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Eriko  Mar 2016
Crosshair Lovers
Eriko Mar 2016
far past the settling night
once to be confused,
casting waning yellow lampshade
on the turning pages
of lovers gone astray,

far into hours of another day
streaming sunshine shifting
through clouds,
a simple touch and a phone call
which never comes,

the darkness unsettling
early morning hours
of frightening a.m's
streaks of tears glimmering,
leaving beautiful dew drops
on the lashes
where another somebody
can gently kiss
for you

one night to speak of truth
dinner for nobody but you
smooth liquor and fluttering crickets
stars glimmering, constellations crossing
like crosshairs, catching the comets
of burning love meant to fall
and burn in marvelous casts
of another wish
Bob Horton Apr 2013
He was not without sin
But his hands were clean
The only blood on his soul his own
And now he is

Old man on death row
Aging faster than the fools around him
Does he believe that there is any justice in the world?
If there is, it is not reserved for him
Dead man sits

Fifteen minutes to seven
Dead man walks
Five minutes to midnight
Dead man lies

His final quiet pleads and requests scream injustice to the people
Perhaps a thousand miles or less away
Cop killer laughs

Veritas, Aequitas
Just because it’s a Dead Language doesn’t make it meaningless

Man
Perhaps with no Thump in his chest
Perhaps confused a little
Perhaps not noticing the pure white Thump next to him
Flips switch
Nails man to the cross of corruption
And now there is a murderer in the room
Dead man sleeps

Those lungs which gave wind to such wisdom
Collapse
That heart that beat with an Iron Innocence
Slowly bleeds no more
And now Georgia is heartless
Eyes of hope that saw themselves killed
Twenty years ago
Glitter, shimmer, flow, run down
A cheek of a ****** colour
With federal crosshair tattooed upon it
Then dull

Libra, chained, looks away
Governor nods in satisfaction and corrupt pride
Broken scales lie on the floor of his office
Troy Davis is dead
The World Weeps
This Poem, Written through tears, is for everyone who stood up for Troy’s innocence, I just wish I could have done more.
1
There are more penetrating people if not the death of, as in living in this very livid moment of the unsure which is a surety.
Falsify me. Growing heavy with the absurd. To face you, me -- more mirror the blank end of a chamber, or if that you must **** me, do it at the plaza in front of my mother. That if you must lament me over the lapped up moment of some false life the invented and wrong, do it. Do it. ****** me the unassailable truth that is, I am capable to splinter this moment and that it still lives like a sprawled body spilled from the mouth in the bathroom -- it still lives: you have to be quick.

2
Once have you been startled by the form of absence as a letter slid underneath the soft and warm pocket of your mouth like it was the first time to have a naked body pointed at you, all with it trying to predict you in a sterile room, and is more shattering than an aggravated twilight.

   Who, at first thought, was there behind the trigger, and was he/she drunk with any other pretense apart from the face that he/she hates that common meeting within the day’s fine-tuned crosshair?

3
If you listen to it carefully, the music is a mosaic shifting the hypothesis into a pallor of a question back to it again with its basic agony of becoming so bent and so small on paper – which is to say, that we are, if to listen to a droning sound, becoming of it delving deep into the center, checking our own weight like our name after a fall from a high place, they said they would.

4
I have left something in Baguio that I cannot take back – a monochromatic caricature of my face shoved into a crevice waiting for a revision. What have I furthered into?
Don kingsley Sep 2016
Canvases lay in front of skilled hands
But still remain empty
Guns in hands of nervous man
Unfilled on the enemy
I heard there are seven sins
All of which remain friends to me
Nostalgia
Don't tell me what you did daddy
Tell me what you're going to do
I sit with my sick head
With an ill point of view
Crosshair on my chest
The trigger is yours to pull
Lets go to school
The world isn't ours to rule
It was ours to give
Lets go to school
The role models and teachers
Aren't getting paid enough
Always thought making potential
Fulfilled was good enough
But they aren't keeping up
Our mixed cycle is catching up
Stay in school
Behave and follow rules
A hatred fiend,
Playacting a votary
Of democracy and federalism
To a gluttonous end,
“Unless we grip
The rein of power
Driving a divisive wedge
Along religious and
Ethnic lines, also
Orchestrating terror
Every hour,
See to every evil
We shall
Till the wind of change
Blowing over the nation
Suffers reversal.”

“On the world-acclaimed
Change drive
We shall inflict
Every possible harm
So that flouted it runs
Out of charm!

Using a Facebook army
On par with Tsunami
We shall trigger
And foment conflicts
And make
This and that ethnic groups
Arch enemy.

Slaying toddlers,
Senior citizens
And women, with
The bun in the oven,
Shock we shall
Create often!”

"Also with
'We are victims' clamor
Seeking for a stalemate,
Global-pity a door
We intend to continue
A  victor.

To deflect attention
From a government-junta
Crackdown
To neighboring country’s town
Firing rockets far
Dragging it into war
We shall internationalize
The fight
Conveying our diabolic move
Is right!
Though unheard of in history
We shall splice
In unholy marriage
With any enemy
Of the country.
Also from its back
The national defense force,
Guarding the boundary
And us
Its forehead
In the crosshair mark,
Revoltingly
We shall attack!
Though this makes us
Selfish, our ethnic
Groups we shall use
As a human shield
A daunting influence
On citizens-cherishing
Government to wield."////
(What the TPlF Junta is doing.The true picture of TPLF now being vanquished )
A crackdown on a junta outperforming Satan

The TPLF Junta that is using the peace-loving Tigrian people as a human shield to carry on its evil intent of wrecking down a nation had been milking the country’s economy dry, making citizens shed red tears and perpetrating atrocities of every brand.
While it was in power for over 27 years, with crocodile tears, the Junta was playacting a vanguard of the constitution. It was claiming a votary of the supremacy of law while in reality it was trampling on the constitution in a broad daylight and displaying a mockery of justice to the dismay of citizens.
As an elixir, the junta, which has got one leg in the grave, was using divide and rule as a tactic to make people see one another as preys and predators as well as oppressors and the oppressed. In so doing, it was planting deep the seed of mistrust among people. That is why extirpating the problem has proved demanding despite the nation’s time-old chemistry.
Also TPLF had labored ceaselessly to loosen national unity.
Under the smokescreen of a make-believe federalism, states’ wealth and natural resources were siphoned hardheartedly by finger-counted despots running the Front. During its heyday this junta never gave the slightest attention to the people of Tigray, who paid a lot to the unity and sovereignty of Ethiopia. It is now making a frantic bid to click with them to save its neck. It is dinning into their ears “because of your ethnic identity you are under siege and your life is under threat.”
Acting the wrong way it had practically underplayed the price Tigrian people played for the birth of democracy fighting against Dergue.
TPLF is a lecher junta which always aims at optimizing its political benefits at any cost. Here, it suffices to raise one issue. Once it did steal drought aid extended to people of Tigray , heavily hit by famine.
As pillage is its characteristic feature this lecher junta has pressed ahead with its thievery. As PM said, to stash away abroad the money it looted, it uses different ways of sending money.  Receiving remittance money from Ethiopians living abroad, here, it had been offering exorbitant price as it had already unduly amassed wealth. It as well let fly FOREX abroad.
Vexed by the larceny, atavism and human rights violation of this Junta Ethiopians had shrugged it off their shoulders as they have embraced the change drive the nation kick started with a forward-looking stance.
Though the crimes the Junta committed don’t let it go scot-free, it was given a chance for introspection and repentance. It was allowed time to mend its ways.
Though the government exercised patience taking into consideration the need for national peace and reconciliation, the heinous bent of the lecher’s junta couldn’t be exorcised from it.
Ever since the onset of the change marches, the junta has been busy at wrecking and destabilizing the nation as well as rendering the life of citizens miserable by the day.
In the statement it had been issuing the incumbent has made clear the invisible hand of TPLF is behind all atrocities being committed throughout the country.
Recently TPLF had attacked the Defense force out to maintain the territorial integrity and sovergeinity of the country.
In so doing TPLF officials have showcased their being traitors. This unheard of impish act has portrayed the lecher Junta spares no effort to meet its evil ends. In engaging in the diabolic attract of the national defense force, writing history with its blood , TPLF has passed the point of no return thereby spelling its own destruction. Attracting a defense force is tantamount to making the country vulnerable to foreign enemies.
Hammering out the antipathy deeply entrenched in the psyche of ethnic groups due to the evil bent of TPLF must be made a point.
Holding criminals culpable is a must do.
TPLF officials’ hands are smeared with the blood of the innocent and they still want to buy time to further spill blood.
Before checking the revolting track-record of the junta trying to broker peace between the sagacious government and this junta is fatuous. Therefore those made a dupe must abstain to ask a chance of negotiation for TPLF.
There are some that say the country is on the brink of destruction and civil war. This wrong mentality is one that emanates from not knowing Ethiopians who love their country and show chemistry in the face of adversity.
Tranquility will ensue when the crackdown on TPLF officials comes to end soon.//
Jeremy Betts Nov 2023
I wonder if an eye for an eye means you'll never worry about a sty
You try and you try to comply but still see yourself go from zero to bad guy
{Never clarify a why}
You know as well as I, if possible at all they will always present the lie
And who needs to justify why it is what it is when what it is something we'll never get to try

Please stand by...

No one will be with you shortly, this journey is set up to be very lonely
It's just you and you buddy, Superman's strictly literary and there's no name at all on the bologna
{Look closely}
Monopoly's a better show of character then any therapy, decide for yourself if that's comedy or tragedy
Money is invested in more cautiously than time and family

Is there any calm to this calamity?

There's no depth to our shallowness, told it helps move along the progress
The process? Well, that's a little harder to digest, we digress with every test
{Failures are countless}
Direct protest to this nonsense that's pressed into every crevice
Some kind of life sentence, a guilty plea agreed upon with no victim or eye witness

What even is this?

Escape one bad dream only to find yourself awake in a worst nightmare
Nothing in here fights fair, I'm not aware of any rules posted anywhere
{I can feel the crosshair}
I don't want to be any part of this twisted love affair between god and Lucifer
Figure it out, don't ******* up there, I'll purch on YOUR shoulder, whisper crazy into your ear

Let's see who fears who here...

©2023
Take cover underneath your derelict day
  inside the cage of this home

and thrive in canned laughter, delay my
  coming, commanding like youth that was

your ever place. The city stranded into a thick
   swell of rain, gush was stone flushed in corners,

distending a shore. It was your extension with
   what was given -- this climate. This weather

within the azure's finest crosshair. Take this salt
   and ***** fish in brine. Brightest day

a myth under your penance that was I, supine
   on the surface unmoving like hue or else

dumb like refusal -- the amount of what for,
   patented here a blink couldn't waste in:

a season so squalid you waged inside yourself
    contained in a terminal brow of a humdrum day

that was yours solely manufactured from
    stalling a refrain, which tide of song

rinsed the corners whole betrayed by access
    of us here emptied like a concave

this loss tallied  by  the  gravity effaced
     with a high price, take this to your disquiet

and be caught against a registered tragedy
      when parted, dearly remembered to a feigned

retrieval -- further your stasis, then after this
      a halt lesser than force when found who we

are when   we  find how things are done.
Julian Delia  Sep 2018
Paralysed
Julian Delia Sep 2018
Frozen in place I stood,
A deer caught in a hunter’s crosshair.
I never thought you would,
But you did; you killed me, right there.

I am angry at myself, most of all;
For staying when I should have left,
For not dodging the bullet and taking the fall.
Twice now, I found myself broken;
Carelessly adrift in life,
Like a raft on the ocean.
Too much pain this chest,
These monsters in my head
Feel like an obstacle I cannot best.

I don’t just want to be loved;
I want us all to love and understand one another.
‘It’s not possible, we’re too different,’
Those who wish to rebuttal will answer.
No, that is the distant path you chose,
I choose to keep my humanity close.

And yet, I cannot stop the terrifying flashbacks.
You made me feel like a train veering off its tracks.
Like a bridge that leads to a precipice,
Nothing but a cold, dark abyss.
Meet the millennials -
The most criticised generation,
Suffering from emotional stagnation,
Raised on a steady diet of instant gratification.

‘What do you want, then?’
I want us to feel the soil with our bare feet.
To associate freely with others we meet,
Not bow down to the pretension of the elite.
To embrace our soul,
Not shun it and drive it into a locked room;
To retrace our role,
Not simply run our life’s course to its doom.

We are being led astray,
Our hopes and dreams hidden away.
We have no room for thought, little to say,
For few want to go out of their way.
No criticism, no originality -
No witticism, no vitality.
We are criticised for criticising,
And we are ostracised when we act defying.

We are the paralysed;
Our fears leave us immobilised,
Anxiety and depression,
Killing variety of expression.
We languish in prisons
That we build for ourselves in our own head;
We have nightmarish visions,
Like a guild of the living dead.
A re-write of another failed poetryfoundation submission, because **** those guys.
Jeremy Betts Apr 25
Depths of despair
Hang thick in the air
Almost daring me to care
And step into it's crosshair
Not realizing I'm aware
I've lived that nightmare
Been caught up in that snare
Somehow pushed past the warfare
Came through worse for wear
But it no longer has power
Over someone who can't care
Forcing it to find it's next victim elsewhere

©2024
utmost nadir of despair found
this atheist craning his neck skyward
hearing resplendent August
choral symphony may sound absurd,
but...mine supreme auditory sense

(compensated with poor vision,
i.e. extreme myopia) genetically injured
acute undoubted gifted courtesy,
viz cochlear ability crystal clear
also heard kindled melodious Lord

and lady joyously plucked harp strings,
which did lyft spirits seared, moored
anchored of me, one who demurred
coyly being graced with
exquisite hypnosis got lured

into cerulean celestial vault,
where I acquiesced and murmured
after a lifetime of hardship inured
every cell in my glob bully
warmed weatherbeaten body

sought salvation, thus poetic urge averred
this skeptic (nee nihilist), no matter
faith no more,...perhaps
soul asylum desperation secured

tenuous linkedin thread of hope
barely connecting yours truly, whose word
not necessarily claiming
to be the gospel truth,

nonetheless sought to nimbly aire
asthma tried and true valued metier,
vis a vis thru write of springiness declare
ring nothing sacrilegious,
nor decried as Harris say (ad) aware
no matter Doubting Thomas's (donned

as trumpeting English muffins)
may suspiciously questioning - dare
faux authenticity atop wobbly
shaky, and noname spear
such antithetical blare
nee as the rhyming ranting

of a harmless maniac
with mediocre ability to scare
heavenly visualization -
secondarily as a zealous
Earthlinked aspiring balladeer,

who immediately chucked
delusive fastasical notions
earning degree as an engineer,
thus setting sights, and
virtually figurative crosshair

to cackle like Chanticlear,
which discordant aural
debacle tortured ear
piercing decibel threshold of unbear
hubble pain for
those unfortunately subjected

and forced to endure such screeching
a result of budget cuts - profoundly severe
that perilous, seditious, and viscous tear
into webbed, whirled, and wide statecraft,
hence melodic reverberation mistaken
as mock apple pie "FAKE" fakir

begging intercession qua spiritual guardian,
wrought mine overactive imagination
conjuring smug cockle doodle fledgling cheer
shoring temple mount reverse fortune,

whereby by fanciful fatefulness, I fell victim,
tomb eye own dim eyes, poppycock did ensnare
riotous, roisterous, and ruinous roostering
essentially roused, grounded,
and distorted nightmare!
Yazad Tafti  Jun 2019
framework
Yazad Tafti Jun 2019
here's a picture
look in to the infrastructure of the fine frame
the outer border allures inward
vertices crosshair a centroid
the fine pigmentation due to stencil work and rich bold dabbing of acrylic paints merge to formulate images
blending, mashing, complementation of colours
azure, zyon, topaz, vermillion
i see a puddle and my interpretation is my reflection
i see a disemboweled figure who's ****** features exclaim "out of proportion"
bold petal ears, swelling rose cheeks, wrinkled eyes and a protruding thorn of a nose
i see beauty as the people in the painting smile back and joyfully prance
we laugh together as we see the same thing...people stuck in a frame watching the work of others pass them by as they remain idle for their idols
i'm thinking within the box

— The End —