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Lyn-Purcell Jun 2018
How easy it is for one's mind to change
from jumps and joy
to a hollow
shell

Disappointed

No
sadness
just a place I go
in mind where I walk in and
turn the **** to block noise with noise
The noise of my mind conquers the noise of my body

Disappointment travels in and out my ears
Never to stop or dock
If I let it dock,
then my bubble pops
And just like that, my mood has changed.
Great (!) And I was real excited and amped.
I'll block out noise with noise. My inner noise that is. One people underestimate and tell me to 'get over'.
When I feel hollow, I kinda shut down physically. Everything goes blank. There's not tears only blankness and a quiet bubble for the noisy thoughts I have.
Oh well, tomorrow is another day. And the day after is my birthday.
Things will get better, hopefully.
Anyway. More Sijo and Lantern poems will be uploaded soon enough.
Have a good night everyone!
Be back soon!
Lyn
Martin Narrod Jun 2018
Brief Yet Common Encounters Pt. II

Stage rose to the coach,
Trouble with flies is they
Never know when to keep still-
Pumped full up of automobile dust and Neon lights and blank stares and

There goes the inaudible tick
The wings of minutia passing us by.

There goes the dusk spattering,
Feral men cordoned by beasts-
The great epée of thorn branding
The early light summoned,

Wounded obelisks of strength and Immortality brandishing the dagger
That built Her Earth. Before the sirens
Rang beyond the crepuscular fortnight,

Deep valleys of arid central hills
Attempting to rise to the day
And show compassion to the Underprivileged.
Earth dawn corpuscular before after during period evolution life love universe people poor impoverish underprivileged arid central hills desert vast expanse desolate dagger native Americans America Americans USA Indians nativeamericans deep valley dust compassion ancient language poetry Arizona Phoenix beasts throbs the bible biblical Jesus jesuschrist men light sun moon stars flies fly levels tick sound sounds keep still never always
Poetic T Jun 2018
Our conciseness is a teardrop
       in the reflection of our
                                    morality.

For every ripple,
                  has a repercussion,
                  of cognitive contemplation.

Tears may fall, but our morality
                         is a ripple always
                         collecting on shores
                         of retrospective conciseness.
Nicole Bataclan May 2018
The wipes do not work
My eyeliner, smudged;
Words at war
Words when calm.

The Einstein hair
Bad morning breath;
A shadow of a smile
You standing against the light.

Ravaged by tragedy
Fresh bread from the bakery;
I lean in
For my forehead kiss.

Last night at war
The morning calm
–  Coffee is ready
Did you sleep on it?
I don't believe in a prince wearing his armory, slaying the princess' dragon, saving the princess, and living happily ever after together

I believe in the princess wearing her own armory, slaying her own dragons, saving herself , and living her own happily ever after
Zack Apr 2018
Morning afters
Am I right?
Pounding headaches
Sun too bright

Walk of shame
Pregnancy scares
Greasy, tangled
Missing hair

Familiar stenches
Foreign limbs
Awkward glances
Weird breakfast whims

Soon comes the doubt
If it all really happened
love marks found out
What a mistake I’m now trapped in

Missed calls and messages
From those close and dear
Who’ve been desperate
To suppress their worst fears

9:15 says the clock
Put on various pieces of clothes
Visit a starbucks
Get a soy latte with sugar, dark roast

9:25 am
Check facebook
Check twitter
Get a bite by a food truck

9:35 am
“Where are you?”
It’s your mom
“I’m just getting some food”

9:40 am
“Where are you?”
It’s the one night stand
DON’T OPEN IT DUDE

9:45 am
“Where are you? Why are you late?”
It’s your boss
Wait, today’s friday.
Kwamé Apr 2018
I'm too old for fairy tales
Don't entertain me
With myths and tall tales
Of a fair maiden that
Awaits a top a castle
In a land far far away
Chivalry is dead
And you killed it

With this catch and release,
Find a mate, toy with them,
And when bored cast them away,
cleanse your hands with bleach
And forget they exist
I should count my blessings
But this obsession with all
This shame and rejection
Got me playing memories
Like this on a loop
Previews of purgatory
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