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Andreas Simic Apr 23
oscillating back and forth
head tilting from leeward and windward
an abstract puzzling my imperial gaze
a Van Gogh in waiting

      perchance a reflection illuminated
      in broad mesmerizing strokes
      some tantalizing insightfulness
      else a superficial escapade

do the color menageries
stray my mindfulness or hold attention
each vivid hue enlightenment
to soothe & provide enrichment

    is my inspiration desperation
    to find meaning in the simpleton
    gravitating and debating
    between beauty and gargoyles

does incredulous creativity scare me
or woo me into submissiveness
the artist plying servitude
into mine cavernous cavities

     Alan Scales’ exhibit of
     Turquoise Abstract Landscape II
     provides fodder for my mind
     to exponentially explode

Andreas Simic©
display Apr 15
the hardest thing to do in a world of lies
is to learn to trust again
the endless void of crippling apathy
consumes as a chasm of pain
the hardest thing to do in a world of hate
is to love yourself to death
the endless void of crippling apathy
was not allowed first breath
it was born dead
but not allowed to die
disgraceful abomination of the chasm of pain
if life is cloth this is its stain
my god did not bear witness to its worship
no soul left to claim
and so his silent pleas were thrown aside, worthless prayers in the rain
no soul left aside
in the chasm of pain
allowed life but to live
pandemoniac Mar 27
Abandon definitions.

They are abbreviations of something abstract, abundant alive.

I am an admirer, an adaptation

an affiliate of things
antique and alien,

And who are you?

An anthology of secrets
An aggregate of emotion.

We are an allegory of nothing and all things

An affinity for the absurd
An animosity for analysis.
[my writing prompt was to write a poem using as many letters starting with "a" as possible]
Nigdaw Mar 23
your metre blackens the page
beautifully dancing fonts
caress the delicate surface
like skaters tracing their dance
across the ice in blades

an expression of genius perhaps

your gorgeous muse laughs
joyously titillating imagination
positively prostituting herself
to your phallus stylus *******
your fertile imagination
spawning verse birthing phrase

and I don’t understand
a single ******* thing you said
Ahmad Attr Feb 27
The lake of millions of scales
Slippery and silvery
The scales click as we dash on them
scurrying on, latched on to your shirt
I trip to my knees
But you prance and dance on
To the shore of red shells
So many of them, like smouldering fire
The crispy crumbles crinkle underneath your feet
I run on my fours, panicking
You keep on moving steadily
Leaving me
Until you have to leap on the carapaces
And you miss a step and fall on your back
And I move, cutting through the air
To your rescue
Treat you, heal you, feel you getting better
Then we both continue to escape the ocean together

But you are so much better at running away than me
I couldn’t tread no more with my numb blistered feet
Blinded by the lights you make it to the city
You’ll make your way to the mountains
Atop you’ll go to the heaven’s door
Go and I’ll return
I’m cold, I’ll return to the shore,
Then to the depths where I belong
So I move back
Across the green carapaces
And the ruddy shells
Into the silvery land that moves inward
Into the dark water
I don’t belong up there
So I’ll sleep for eternity
You go on with the heroes
And wines and ambrosias
Must be nice right?
Must be..
nice….
….
Anastasia Jan 29
As I become undone
My threads untangle
Every little knot unraveling
Their stories lost
Memories fade
Images drown in static
I succumb to little needles
Pricking every surface of my skin
While a song seeps from my throat
And leaks onto the dusty floor
Alone on creaky hardwood
In a dark
Dim
Crumbling
Home
camps Jan 21
the tips of my fingers have grown mouths
yes
and now all they do is complain about
not being able to see
you see
i'd give them eyes but
i swapped them all for the tiles
better suited for the triple letter
there's a rabbi rappelling down the
face of a mountain that looks like him
but still lets him down
he'll ***** you i swear
just hanging on the cliff
by the noose of suspense
you just have to give him a minute
feeling's overrated so
cue the parting lovers
i gave my fingers eyes
but took away their mouths
i showed them you and
now they seem like they wish
they'd never seen at all
a fair trade to have their lips again
and say what they want to say
re-sharing some of my older work

poem taken from my book 'anywhere but here'
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