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Eva May 2019
You were everything I want, nothing that I need
But I grew out of wanting the apple on The Tree.
Someone May 2019
is built from
and valleys
hills and creases

a body
a vessel
a shape
a form

mountains and valleys
beige yellow green and red
body is an arrangement
of forking paths

constructed by the devil
he is beautiful
in his sharp knife body
created from dust
before it could settle
Luna Maria Feb 2019
but just as
Adam and Eve
I couldn't stand
the temptation.
you are my forbidden fruit.
I’m made of dust, dried bones and incomplete,
To be cursed for want of a stolen rib,
Barely alive with the faintest heartbeat,
A grown man like an orphan in his crib.

No room for a soul in my shriveled veins,
No life support for fragile loneliness,
To acquiesce in sadness given reins,
A flawed experiment in holiness.

To be alive gives no consolation,
My helpmate has absconded with my soul,
Turning my devotion to temptation
To fill a void when I should have been whole.

This lesson has been far too hard to learn!
To God-forsaken earth let me return!
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Maaz Jan 2019
Upon the tree of eternity a man laid his gaze,
A sight that caused his thoughts to haze.
The words of the devil he could not trust,
yet gazing at this tree his heart filled with lust.
He stepped forward and took from the damnable tree,
A mistake, he soon realised, to doom him eternally.

Alas, the forbidden fruit had been consumed,
the dissolute nature of man finally exhumed.
As the consequences began to loom overhead,
"Oh, forgive me for my sin", he said,
"I have taken a bite from the forbidden fruit,
yet still I wish to confute,
The idea that I am inherently bad,
For I cannot bear to lose all that I've had"

To go from a world so green and lush
to one where the ground was covered with dust,
was the price this credulous man had to pay,
banished to earth,
to live out the rest of his days.
Our story of origin
nja Jan 2019
Embarrassed at her crude, superficial motivations she continues. This is a hidden therapy she’s toying with. She thinks she isn’t any good. She doesn’t know as many words as he does.
Comparison is her damnation.
Look at her, she’s plastered herself to the floor.
Immobile, she can’t even reach the glass ceiling threshold.
He slithers away, contented.
I explore the reasons I started writing poetry again. Realising, it was to impress a boy who is a poet himself it led me to this take on Adam & Eve and original sin.
Michael King Nov 2018
Dear nature stutters to a start,
and warmth fills in the cracks.  
The heart no longer seeps with cold.
The core's no longer black.

So on a twirl of leaf and grass,
and other things that grow.
There came to life a living thing,
which melted all the frost and snow.

He rose upon a starlit night
and wandered with a stutter.
As trees gave bloom, and flowers sang.
Water flowed, mountains muttered.

All wilted things, each drew new breath,
and gloried in this sight.
A godly host. Powerful spirit.
And lit all things with natural light.

He fashioned bird, and crafted beast,
and said that it was good.
He hollowed out the very stars,
crafted every glade and wood.

Then in the last, he blew a breath,  
and from the very sand.
A form with legs and arms there grew,
and this he labelled man.
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