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delicatefractal Jun 2013
sleep is as distant
as my love's embrace,
that genuine grace
of her skin against my face.
if only sleep would grant me this night's reprieve
and deceive my unconscious mind
with dreams of her--
lovely, warm, and fleeting.
Francie Lynch  Jul 2018
Traitor
Francie Lynch Jul 2018
Birthed by altruism or selfishness,
Motivated by personal gain
Or the forfeiting of a nation;
It's the betrayal of friends,
Country, cause and trust.
Cassius,
Judas,
Benedict Arnold,
The traitor has many personas.

Traitors are hated by those they prefer. (Tacitus)

I forgive those who ****** and steal,
but a traitor, never.
(Zapata)

A nation cannot survive treason from within...
He rots the soul of a nation...
No wise man ever thought a traitor should be trusted.
(Cicero)

Softness to traitors will destroy us all. (Robespierre)

An open enemy, however criminal, is no traitor. (Spooner)

To have a traitor as an ally is to have an enemy in waiting. (Carey)

It is the just decree of heaven that a traitor never sees
his danger till his ruin is at hand.
(Metastasia)

There are but two parties now... traitors and patriots. (U.S. Grant)

If I had one bullet and I was faced by both enemy and traitor,
I would let the traitor have it.
(Codreanue)

There is a special place in hell reserved for traitors. (J. Trudeau)

Every man must be for the U.S. or against it.
There can be no neutrals... only patriots or traitors.
(S. Douglas)

Et tu, POTUS. (F. Lynch)
2020 Campaign Slogan: "Make Rusmerica Great"
King Panda Jul 2016
oh my sister,
there are 77 dreams
I wrote in a journal
there is a glass of water I left
on some patio
there is a box of wisdom
I buried at a dusty crossroad
there is a beach where you are
I can see you in the waves
the razzle of the sand
like a billion speckled stars
and the horizon—black galaxy
next time I see you
you’ll be tan
like Cary Grant
but alive
and without the baby turtles
I asked for
I’ll ask how it went
and you’ll say
like a book
like a dream
like a starfish

are there even starfish
where you are?
if there are, please don’t
eat them
it would hurt your mouth
until then
look at the sun
she is beautiful—even I
a wannabe recluse poet
can appreciate nature
through my window

Dewy
Dr zik Mar 2015
Birds ate there all eatables
Flapping their wings as a dance
Trimming and preen of the wings
Jump here there, losing no chance
                  
Black, blue, brown-their cute colors
Short, long, slim, heavy, lightweight
Wings and flight-memorable
All in hurry to have fate

Chirp in low high sound, fresh  mood
They were neat, beautiful smart
Search everywhere-want of food
Giving an end, at the start                  
                            
Each-one looking for some good
Bit sip enough to quench thirst
No one waiting, for its turn
A cute *** bird, find it first
            
While the lyrics touch my soul
Chirp, chirp, chirp was their tweet, song
Making a norm; fresh my mood
Melodious-their sweet song

Ripe fruit there-serve passer-by
There were trees to grant a shade
There was rule-'No Restriction'
Beauty of leaves-not yet fade
                
Pan was waiting to serve all
One sharp sip-hurry to fly
Child fell down-knocked at rock
Help! Help! Shout- innocent cry
                
Sound dangerous, **** of earth
Crackling, falling, housing, wall
Help, no rescue-love or hate
Site was change in front of all
              
No charm, fame, concert at all
There was no work, club or shop
Speech for help was useless try
No search team or rescue dare
            
Winking eyes now-teary one
Nobody could found there a bun
There no signs of living one
No care there, no deal, no done

Birds ate there all eatables
Flapping there wings-as a dance
Trimming and preen of the wings
Jump here there, losing no chance
                              
Chirp, chirp sad song-low high sound
They were neat, beautiful smart
Search everywhere-want of food
Giving an end, at the start
                            
Each-one looking-for some good
Bit sip enough, quench the thirst
No one waiting, for its turn
Cute bird could not find it first

While the Lyrics, touch my soul
Chirp, chirp, chirp was their  sad song
Making a norm, my sad mood
Melodious, fair sad song

No fruit there for passer-by
No trees there to grant a shade
They were buried, there, somewhere
No green leaves at risk of fade
          
All the owners slept and pressed
Sound dangerous-lifeless rock
Ruined everywhere-tragic song
Mud, stone, sand, all-cause of shock

No help, care there, love or hate
There was silence as no play
No pan waiting there at all
Birds could find a broken tray

You reveal it then I know
My pangs are more than a sea
There is a link between two
Soul and a body, You and me
Dr. Zik's poetry
History (Muzzafarabad):
The city was near the epicenter of the 2005 Kashmir earthquake, which had a magnitude of 7.6. The earthquake destroyed 50% of the buildings in the city (including most of the official buildings) and is estimated to have killed up to 80,000 people in the Pakistani-controlled areas of Kashmir. As of 8 October 2005 the Pakistani government's official death toll was 87,350. Some estimates put the death toll over 100,000
ryn  Feb 2015
Witch's Brew
ryn Feb 2015
)
       o    (              (             (                  
O   )     (                      )        
            )                (      o
    (              (      (                       O  
   )     o              )   O       )        o
(    O              (     o      (         ) 
)    o                              )    (
**make me a cauldron of a witch's
brew•let it bubble and boil...;
simmer and stew• allow the con-
coction to churn•feed it with raw an-
guish and spiteful spurn•whisper my wi-
shes into shady ingredients•scatter them in
to render it potent•stir it wild...with an iron
ladle with a wooden haft•raucous incanta-
tions of a long forgotten craft•...now give
me a vial of the witch's brew•let it
**** me or grant me the gifts
promised in lieu•
haley  Oct 2017
sign of the times
haley Oct 2017
The trail of a wedding dress
The flower girl holds with tiny fingers
Clutches

We too hold the endless stain of blood
On white t-shirts
On nights that scatter blue trees over black heart
Alight by shooting stars
The mother tells her child
Unwilling to unlock the truth

The truth
The truth those stars
Don't grant your wishes
They grab them
With scarred scratching hands.
Alight,

The damp stitches in the soil
Cemetery symmetrical to hospital
Those shooting stars circling
Like a vulture
Speeds towards dead carcasses
Still, the murdering star will not cease

To break bones
That have already broken
To take lives
That have already been taken
To burn
What is already charred

Today
It smells like not your favorite food for dinner
It smells like having to do your math homework
It smells like burning books
It smells like gnawing on your own skin for feast
It sounds like tired, howling machines
Spurring and sputtering, never-ending their onwards trek

Swallowing distances and with it, nameless faces
Nameless places
For nothing has gone without the occulent scratching hands taking hold

Today the earthquakes of death
Don't make the land shake anymore
For it has learned to cope
With the desolate cemeteries filled with mute bones

Today burns like gasoline
Looks like intestines decorating destroyed doors
Today it rains curdled crimson

Tell me shooting star
If the child liked  jam on his toast
Did he snore?
Did he like math? Or english?
Shooting star doesn't know and neither the bombs.

As bodies fall from trees
like rotten plums.

The world was born in blood
And has not ceased to suckle its wounds
Endless blood thirst, Endless war
But not endless skin to bleed
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