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Nick Burns Jul 2010
I had an underwater swordfight
with a giant squid.
The only way to win
was by severing the head.

He had eyes the size of skies;
a heavyweight leviathan
with perfect purple skin
spanning 1000 mile limbs.

There was blood in the water;
it was all that you could see.
The monster that was slain
had been slain by only me.

There was blood in the water;
it was all that you could see.
There was blood in the water,
but it wasn't from me.
NBURNS 2010
Meryl Wisner  Jun 2012
grey days
Meryl Wisner Jun 2012
This weather’s got me writing poetry again

                ; because it’s making me think of you.

I like your storms
splattering raindrops and
               thunder that cracks open the sky
but I want to be with you on your grey days.
I’ll laugh with your sunshine
and swordfight your lightning,
but I want to be with you on your grey days
; when nothing much is happening—
            except your eyes are clouded over.

I can’t stop comparing you to weather
which sounds ridiculous,
except for the way your personality is like the wind
I can feel it
             I can feel it
                          I can feel it
but I never seem to be able to catch it,
or do it justice with my words.

It sounds ridiculous
except for how you’re a forecast for my day.
            When your eyes reflect
bright blue sky and fluffy cumulus clouds,
I don’t remember how to frown;
and when your storms rage
            I know to stand strong against the wind.

on your grey days
as much as I’ll want to persuade that sunshine smile
to come out to play,
I’ll sit quietly with you if you want,
and let you be nostalgic,
in that way that
                                          always makes you sad
                                     but never makes you cry.
like how mist isn’t quite rain.
Louise  Mar 2013
prost (cheers!)
Louise Mar 2013
we kiss like a swordfight,
sandpaper to silk.

tick
tock
tick
t-

the driver's side door always closes a
split second before the passenger's.

cut to the bar: enveloped in smoke and your arms,
the quiet hum of your shirt against my cheek

close my eyes and the pool table turns to noise-
the red lights become laughter, and i smile.

my back's against invisible glass,
eyes still shut, i feel your voice
sound out above my head
as i stay, tucked under
your chin and
stolen.
rework of a poem from late 2012
Shiloh  Jul 2014
Thief.
Shiloh Jul 2014
The darkest of nights couldn't hide your intentions
I can never tell how you manage my irregular heartbeat
Sounds of a swordfight let me know logic is around
yet the blue of your eyes makes the dopamine profound.

Aware of your presence when I wake even when you're not there
it was trouble that I knew I was looking for
you sing your songs about punk rock, being drunk and anarchy
and I fall that much harder with every breath you take.

For one so small, you seem so strong
weaving your web of intricate emotions
if this is something you aren't ready for
spin me back to earth, where I will always belong.

Always running from myself I never stopped and smelled the flowers
you are now responsible for the calm that surrounds
I'll never cut you slack, for wearing all black because
like a thief in broad daylight you stole my heart.
Ces  Sep 2020
Inside
Ces Sep 2020
Thoughts buzzing
like mad gnats...
My head: a battlefield
A swordfight of words
from people living
and dead.

The carnage
is contained and hidden
in this pretentious smile
a demeanor perfected
by repetition...
practice

Yet, inside
Peace gasps for air
for another moment of life
dying from a thousand wounds
from self-doubt

— The End —