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g clair
Poetry 2007-2015
Claire Elizabeth
I'm Claire. Over 123k views and counting. "Please do not hurt me, love, I think I've had enough pain to last the rest of my ...

Poems

Jordan Bryson May 2016
fire-fire,
lair-lair
can't see
where this heat ends
or where it originally begins
following fashion
but giving up on trends
art is a concept
and there is nothing left of my personality to defend
strictly forbidden
the rules i tend to bend
you impress my heart
i am your friend
howard brace Feb 2012
Topsy and Turvy, hassled and harried
jostled among a jungle of jumble,
so busy they beavered, in search of a bauble
upon all the shelves, so deftly they delved,
... within the lair of the piffling frippary.

They ambled and rambled, so giddy they gambolled
and sought for that trivial trinket or trifle,
they rummaged and rifled, their eagerness stifled,
through struggle, they strived, from nine until five,
... within the lair of the piffling frippary.

Staunch but stressed, their zest so hard pressed
for until discovered, found and recovered,
they muttered and spluttered, and audibly uttered
within the lair of the piffling frippary,
... persuing that piece of paltry frivolity.

Now flagging, they floundered, not finding the foible
in shambles they rambled, revealing reluctance,
and ceding, conceding, they threw in the towel
on trembling, tottering knees they now tumbled,
... out of the lair, of the piffling frippary.

...   ...   ...
Anne Jul 2018
Muffled crack and melancholic air
Atop broken tiles beneath the tree
Rooted a vile mistress and my shattered lair
My lair repelled against me

Within layers, and layers of momentous skies
Two silhouettes scoffed with frowns
Liquid crystals pestered from my eyes
Their gleam mirrored the broken ground

A silken dress ran aback by the dark of night
Primus and Situla observed me shadowed me like light
I cried my pearly eyes, I loved and loved in vain
The melancholic wind, I swallowed he gave to me, was fain

A child! the mistress cried
Scurry and leave her behind!
My lair had planted his sinful seed
Within the mistress's womb, indeed
She intent to say to me, the Mademoiselle
Though the lair implored to never tell

My sweet, honey heart he broke
For many, many a year we haven't spoke
My lair coerced love on the mistress, they tell
Though he never stopped thinking of me, the Mademoiselle
Just wrote this yesterday