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Yash  Feb 2020
Mummified Monster
Yash Feb 2020
Bleeding, missing platelets
Like a fountain, Exsanguination
Carcass, skin and bones left
Bury me, burn me, you better remember me.

Boy, get your paws right off me.
Growl, howl, gnaw, all you want.
Do not defile me. Leave, run for your life
Go face your reflection and scream, monster.

Snaked Nile, blue and white
carry the scratched Sarcophagus
to the end of the world.
Mummified monster.

Relic of the dark past
Monster of today
Destroyer of the bright future.
Don't let him escape, I pray to Horus.

Oh, the divine one-eyed one
heed my prayers.
Isis, guard him like Ra
Fear him like Apophis.

Otherwise, like ISIS
he will destroy your dreams, Mesopotamia.
Possessed by Set, blinded by red
Constrain him before he kills your Osiris.

Swamp, sudden snap. The jaws of Sobek
One monster to the rescue of the other.
Great Khnum, carry the golden coffin to the sea of chaos
destroyed by Isfet or swallowed by the black snake. Keine pflege.

Nephthys. Water, flood him
bury him deep within the death bed.
Vater, Moustached black man
Ich werde dich nicht vermissen.
Just to help understand this, this poem uses a lot of Egyptian mythology references and the end of the poem uses german words.
JacquelineCalla May 2019
Nun kenne ich dich,
die andere Seite von dir.
Doch ich steh noch dort drüben,
Weit weg, weit weg von dir,
Und mir.

Du drehst dich fort,
Um, ohne zurück zu sehen.
denn du wirst nichts, gar nichts vermissen,
Verfehlen, ich fehle dir nicht,
Weiter gehen. Nach vorne,
immerzu, weiter gehen.

Nur du und Ich,
Daraus wird wohl nie was,
das muss ich jetzt glauben, denken
denken, denken nur nicht fühlen
Nur was?

Was soll ich fühlen?

Leere, Stille oder nur dich

So wie es jetzt ist, ist es dasselbe,
Das Gleiche, oder auch nicht.

Wer weiss das schon.
Jeder, jeder, nur nicht ich.

So wie es scheint.
Emma  Feb 2021
Sehnsucht
Emma Feb 2021
ich habe Sehnsucht nach Dingen, die nie passiert sind
sehne mich zurück nach etwas, das es nie gab

dein Arm um meine Schulter
mein Atem auf deiner Haut

ich will nicht weitergehen.
nicht ohne dich.

ohne dein Lachen im Ohr
ohne deinen Blick auf mir

wieso kann ich dich nicht vergessen?
wie kann ich etwas vermissen, das ich nie hatte?
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2021
nothing's going to happen tonight... i'm already thinking what i'm going to be eating for breakfast, how much time it's going to take me complete that NVQ English & Mathematics assessments, the first module... for that role as steward at venues... i'd love to rethink writing, this writing, as: something more than what tabloid newspapers & magazines employ people for... no matter... i don't think i have the stomach to even begin to care what people want to digest... let the people be people: it becomes much easier thus, to become yourself... wholly... but i won't be up to much tonight... why, just because, see below:

there's not much to write about this night...
absolutely nothing:
i'm only scribbling because:
it would be a complete waste: to simply,
to merely drink...
i can't just drink, just: drink...
   waste of a good bourbon if i'm not bleeding
any ink...
the highlight? one of my maine *****
decided to investigate the windowsill
i was perching on... with one foot folded
sitting on it...
so he jumped onto the windowsill
and started toying with: truth or dare with
his reflection... i took a few photographs...
because, as someone once said:
spending time around cats is never
a wasted moment...
it possibly can't be...
       freedom from the leash... from taking
the animal for a walk...
but beside this zenith: of a cat peering into
glass: when glass becomes a mirror in
the night, source of light on the inside...
complete darkness outside...
hell... he managed to sit so excited that
i stood up & took a picture of myself with him...
i stroke my beard...
i scratch my head... if there was a glass
of milk available: i'd probably drink it...
i stroke my beard:
god, i miss fidgeting with my chin
& jaw-line...
        i sometimes wish i was 18 again
and had my long hair done-up into
a French braid...
then i wish i wasn't...
   i like being this indecisive...
        stretched over time... yet composed
to a little bit of space...
- such unspectacular writing...
anyone could do it with enough
focus for keeping up with the rigours
of grammar & spelling...
yet for me... merely an interlude...
winter has come and cycling has become
a chore... extra clothing... gloves...
when speeding even if the recorded
temp. is only hovering above one degrees Celsius...
the felt temp. when riding a bicycle:
with the wind "impediment" drops to below 0...
but winter comforts my thought(s)...
the almost eternal night sooths...
all colours on the ground: dimmed...
everything is more: sketched...
rather than painted...
        i always adored winter...
all that's missing is the snow...
why will the snow never come?
warum werden der schnee, nie kommen?
will the snow never come? why?
come night... when: as it falls...
pirouettes of ghostly ballerinas...
that's how i remember it...
standing in the middle of a graveyard
at night... looking up...
as the flakes fell on my face...
i have never... experienced a tender kiss...
not by a mother, not by a girlfriend...

ich vermissen... dies, nur freude:
komme(n) die lange nacht...

    schneeflocke... schneeflocke...
   kuss mich, nur eine: letzte zeit.

— The End —