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kk Jun 2018
Salivating
Slide in
Sugar-searching serpent
You spark
In this ****
A naive mind
That this might
Work out
Before you
Tire out
Tonguing
Lemon-lime lollies
Licking your lips
For a confection
A bit more
Cherry
And maybe I'm looking for someone a little more zesty.
PoserPersona May 2018
Try utilizing meter and form
Stanzas that can be adored
Not necessarily rhyming
Though at least include some pacing
Prose riding rhythm
Consider a little alliteration
Free verse certainly has merit
But too often excuses ****.
Give us not what is convenient,
But that which is brilliant.

Always,
One unwilling to partake in your portentous ****
Yes, I think there is a lot of great contemporary poetry and poets, as much as any other genre, but I just feel free prose is abused not for its brilliance, but for the apparent convenience people seem to think it affords them.
Devin Ortiz May 2018
Admire the mire
Mind the matter

But dont wallow in worry.
For perception is pain.

Duplication is devious.
Smiles are sinister.

Bring on the beginning.
Endure unto the end.

Darkest are the days.
Nightmarish as the nights.

Ghouls of old gestalt.
Rise to revenge.

Time is taken.
Lord of lies.
Fallert May 2018
When there's a stormy night,
When winds howl with fright,
When I lose all my sight,
I walk.
When the sun burns the sky,
When the dark gives a cry,
When the moon tells a lie,
I walk.
When the bombs blow the streets,
When the trusted finally cheats,
When the unknown defeats,
I walk.
When the forest loses air,
When the steel breaks a tear,
When men cry in despair,
I walk.
When the flag falls from the tops,
When the farmers stop growing crops,
When the unstoppable stops,
I walk.
When everything seems clear,
When the room's filled with cheer,
When there's no longer any fear,
I walk.
Jo Barber May 2018
Calm, cool, contemplative.

This is all her face said to me.
Peering at me from behind pale, grey eyes,
she appeared rather wise.

Yes, those saucer-shaped eyes
reminded me much of the sky,
or a boat about to capsize.

So stormy were those eyes
that hid so much.
Her emotions,
completely untouched.

All because of those irreplaceable,
impenetrable eyes.
Mary-Eliz May 2018
birdsong
in cerulean sky
ceiling

green verdant grass
beneath us
lying lazily
in love
Breon Apr 2018
Let's bask atop this spinning stone
Where sun-glow sears the soles and skin
Until it reaches bleaching bone
And kisses it 'til wearing thin.
Let's savor summer's coming-home
As if it never will again.
The heatwave scorches off our fears
And sets us free. Scream joy and tears.

The blacktop, lapping at your heels
Like hellhounds barking out dog days;
The noonday shadows' faint appeals
All stifled in the phoenix blaze;
The April blossoms wilt and peel.
Their season's passed. They cannot stay,
Not while the sun is in its power,
We'll watch them die within the hour.
I hate summer. Spring may be the kindest season, but autumn seems more honest.
Ruby's ravishing rock
received many rave reviews
was of richest red
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