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  May 2018 fagaveli
usagi
my muse is my sorrow,
if it did not exist i would not find beauty in the rain nor solace in my pain.
it'll always find different ways to manifest,
but at least it is safe to say
it is no longer my unwelcome guest.
  Apr 2018 fagaveli
Poetoftheway
reaching the back of you

not sure I could.      not sure i would.
       scent of the crime uncommitted uncovered

the meandering is the man demigod demagogue taking
time
         pleasured mercy
                                         the remaindered searchingly
                                                                ­                                 suffices

you don’t speak plain english the only tongue i got
insert the coin in your slot commencing researching the
way in and
don’t think i want to find the way out to the
back of you hiding in the inside learning the way you visualize


playing amy winehouse as an overlaying graph to the autoroute
to the south of france, sur-la-mer, why ever leave and you come
in my mouth poems new each time

no exit. no back of you.  stuck in a longingly heaven

this house is my home and I know the sun brightest
when i put my coin in the slot of play and press the
new tune button at 4:10AM
thanks for the quirky comments for this quirky poem.  Not my normal style. Inspired by a poet here who writes quirky poems, many of which, I fail too, to fully comprehend. The only way I could hope to understand them was to  "insert the coin in your slot commencing researching the way in and  don’t think i want to find the way out to the back of you, hiding in the inside learning the way you visualize...no exit. no back of you.  stuck in a longingly heaven" and getting stuck, unsure if I want to reach...
  Apr 2018 fagaveli
Izzy
She was the poet, her hands stained with ink
He was the soldier, his hands stained with blood

The gentle hands of a dreamer intertwined with the rough hands of a fighter.
  Apr 2018 fagaveli
Nickols
You are the only one who my madness doesn't touch,
and the only entity whom can touch my heart, simultaneously.

Tell me, "I love you."
Say it with conviction.

Wait for the time.
Where the nine realms collide.

A touch of insanity with a wicked kiss.
Silver-laced tongue, sharp and keen.

Did pleasure ever feel this exquisite?
Nay--
from a morals hands, calloused from tiresome battles.

Verily; with hands carved from flesh and blood.
life and death.

A hundred times over;
have I fled from a lovers touch?

A thousandth time;
did I plea for mercy.

I spit the cry out
with fire and brimstone burning my throat.

For all this chaos and despair surrounding me,
A god on his knee's begging for repentance.

What a sight to behold;
malevolent creature with a benevolent cause.

I worship you,
a man made of Iron

You are the only one who my madness doesn't touch,
and the only entity whom can touch my heart.

Fin
Frostiron anyone?
  Apr 2018 fagaveli
a maki
talk to me, willow tree
tell me of the life you lead.
does the wind cool you down
when your leaves fall to the ground,
or do you like the sense of relief?
  Apr 2018 fagaveli
欣快
can’t tell at all if these thoughts are even mine, smoothing my hair out
on the lawn while the sun kisses our skin and we lay around
Spring is getting swept away and the asphalt is as hot as you
heat circumventing every shade of skinny leaved trees
and our truant is every bit of rebellion i need to escape myself
these neon signs are open and i still want steal time with you
just like the weather did and be full to the brim of light
want to dream again if this day is one, and daydream all the stinging away
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