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De
Gennem fedtede ruder
skyernes nuancer skifter

De er kommet indenfor
Ind under dynen

Der er ingen originaler
De viser os kun kopierne

Skærmen flimrer
vi nærmer os det sorte hul
Happiness be like the flower of my heart
Knowledge comes in soul
Suprised to see in the world.
The problem of the world to fight
Suddenly to scared in life comes strength
Feet be with hope has freedom.
If life is the poison
**** is the antidote
I feel it flowing through my body
Cut it open like a cannibal
Gut it with my finger
Grind the pound of flesh
Sew it back up
Take it to the head
Ever feel like you don't exist
feelings of neglect makes me ******
Everyone interact and have their fun
while I sit alone and have none
-UnderDog
He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
oh delicious jealousy,
it tastes sour and
black like plaque.
A silkworm made my purse so fine,
yet a tiny fly has ruined my wine.
To taste the sugar on your lips,
to float on the mist that is in your breath,
to be the sparkle in your eye,
to cherish me always until I die.
The cutter will cut in a cutters world,
the hurt won't stop in a life unfurled,
the blood will drip like drops of rain
eaten alive by sorrow and pain
you will feast on smiles and greed
but Ill just cut and watch it bleed
Once upon a time,
In a almost perfect world.
There was a girl.
She was happy.
She laughed and played
And smiled all day, with a lovable smile
And her sparkling eyes.
One day, i checked behind that cheerful smile,
That sat so sweetly, among her rosy cheeks.
It was real.
She was happy.
Then she entered reality.
         PLOT TWIST
Alice was no longer in wonderland.
Wonderland to reality.
Crazy insanity.
She kept her head down.
And forced her smile.
Soft, frightened whispers escaped her
Blood red lips as she spoke.
Dark, Dull Madness
Her genuine laugh lightened,
The sparkle in her eyes
Washed out
And was replaced
With pain and darkness.
She WAS happy.
Once upon a time.
first poem posted
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