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equitube Dec 2018
wait until next year
Adult oriented poem
Ottar  Jan 2014
Ice in his Veins
Ottar Jan 2014
Walking in the morning fog,
icy patches, watch those missteps,
the mist it hovers, street lights
get glowing eyes, squinting, sizing
up their appetite, as you are devoured
going forward.

Then out of the soup that tastes like
every asthmatics worst nighmare,
comes a howl and a growl,
we will call him greybeard, and
it was weird how a grown man,
growled and howled while he
sat on frozen wood, at five fifty-six AM
and growled and howled at the
glowing eye above him as there was
no moon.

He never saw us as we moved past,
picking up the pace we moved fast,
he must have ice in his veins,
ice on the road, and sidewalk,
veins of light and in his body,
must have been the hand sanitizer,
coursing through his veins,
having a howling goodtime,
with the cold empties lined up behind.


DWE012014
Özcan Sh Aug 2018
Was that a dream
Or a nighmare ?

I saw her in a classroom
She was hot like fire
Her eyes calling me
What is that desire?

I came closer
It was getting warmer
What is that heat ?
Is it gonna killing me ?

She open her hand
I open my heart
I want to branch my hand with hers
But she pulls her hand away

She say don´t try it
Your love for  me
Is going to stop your heartbeat

She was the fire
When I get closer to her
Her flames will **** me.
A friend inspired me to write this poem
raquel Jan 2019
i loved her
but i lost her
i lost her to this rope
i lost her to this nighmare
i lost her to this demon
i lost her to this devil
i lost her
i lost her to M̴̦͎̱̥̓̋̀̂ō̵͓͇͕̥̯̺̾n̴̯̓̄͂ik̴̡̛̰̪̔͌ȃ̶̮̪͆
forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever.
Helen Jul 2015
Nightmare creatures don't just live inside our dreams, where they like to feed upon our silent screams.
Nightmare creatures don't just feed upon our silent screams, they continue to form teams, to float boats on the streams of our tears. They waft gently upon our fears and slake their desire upon the funeral pyre of our fantasies. Then break us down with fallacies that families are ecstasy when only should we feel pity. Nightmare creatures that inhabit our dreams scream ecstasy when we deny family but only in a dream, it seems, our nighmare creatures can only get the best of us when we choose to stage a scene.
The Broken Poet Jun 2015
You hug him one last time
You hug her one last time
Bye Mommy
Bye Daddy
Bye Lover
Bye friend or cousin
Until I see you
Try not to get blown up
You pretend to laugh
It is your worse nighmare thinking he or she won't come back
That the devil took their life before the Angels could save them
You get one last hug and kiss
You scream farewell
But on the inside, oh my darling
You are breaking down
You are drowning
Many nightmares running through your mind
Your lips said farewell
But your heart said "Don't Go"
Why did you let them slip on by?
You know it in your heart that that might of been the last goodbye
But you let go anyways
Even if your fingers wanted to latch on
You pray for a safe return
But you know God has plans for them
Ones we will never understand
You look above and see that our former country men are now
Guarding the gates of Heaven.
Azrapse  Nov 2017
Toxic dreams
Azrapse Nov 2017
Visions of my past
replayed so vivid
  I used to purposely lack sleep
so I can immerse myself
Into the world so livid
Learned how to
Lucid dream
Making anything possible
all it took was a thought
like magic it appeared
but just cause it shined
didnt mean it was  gold
I couldn’t control my mind
It took its own route
I used to be so optimistic
Till I spent countless days in my own mind
Now every time I bounce back to reality
Im pessimistic
Nothing can compare
to the world Ive seen
in my own mind
That thought sprout a seed
now every dream I dream
this flower of doom continues to bloom
And everytime I sleep
These toxic dreams keep haunting me
all my struggles
fears and demons seemlessly intertwined
into my escape from reality
no more fantasies
welcome to planet nighmare
365 days a year
Let me know what you think
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2018
ask me the part where marxism doesn't make more sense than darwinism, or when marxism ≠ darwinism... in england? ≠ = a train network, you ******* mcmuffin! the whole point of a "social" darwinism is that, unlike marx's "effort": we're anti-socially biased, competing... but that's not the point... what's with the desire for rekindling a community equivalent to having a village to grit root? extracting an individual from the horde is one thing, but having to craft a horde from an individual abstractrum ego, is another! add to that the whole pronoun "affair" and you have, what some poets claim: wasn't journalism the shitpile some preferred a j.r.r. tolkien to become? the presuposition of self, hyphen, well, with that, what's there to be collectivist about? what's there to actually gain from working? a ******* poststage stamp collection? there's no point to adhere to a cohesion that lacks an adhesive argument... bust-stop or bus-stop? i'm at the stage of faking a demand to watch the olympics... you know the one lesson poles were taught in school? cheating in a school ergonomic is one thing... cheating in a reality of owning the uniform of responsibility is another.*

most people has conceive
both "fat shaming" -
   without a fat - philia -
as most can gag out
a cat walk with an anorexic
model...
                doctors can
be manhndled socially as
autistic...
       while the rest of us...
hide...
              and to have made
an appearance,
  to have gratified
   human existence via cameo...
this...
             an ideologue?
             a charging bull...
if red's it's honing device?
                  this juggling act
of norma-marxism without
a normy-darwinism?
when, did it ever occur
to not compare Marx with Darwin?
when was colonel gaddafi
  the one:
                 with a mortgage
but not a burial rite?
a maxim, but no epitaph?
   i guess, compared to Marx,
Darwin *******
  the proclivity of looking
at an ape...
       unlike Marx:
    condensing it to a poor man...
but sure...
            you can have
Crimean "revision"...
   you *******
              ... wait... what tree did
we climb off?
        you call them what,
pine chimps and birch gutans?
i said: come what may,
an African phallus will
   become a mongol ***** **** will;
imagine having to be
drunk in order to say it,
without being savvy...
    just, plain, dumb, Bristol... aware;
but **** me did i enjoy
                                    it.

     oh i am responsible...
for the notion that there's a void,
that needs to be occupied
  by mere thought,
      or finger cracking akin
to the sound
of deep frying chicken...
                   fizzes,
    and fizzes,
        and then becomes a
                        Mormon nighmare...
finger, *******, licking, good.
     o.k. o.k.: sizzles...
           pouts bubbles
   but certainly doesn't fry...

   church hostile gorillas that climbed
off an oak!

     makes sense...
         but darwin is the antithesis
of marx, whether you like it,
                                            or not.

— The End —