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Harry Roberts Jul 2017
Discordant notes crescendo and Harmonise at the point of ******.

The music of gods, exquisite to ones ears. Yet quite maddening for their minds.

Discordant notes crescendo and Harmonise at the point of ******.

How this phenomenon occurs is a mystery. All things that oppose each other converge at the point of Life.

Discordant notes crescendo and Harmonise at the point of ******
Short, free written poem.
Harry Roberts Jul 2017
Oceans could boil at my whim,
Fish could wish to walk instead of swim.
Angels could fall if fall they would,
And demons ascend if rise they could.

Restless spirits can rest if rest is wanted.
Freed from earth and those they haunted.

Kiss of fire,
Heightened desire.
Smouldering to my core,
Power untamed and power raw.

Illuminating darkness with my will
Soothing tides till tides stand still.

Goddess caged,
Truly enraged.
Loosening bonds which bind reality,
Watch as humans reduce to brutality.

Then to the Mother they turn to again,
Return to the Earths womb and be reborn again.
Part 2 of WGS. Hope you enjoy, notes and feedback welcome.
Harry Roberts Jul 2017
Call me when you can hear me,
Visit when you can see,
Touch me when you can feel me,
Inhale and you can scent me but
Come to me when less petrified.

You've held me and dropped me,
Cold on the ground used up.

*** toy, Doll!

I wanted to be so much more.
Bit on the side, the other "woman!"

But I wanted to be so much more. Cold, used up, on the floor again reduced to be your faithful *****?

Call me when you comprehend my words,
Lay with me when you can finally see me,
You can touch me all over when you feel me,
Become intoxicated when you finally smell me,
Like Galatea I come to life in your arms, don't leave me petrified.
Notes and critiques welcome. Was apart of my "Memoirs of a Gay Teen" series but didn't fit.
Harry Roberts Jul 2017
After school
We'd go to yours,
Cuddle up in bed,
Breathless from head.

Bathed in your scent
& warmed to my core.
But guilt and shame battle within,
I suppose in you it came to win.

We'd smoke **** kickback
& roll around in the sheets,
Wash away sweat from each other's bodies in the shower.

But back at school you'd ignore me,
You'd laugh when your friends cornered me and called me ***.

You'd avoid eye contact while sending sweet texts,
I guess all was cool, my name on your phone book reads Harriet.

When I bumped into you at lunch, my food ended up on the floor, in the bathroom I fell to the floor locked the door and let tears pour.

Back at yours, on the same streets we've lived on for years.
"Old friends" I guess I should ignore,
Your treatment of me doesn't change.

Why can't I shake you,
Lost in fantasy,
The possibility of us.
The thought that you might love me.

We'd burn one down but this time you took my virginity,
The agony washed away by pleasure, still lost in my fantasy.

But you rolled off me,
Face contorted with disgust,
You'd barely gone cold inside me before you returned to being cold with me.
Kind of graphic, angsty, frustrated and hurt. Channeled from a younger time. Critiques and note welcome.
PRR2 will be released shortly, it all really comes from story modified for poetry.
Harry Roberts Jul 2017
Kiss of Fire,
Breath of Blizzards,
You slither in slime with the rest of the Lizards.

Body of Earth,
Yet Waters Heart.
Sturdy and Malleable in equal parts.

I could call wind to topple your empire,
Raise Great Fires to the heat of my Desire.

Let the Seas flood
& the Earth swallow.
Let the lies keep you warm,
When to Hell they follow.
Going to add a series of similar poems.
Harry Roberts Jul 2017
Give me your love, life and liberties.
Give me golden awards and jewels.
You gave me your heart and on it I suffocated.
So give what's left, and I will work with it.

Empty place cold, still with lost echos.
I'd love to live and feel the rush,
Blood in my cheeks and feel the blush.
Breathe in my lungs and feel the crush.

But emptiness ensues.
So give me Life, Love And Liberty
Give me golden awards and iridescent jewels.
Give me anything to fill the void you left when you cheated.
Give me hope that it's truly me you dream about.
Clunky and free-written, critiques and notes welcome.
Harry Roberts Jul 2017
Remember Little Red,
Cloak coiled.
Cocooned, Little Dread.

Confined in space - no room to change - no air to breath.

So Little Dead remains the same,
Caged in cloth she remains tame,
Teeth taste her lips blood, she remembers the taste.

Little Lead-Heart wasn't born with a Dead Heart.

But the Cage, and Age as Time birthed Rage
Created Death, where once Lived Little Red.
If there was a route in this Labyrinth,
Little Red would find the Thread.
Back on here, been away for a while ( i forgot my password.) Hope you enjoy, notes and critiques welcome.
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