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Dominique Aug 2
Darling, your fingertips
Are such a warm shade of life
They leave stains on the water you brush,
Though my blood slips away quite at ease

After you've pulled away
The blueprint for your genesis stays
Penny-shaped, an indent on the surface
Spread outwards in a wingspan and blooming

Encouraged by the breeze, you take root
In the flesh of the fountain through the day
And at night, a new you steps out to greet me
With the new moon
Perhaps I'm dreaming

Ethereal, you appear to me
Dressed in dilute headlight gleam,
The water gives rise to your colours
So I can peer through my curtains, trembling

And watch you, once again,
Washing your blameless hands of me
In the pool of the night sky which blazes
Deep yellow with the blueprint for another you
The cycle continues before my blurry eyes

Maybe this time you'll bring Armageddon down
To see me soon, soon
I'll watch the sky erupt with love in silence

At least when you push me away a third time
I won't have to miss you ever again,
Consumed by ravenous starlight.
if she ever comes back i'll let her read this poem
i hope she laughs
i hope she likes it
Tommy Randell Jul 29
We are clever men. We chart the Cosmos out there on fire against the freeze
With Science & Technology. We define its patterns and are as sure
Of Time and Space as we are of the particles that curve and flare,
Ascribing rules and formulating Truths from their colliding deep under ground.
We seek to preserve Mankind, to let it journey out to find a more universal shelter.

For this Earth we live upon is a place of many fragile shelters.
From the temperate forests to the latitudes that freeze
We think we know it, we think to own it, this ground.
So much an act of certainty we believe we can be sure
It is ours for ever, that we control it because we have a certain flare -

And we do, we inherit, we learn, we invent. We have imagination, to be sure,
But all of this, all of this Evolution, this is not sure ground
For thinking any of it or us will last. We trust this shelter
In a hubris of arrogance. Because we have looked back from deep space to see humanity flare
Like  a beacon against the black zero of an infinite deep freeze

We attribute such uniqueness to ourselves. In this we forget the background.
The universe is a furnace of stars. Stars are furnaces where infinities flare,
Where what is made is in time unmade - The Cosmos is one slow simmer. Freeze
That thought there. Are we safe on this Earth shelter?
Think of all we are, all that we conceive. Of what exactly can we be sure?

We can be sure the Sun will just reach out. From its slow simmer. We know the flare
Will take 8 minutes to get here unannounced. We know there will be no where to shelter.
During the resulting catastrophe there wont be anything about which we will not be sure.
The  atmosphere will burn, the oceans will boil, and the lifeless black cinder remaining will freeze.
Nothing will be left that is above ground.  Nothing will be left below ground.

After the flare, the Earth, and the moon it sheltered,
Nothing will be more sure or more frozen, nothing will be left resembling anything like  ground.
A Pentina (5 line verse form with rotating line endings etc etc) I wrote this for a competition to use the five given words...

Freeze. Sure. Flare. Ground. Shelter.

Didn't submit it in the end, not quite happy with it yet. But I do enjoy wrestling with a confining format but having an image to portray ... and, of course, 5 fixed words!
Dominique Jun 22
The silhouettes are all the same
When formed by falling nuclear rain;
And that's the real catastrophe:
No difference between you and me.
Without individuality we have nothing :)
Strung Jun 17
You liar
Little liar spitting in my eyes
Who am I to tell you who or what is better?
Pain and rhymes and all our ******* time
Is wasted playing games of true or false
Deep in our own seething breathless hearts;
Life and death and all the painful nothing in between
Is a dream we can’t begin to see
As surrendering to nothing.

Burn it all—
Kneel to Gods great wrath
As he takes your heart deep in his throat and breaks it will his laugh.
A demon crawling along the floor of my mind
Breaks the silence
Ylzm May 17
in seven of sevens,
in time, times and a half,
from the very first night,
the harvest is completed.

the fruition of the leaven of truth,
once a strange tongue,
coded in familiar languages;
unquenchably burns on altars.

a foreign bride awaits,
the reason a man leaves his family;
love shall be awakened and aroused,
for the time is right!

the light, fully revealed.
a child, a new creation:
King of kings for a thousand years,
then Armageddon!
We need a new word for Dystopian
These days it's got kind of Utopian
When did death and destruction become a fashion?
And is THAT really the worst we can imagine?
Well, it all looks a little Cyclopean

For example, I'm fed up with intergalactic Global War tactics
Let's have The Earth almost destroyed
By a kilometre wide swarm of Alien hemorrhoids
Let's give our future a final **** spin on its axis
Lets have some proper post-apocalyptic dystopian praxis!
Sorry about this... But sometimes my love of language gets the better of me.
Bigorexia & Bonespiration
went to bed.
Bigorexia blew off
& Bonespiration was dead.

Torschlusspanik & Tidsoptimist
went to bed.
Torschlusspanik blew off
& Tidsoptimist was dead.

Jealousy & Compersion & Compersion
went to bed.
Jealousy blew off
& Compersion & Compersion & Jealousy were dead.

The ****** doors & Michael Caine
went to bed.
The ****** doors blew off
& Michael Caine was dead

Israel & Iran
went to bed.
Israel blew off
& everyfuckingbody was dead.
Harsha Jun 2018
When I was younger I use to ponder
How I would one day prefer to flat line and expire
The most attracted option my forgone war bound mind could muster;  
Was in the event of a global nuclear holocaust
It brought me some well-deserved comfort due to the fact that
  As the residual fall out would inevitably eviscerate me
It shall also decimate everything I hate;
Second viable option was a similar scene straight out of Micheal Bay s Armageddon
Caught in the aftermath of a world killer; a horrific meteor shower
As it would undoubtedly bring about my decease and lay waste to this insufferable biosphere;
Thirdly my personal favourite choice to realize my own demise
Was through a carefully administered ****** overdose I surmise;
Induced in a state of perpetual ecstasy locked in a coma Comfortably numb,
making love then becoming one with oblivion
I think I prefer this choice in contrast to the first two selections
Mainly to avoid all that collateral damage that would directly result in the deaths of a few billion;
But mostly because been lucid awake and sober is an absolute nightmare
Been rooted to a state of utter obliviousness and intoxication are a welcoming pair
And I have reached the point of no return where I no longer care.
Kuvar May 2018
On that faithful day
With the tree’s clapping so loud
The wind escalated the noise to the sky
Covering the face of the sun
Darkness corned in man’s heart
Their shelter roofs it took off
Men were sent on a forceful voyage
Things fall apart as weak mustache  
Tabula rasa hits the skull of man
Church goers lament in distress  
“Forgive me oh lord my sins”
An atheist gulps in self defense
I stand as a witness to say
The sexuality of nature is wild

At the veranda, then this might my wind started beating the trees and the waves went up as dust and the darkness on that day was so heavy that I feared if it’s the end of the world then the rain poured that the sea wasn’t known from the land...
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