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Mute that blare
Swing that low
There's no room
for the old oboe

Slide on down
Make no bones
Oh ! Mercy !
Mr. Trombone

*** on keys
Sax done deed
Clairinet nukes
that reed

Going down real
Feeeeeeel !
Jazz and coffee
So surreal
 Apr 2017 kayla morrison
Spelz
In the third eye of symmetry
Never mind the strings of beauty (words)
If the outcome is poetry

Artistry

So long as man dreams

Never mind hymns of danger
If you're moving on heroically

Such is a poets causality.

He knows not the construct of words from ordinary men. They lack structure, rhyme and purpose. They are the ramblings of those who can not see,
Those who cannot feel
And those...
Those he cannot be.
proud buck
frozen, close
heart in my
cross hairs

I squeeze
the trigger.
nothing
happens

except birdsong

as if
they know
some doe was saved
from widowhood

by a
mystic
misfire
two minute poem--two minute poem has no guidelines other than it must be written in 2 minutes or less--editing is permitted, but no words may be added after the initial 2 minutes--this one "inspired" by my walk in the freezing drizzle today
 Apr 2017 kayla morrison
Kee
you can't help but stare
and stare
and stare
until you hate everything about your face
how many freckles you have
pimples
it can only cover the scars for so long
the insecurities for so long
lips coated in thick red
eyes you coat with liner and eye shadow
face caked with foundation
baked with powder
contoured to the gods
eyebrows on fleek
you slay
sometimes you don't recognize yourself in the mirror
and it makes you happy because you can't imagine living the rest of your life looking you without make-up.
will you ever love you?
you, without the makeup?
BEFORE YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, IM NOT BASHING.
I wear make-up myself and 100% understand that some people wear because they want to and not because they're insecure about their faces. but, there are A LOT who do wear make-up bc they are insecure, and bullied, and just don't want to look like them anymore. i was like this, i kind of still am. it's hard to get over, and sometimes you can't.
.
Lear wanders in stormy open, bares warring elements,
The heavens blister, crackle, night is balmy shroud,
Wretched monarch babbles in sprinkles of wind cold,
Arguments lost by ones own pouring perturbations
And raining sky said 'nothing will come from nothing.'

Howl, howls into blackness treed in lightning splits,
His outcast soul, reels, fleshed, cut to smithereens,
Tang of salt burns on the bluffs and the sea rages,
So entire and ceremonious is Lear's fall meted out,
Air spoke, 'nothing from nothings ever yet was born.'

Sky proclaimed to man child King, here is a reckoning,                                    
Each mad choice was self infliction, now wind flays
And sweet Cordelia lies in her innocent **** grave,
Sky, in thralls of thundering asks, 'what say thee now,
King of highborn follies, even purple heaths are rags,

Yet black and above you and night shades, whine,
Unworthy King, done in by compounded effects,
The might of maelstroms in low butterflies wings,
How now, bare trees, knifing reeds, skeletal flashes,
To rains of night are ever your lanyards my lord,'

Sad Lear so near oblivion fell mute, sky went on,
'Howl and cry mad King your reaper calls beyond,
The icy brisk heavens await to brusque you away,
Your slipshod kingdom was mere and fools' dream,
Howl, til howls abrupt abate, for nothing now comes.'
King Lear is a tragedy by William Shakespeare in which the titular character descends into madness after disposing of his estate between two of his three daughters based on their flattery, bringing tragic consequences for all. Based on the legend of Leir of Britain, a mythological pre-Roman Celtic king.
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