Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jon Tobias May 2014
Today I wanted to buy the copyright to the process of hallelujah
******* in joy the same way whales eat krill
You just bottle it up inside your lungs until you have enough

Inside my fridge I have vacuum sealed jars of hallelujah
There’s nothing religious about that
Jars labeled things like
Loss of virginity
Rob lived this time
The homework is complete

Hallelujah

It’s the same way prayer works
Backwards
Pulling bits of god like an inhale

I want to hyperventilate on your hallelujah
Like a gospel choir on speed

It collects
Over time
For instance
It was maybe a month in to sleeping at Delia’s and Toffer’s house
Before I realized
I didn’t have to sleep in my car anymore
You go into the bathroom to **** and realize
Hallelujah
A jar labeled
Found a Home for now

I know science can do this
For the sake of all that is a monument to a single life
So that on your death bed, or at your funeral
Everyone there can hold a jar

Cold and warm at the same time
Vibrating in their palms
In violent joy
Like mozzletoff cocktails
They are thrown
And when they shatter there is a song
That has been collecting for years

The same word in different tonal joys

Your life

Every good moment

Hallelujah
Olivia Kent  Jun 2013
Injustice!
Olivia Kent Jun 2013
Injustice!
Posted by Olivia Kent on June 4, 2013 at 3:11pm
View Blog
Suffer not thy children,
In a waiter service world of injustice,
Nothingness in a world of tragic poverty,
In a drizzle of tears,
The children drown
Emaciated children,
Not smiling as they die,
In world of war-craft,
Dying,
A little more each day,  
Not smiling as they should,
Punished,
Living in a punitive  world of cruelty,
Where craft of war is rife,
Screams,
Imagined in heads of strangers,
Insanity,
Piercing with horror,
Ears sickened,
By violent imagery envisaged,
Emaciated child,
*** bellied,
Gaunt,
Virtually lifeless,
Dead before death,
Snatches,
Life blood vanished,
Without request!
There is no youthful exuberance on this face,
Overjoyed,
Delighted,
I don't live in this place!
Copywrite Livvi Kent 04/06/2013
I become more erudite at night.
I feel a sprite within me ignite words,
by candlelight I feel the old masters lift their quills,
place nib in ink and nib to paper.
I invite their words and imagery to suffuse me,
use me in this modern world.
Make new what once was old.

Where nib would glide I touch my screen,
watch avidly as sentences appear,
magic symbols transformed to meaning,
like runic stones of old, or bones thrown for reading.
My words by candlelight enfold and embrace me,
in the knowing language of the poets, bards and storytellers.
Tonight, I delight at my copywrite scribed by candlelight.
© JLB
11/08/2014
23:39 BST
Everyone trying to explain
                I try but can i afford to?
                  Leaving for good , in ink


Wait a minute
Is this even legal?
Money baths
Coke plates
Romance
From royalties?
Surroundings
Heroes , ******
Introscopics
All the same
Saying-*******
I love you.


                         I know what it lookslike
                       Cliches and cheap flowers
                       Conversations gone cold
                        Some of you haven't met
                         I just wanted something
                      That was meant to happen
          Everything pure gets ****** in
The end
Solitaire Archer Jan 2010
The Question

It happened again..a throw away question really these days ...
What Path is yours?
At once the rote rose in my throat ....
Witch Wiccan Solitary Electic and I stopped .. dead

Its true I am all these things and more to be sure:

I chose ...
Wicca because I am tied to the beliefs the ebb and flow rebirth and renewal
Witch because the practice makes my heart fly and soul dance every scent , stone and candle
Solitary because even though I have found so many Sisters and Brothers on my way
I have no stomach or strength for politics.
Electic..ah well here my problem lay
I love the freedom choice does bring
ButI am also a teacher...
I love the A B C's and 1 2 3's I love to do an intricate ritual from begining to end and feel the soft touch of the past as each step taken I understand that this dance has been stepped before decades past

It brings me great joy and comfort to know the dance I dance and the Names I use have been on the sweet breath of those who have gone before me.
So Tradition has a part on my Path after all ....:)
So who am I
I am Air and Earth Fire and Water
I am Past and Future
I am Mother and Babe
I am New and I am Aged beyond all Time
Come Join me in the Dance of the Circle
Teach me your Ways and I will share mine
Together we will Honour our sweet Lady with our gifts and talents
and we will know Joy in the Journey
I am
Solita Shadoewalker
These are my Words and this is my Way

@Copywrite-2006
- From Night Thoughts
Olivia Kent Aug 2013
Lady of dance so eloquent, Flamenco born from her wombs' true intent,
Castanets clatter, as tambourine rattles,
with excitement, accrued within whirls,
she prances and dances within circles, all flashing,
to reach her prince charming, was truly so dashing, her hair rolled up in a tight fitting bun,
As she swirled up to reach her finale, twas said,
she was here no longer, she was truly dead,
she deceased many years, hence past,
For every so often her vengeance she cast,
Prince so vain, found another sweet lover,
left her alone with her pain,
left her mark on the spot,
where her true love stopped,
Gave her no attention,
well too little to mention,
took her life with such a harsh knot,
when the moon is bright, on one sorrowful night,
She'd appear to dance for the crowds,
The watchers looked on, not terrified, by the sight of the tragic flamenco bride!
Copywrite, Olivia Kent 24/03/2013.
Joe Mole, Marnhull Danny
1974

His eyes were luminous steel blue, alive
with twinkling shards of mischievous fun.
His face, a weathered map of his long life:
brown and crumpled, carved by clean air and sun.
A grubby khaki flat-cap, jauntily askew,
bedraggled grey-green ancient jacket
secured with hairy binder-twine (calves too),
brown dungarees, muddy boots and thumb-stick.
His gruesome work was in grazing meadows
under attack from an invasion beneath
of unwelcome little furry fellows
destined to perish between steel-sprung teeth.
Tiny corpses hung in a row (job done)
on barbed wire like Joe met at Verdun.

A Danny was the name given to any man from the village of Marnhull in Dorset. The word was in common use locally during the 1970’s but is now rarely heard.


14 lines
(FBRSO)
Copywrite: Craig Andrew White,Author, July 2011.
Chase The Moment Jan 2022
A room full of possibility

Hopes and dreams
my heart light as a feather

Rainbow cacophonies of my soul  

But the colors only dance in my Dreams,
for my heart feels dark and laden with stone

Like a photograph,
so remiss of light

As I yearn with my whole self
and somehow… more

Picturing your sweet face ,
the warmth of your being

Yet here in the harsh light of truth
the door remains closed

Too hard to bare the empty promises
the ache I bare in my heart

I could fill an ocean with the tears
I have cried, begging for you

My heart yearns to lull you to sleep

To gaze into your perfect eyes

Mother and baby connected before
Being

The door lurks in the background

Does the door unlock, all my Dreams?

Or maybe…

It’s just .. another … room

Copywrite 2022
Kelly
All Rights Reserved
How many hearts will die tonight
from the hurt you threw around
don't you care for others pain,
in the darkness which cannot see ...

Our fire consumed for a while
it evaded our hearts and made us smile
now tears well up, because I just don't know
friendship is vacant for me, I cry ...

Dear old man, i heard your stories
more than once, tell me, yes tell me
why you make me cry, your lies are building
you are hate, you wrote yourself to death for a while...

Because nothing ever goes as planned
your cold hard heart that incurs the indignity
of everyone that knows, how you are letting go
your life, and love, for nothing but greed and no smile ...

Debbie Brooks 2014 @copywrite..
this is for those that throw friendship away
Lilith Avenue  Oct 2014
Carbon
Lilith Avenue Oct 2014
let me be original

let me show the world what i am made of.
I was told living
was all about not becoming
some print out that came out
of the copy machine
but some limited adittion
with a copywrite stamp
on the backside.

my brain is not some archetype
for you to fill the spaces of.
i'm not some idea bank you can
go to and pick out of when you're feeling
ų̠̈̔ n͍̈̇͜ i̘̺̐̅ n̗̜̽̓ s̼̜͠͠ p͎̱͂͆ ĭ̼̠̋ ȓ̺͕̕ e̢͙͐̎ d͎̯̀͐
i do not crave for fads but indivduality
that you destroy within the hours of release;
not even letting the *** simmer before
you douse it in flames.
my innovation nothing but a trend
no one knows the origins of.

i am not some carbon copy
so stop making me into one

— The End —