my   wrists.              
                   Flames   licked   up   my   thighs,   over   my   hips.  

My creations claimed me as their own.
And made me as had I made them.
Guys, my titles are getting worse. Again.
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
- - -
And this is crap. Whoops.
 Nov 2015
Poetic T
They stared down upon high, glancing in
Trepidation at what was slowly ebbing
Forward, not a snail of a pace but slowing
To that of a sloth, mundane consequences
Where the topic of the day.

What would two of undue taste relish in these
moments of flickering thoughts on what waited
Edging forward to an unseen fate but in their
Gawking  at what was time counting down to a
Conclusion that was abiding its momentary time.

"I do hate this moment,

"What moment begrudges you at the crossroads,

"Its just watching it slop off into prominent areas,

"Never regress what will undoubtedly happen,

"But my taste buds ponder the relishing aroma of what awaits,

They as would be voyeurs of this collapse of will,
Heeding their pace of what is happening. And upon
Sullen branches they pincer upon gladly. Dead longer
Than their birth, but granting views of otherwise,
Winged visions from high above.

"Just a little nick, to ebb away spirit,

"Yes let us bleed upon the ground,

"Really??

"Why thoughts peruse me of this endeavour, and consequences,

"What ramifications would be birthed from actions?
"Nothing but a time indulged must quicker on us,

Fleeting droplets would adhere to the winds gestures,
"Carnivorous undertakers would inhale and smile,

"Do you understand what I imply on your thoughts,

"Yes undue wanting's of our lingering dinner,
"Unjust would this be upon our delicate waiting,

So they gathered upon a the caked ground, speaking
Side by side as their dinner slowly moved on, contemplating
That ever closer moment when breath would leave and
waiting would be done. But night fell and so curled up
Did their feast stop still upon cooling ground shivering.

"Should I degrees  that we wait no longer,
"Its stopped moving, just a nibble is all one wants,

"Thoughts contemplate this endeavour as rumbling is heard,
"Not of the wind or ground but my stomachs hunger aches,

So one approached wings flapping silently in the desert air,
A gust catches as claws capture the ground and stills himself.
"Whoops,
The other shakes his head at his friends near flight into nights
Abyss only to edge ever closer to their midnight feast.
He gently grabs fingers and squeezes pressure ever so lightly.
Momentary pleasure is interrupted by a sudden shift.

"O my god it just chipped my beak,

"You impetus fool I told you to heed the voice below,

Just then, without due warning an arm flared in all
Directions as if life had breathed anew and feathers
Leap in joyous freedom into the clinging air.
Noises of man and bird filled the twilights moon.  
Then as hands gripped tightly upon a beaconing
Throat preoccupying breath talons played with
Subtle tones of skin. opening them up to the waiting
Floor below and it drank so very well,

"I...,
"Think,
"I've,
"Woooo,

And with that a head now being where it shouldn't be.
That which had crawled also a last breath did escape.
As a river of life ran past my claws soaking the earth
In its need for substance. The night was still and death
Had spoken angered torment.

"Well I have never had a friend for dinner,
"Don't give me those dead eyes, ok ill eat them,

And on this night the vulture who gathered around
A meal only dreamt off in this barren place. He'd had
Invited a friend for a chat before dinner, never thinking
That his companion would be the starter before the
Main course. light graced the  morning and he was full.

"Now that was a meal, a friend would want to be part of.
"Sorry I didn't mean it like that,
"But you know what you both taste like chicken?

"Funny think is I don't know what a chicken was?

So he waved goodbye to a meal well had,
"Bye my friend or what's left,
But unbeknown to him, the air was seeded in the
Night crisp air of deaths whispers and others who
Knew that taking of fallen prey was at hand.
He sensed breath and behind coming fast was a
Hungry pack. He flapped his wings knowing flight
Beats feet, but wings pounding upon airs grace.
And still he ran upon soiled earth, to much had he
Gorged upon friend and foe, now filled him so.

"I do so hate the circle of life sometimes,

And with that thought did jaws close tight and
The circle of life greeted this fat bird, as the one
That growled found this bird to be like Christmas
It had once heard this word. a bird stuffed three,
This Ferrell pawed one had just had the best bird
Nature could have given. It howled upon the sky
At the delight of its friends, what a feast they did eat.
 Nov 2015
Poetic T
Red balloons* litter the floor,
Out numbering the pure ones before,
What once was *white
now
Discoloured
Violated
Shrouded
Float from view
Each a moment of life
As the balloons once white
Now no more,
For all is stained red
Crimson,
Droplets,
Dried
Upon white like a tear,
It slides down marking
Before greeting the floor,
Expelled air, ruptured by the
Violence,
Anger,
Death
Still lingers, an after image
Of the life that was here before,
Red balloons float leaving their imprint
Splatter effect upon floor & wall
Cold eyes stare seeing both
White
&
Red
Balloons
Clinging around this fallen life,
Where white once was now all
That floats is the stench of death
Red balloons huddle around,
Each carrying a moment with them
When life became death &
White was scarred by crimson,
Life is static, still, for death  now floats above the floor
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