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Ashlei Cottom Dec 2014
We thought it was empty,
Until we stepped inside.
The broken dreams and shattered hearts,
The cries of despair,
Lingering spirits reminding us oth their existance.

Empty little down,
Sad little town,
Desolated, destroyed little town.

Sweet little shadows,
Tender little spirits,
Guiding us through the ruin.

They never saw it coming,
Their surprise fate,
Seizied upon them while at play.

Blink of an eye,
Gone in a flash,
Nothing left,
No future, only past.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Arcassin B  Jun 2016
Risen
Arcassin B Jun 2016
By Arcassin Burnham

Slave to perfection in your honor as you leave,
Putting together pieces that you broke can't give
The seed,
I'm realizing the love was real from the emotional
Decree of absolute modesty between you and me,
Do you agree?,
Crying hysterically,
And you know everything I think of,
And you know everything I dream of,
There's no other way to say your perfect only than the
Words I speak of,
You're practically covered up in dark endeavours
With your feathers,
Yeah their pretty long,

There's no other way to say that you're the one for me,
I'm coping , breaking out of insecurity,
I'm bound to evolution and my heart is buried in grass
But protected by glass encrusted figures in the valleys
Grasp,
I got not no way to see you,
You're practically covered up in dark endeavours
With your feathers,
Yeah their pretty long,
I say , "so long",


There's - No - Oth-er Way,
That I - Can - Make - You - Stay,
There's - No - Oth-er Way,
That I - Can - Make - You - Stay,
There's - No - Oth-er Way,
That I - Can - Make - You mistakes,
....just go.
http://abpoefall.blogspot.com/2016/06/f-l-l-e-n-lp-deluxe-edition.html
jalc  May 2016
full circle
jalc May 2016
.

         •we sleep
                                 swad-
                                           dled
                 we manage               tight•
           somehow      to wake            late at
       •and...                  cradled             night•
      the bed                    in the ci-          we toss
   ngle off                      cle of ea-           and tu-
   ms da-                     ch oth-             rn•roll
our ar-                  er's a-             away
sheets•            rms•           and re-
with the                   turn...•
our legs tangle

.
Words by me.
Arrangement by the madly gifted ryn; more of his talent at writing and concrete poetry showcased at http://hellopoetry.com/ryn/
Thank you ryn(:
ryn  Dec 2015
Love Fool
ryn Dec 2015
.
*    |                                       |                                              |
    |                                       |                                              |
    |                                       |                                              |
     |                                    •arches                                      |  
   |                                 up top bef-                                   |
   |                               ore tapering                                   |
   |                                   down to                                      |
   |                   ­                    the                                           |
    |                                         ­                                            ooo
       |                   ooo    bottom•a sym-      ooooo         ooo    o
   |              oooo    bol that holds my en-     oooo      ooo
|       oooo        tirety for ransom•a hos-      oooooo  
|   ooo              tage situation that made          ooo    
ooo                   me so willing•truss me                      
  ooo              up, bound...  i am not                      
oo            fighting•call this in-              
          oo            sensibility... name                         
ooo                  this foolery•i am                   
   ... but a branch
dangling off
|                           a  tree•                            |  
|                call                           thus            |  
|           me   an                        i   am           |  
|          idiot... la-                 the doll,          |    
|            bel  me a              from  oth-         |    
|            nitwit•for          ers, set far          |    
|                i only                    apart•           |    
|     have my                             i am the     |    
| strings...                                      marione-    
i am but                                             tte who's
a limp                                                        after
pup-                                              your
    ­ pet•                                         heart•
*
.
By far the toughest concrete poem I have ever attempted!

Concrete Poem 29 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
.
Speakin’ in general, I’ave tried ’em all
The ‘appy roads that take you o’er the world.
Speakin’ in general, I’ave found them good
For such as cannot use one bed too long,
But must get ‘ence, the same as I’ave done,
An’ go observin’ matters till they die.

What do it matter where or ‘ow we die,
So long as we’ve our ‘ealth to watch it all—
The different ways that different things are done,
An’ men an’ women lovin’ in this world;
Takin’ our chances as they come along,
An’ when they ain’t, pretendin’ they are good?

In cash or credit—no, it aren’t no good;
You’ve to ‘ave the ‘abit or you’d die,
Unless you lived your life but one day long,
Nor didn’t prophesy nor fret at all,
But drew your tucker some’ow from the world,
An’ never bothered what you might ha’ done.

But, Gawd, what things are they I’aven’t done?
I’ve turned my ‘and to most, an’ turned it good,
In various situations round the world
For ‘im that doth not work must surely die;
But that’s no reason man should labour all
‘Is life on one same shift—life’s none so long.

Therefore, from job to job I’ve moved along.
Pay couldn’t ‘old me when my time was done,
For something in my ‘ead upset it all,
Till I’ad dropped whatever ’twas for good,
An’, out at sea, be’eld the dock-lights die,
An’ met my mate—the wind that tramps the world!

It’s like a book, I think, this bloomin, world,
Which you can read and care for just so long,
But presently you feel that you will die
Unless you get the page you’re readi’n’ done,
An’ turn another—likely not so good;
But what you’re after is to turn’em all.

Gawd bless this world! Whatever she’oth done—
Excep’ When awful long—I’ve found it good.
So write, before I die, ” ‘E liked it all!”
Monika  Oct 2015
Teddy Bear
Monika Oct 2015
Please*              Open and see

                                       Sweet            ­Dreams
                                   No! Don´t worry, gone will
                                 be the ni gh tmare s.. . when you
                                 turn  ar oun d, an oth er dream
                                    will imme dia tely come...
                                       I have an eye on you
                                            all night long.
                                   From my seat, you can´t
                               really hear  me.  I´m sure you  
                         you won´t. But you should seriously
            know that I´m always here. Noth ing will happen
           to you ... I´m yo ur guardian ... bu t not an ordinary
             one. I´m the                                    sweet little...
                 Teddy                                                  **Bear­
Sweet Jesus! You can´t even imagine how much work did this need... I´m tired! But it was worth it :)
Most bi*  r  ds call me ugly but
   I'm be  a  utiful & intelligent
     than  v  ultures and most of
  all oth  e  r birds gracing
   the ve  n  *etian skies
#Ravens have long been associated with death and dark omens but the real bird is some what a mystery.

#Acrostic #Raven #Racial prejudice  #Venetian skies #Vultures
rohini singal  Sep 2016
the void
rohini singal Sep 2016
i:
feel like nothing
like am nothing
nor was ever anything
nor will amount to something
insides:
scooped out like a melon
leaving a great gaping void
in the center of my chest
e m p t y
of thought, action, motivation,
drained of energy
of life of joy
of everything
e    m       t     y
of identity
e                     y
in heart
body
mind
soul
d
i
  s
   i
    n
     t
      e
       g
        r
         a
          t
          (i)nto
           (n)oth
         in(g).
Lee Turpin  Aug 2010
an angony
Lee Turpin Aug 2010
It is with the simplicity of a single sheet of paper that these words are coming out of me.

None at all.  

Struggling, aching with potential.
Clouding the emptiness, growing heavier.
Getting so heavy.
Bursting forth, victoriously impulsive and unprepared.
Leaping!

Falling from the lips, and dying, too fragile to endure
the critical gaze of the beautiful.

The senten ces be gin to break apart into syllab les
and then in
to
lett
ers

the     substance of
m   y
int       er actions wi th
oth    ers

dying


in

t
h


e


**mud.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2015
i wish i could ******* like a stephen king once in a while, but then my imagination sometimes gets a kick in the **** from delusional thinking, this the antidote to "a lack of imagination," this the artistic equivalence to a magician's trick, the illusionary works of sawing a woman in half; the many times i spilled some whisky on it... it happens... it happens so automatically that it's sometimes terrifying; now to find that cognitive anchor... ah, here it is: i.*

th- following l-tt-rs hav- b--om- -isabl--

e
c
d
3 / ω


on my k-yboar-,
h-n- th- hyph-nation.

p-rhaps to slow m- -own,
or what-v-r r-ason th-r- is to it,
-onstru-ting a n-w -nigma?

so th- r-ason w-str-n so-i-ty is
-xp-ri-n-ing
a flux of pr-matur- --m-ntia
is --u to population siz-

an- th- young on-s b-ing for---
into a -ompl-x worl-
of s-rious maths an s-rious -h-mistry:
so mu-h th-ory
an- th-n only giv-n bor--om among
banaliti-s of r-p-at r-p-at -
-ompl-x th-ori-s
to b- thrown into a worl- of -istill-ri-s

whisk-y an- vo-ka typos of
form-r -ompl-xiti-s
r-quiring p-rfum-s to say th- l-ast... -st-rs:
sw--t aromati- -h-mistry.

but from th- -r-am worl-:
1. paint s-otlan- with 3 r-- strip-s
2. paint -nglan- with 3 blu- strip-s
3. op-n a win- bottl- with a mat-hsti-k
    an- fin- -arth in th- bottl-: mu--y
    grit, soil.
4. ov-r h-ar talk of my -at-gorisation
    of th- anglo-slav; as a -hat up lin-.

o-- thing is... it's only th- lin-
      3 / £
             E
               D
                 C

t--hnophob- m-, th- oth-r 3 works though...
on th- mobil-:
                        7 8 9
                        4 5 6
                        1 2 3.

— The End —