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Carmen Jane Sep 25
In response to the knock on the door
I ran to open it and it was me,I was floored
Then my ear itched and I reached
Only to fall out of my ear,oh dear!

I flossed myself out from my grainiest smile
And lay on the tips of my eyelashes
I collected my thoughts and myself in a file
I burned it and  rose  from the ashes.

I swam an ocean so I can arrive in time
To be the reflection of myself looking down
I made myself smile although I was kicked
In ripples surrounding my ankles.

I can spell my name with my eyes closed
I know you can spell yours too
The message in this rhyme is enclosed
I hope you don't mind I chose your alley
                       To pass through...
Lyrical Dream Sep 24
It's ironic, isn't it,

how the heart's gentle mascot,
the rose,
can make rubies pool in the creases of our flesh

or, how love itself can pluck the beat from our hearts until we are left numb to emotion

or, how we beg our heart to feel,
but when it does, we fill our souls with gasoline and choke matches down our voiceless throats,
hoping to make ashes of emotions that we fail to suppress?
Jeff Lewis Sep 24
Father, I hope this can will do; it’s Folgers.
You loved your coffee black, mud strong.
I remember how to make it,
Water in the ***.
Float the grounds.
Boil ’til they sink.
Campfire style, you called it.
That last cup, pour careful,
so as not to get the grit. I remember
how it went.

But Father, once I do this
once we commit your ashes to the sea;
once I pour this can of dust into the river,
what then?

What should I do
with this old empty coffee can?
My father, ever pragmatic, wanted a three pound Folgers Coffee can as an urn.
Arthur Blank Sep 21
Silver moon how you look tonight so blue,
Waning wistfully over winters ashes,
Reflecting that wan shade that is your hue.

Whispers of wind shake the barren branches,
A sordid symphony that sings so clear,
Your soft gentle voice, while above passes,

The restless clouds that shape to me the years;
Memories drifting by my moonlit room.
I loved once watching the falling snow here,

All is grey and I’ll be leaving here soon,
To forget your words, the world and this place,
Turn around down a new path and never look back.

Will it be vain? Even if I do pace,
The moon will cast always to me your face.
A sonnet.
Anna Sep 21
Men, oh the men
They burnt my version of whispering woods
Now all I can see is grey
And all I can smell is the smoke
I have ashes over my cactuses
My uncle is awake
And he is crying
Because he knows it won't go back
To how it was even if it grows again
And I'm crying
Because I know it's true.
The system failed
I burnt my house
I seem so frail
As small as mouse
The ashes scatter
All around
It doesn't matter
I'm now unbound
Freestyle written in 4 minutes
Creator Sun Sep 16
Red.
The colour that flows through our veins,
The power that we keep in vain.

Blood.
The one that spills out of our guts.
The one that power our hearts.

Tries.
You have no idea,
How many times we've failed yet-

To.
We should not try, we should do.
To keep the old, to strive for the new.

Never.
We will never surrender,
In the face of hope or never ending sorrow.

Give.
We have to accept the others that share our cause
The ones that help us, the ones who support us.

Up.
We will rise up,
Above the ashes.
A quick nonsensical one.
Grace Haak Sep 5
Your words put out my passionate fire
You ignore my calls of lust
Your breath ***** in all thoughts of desire
And I'm left breathing in our love of dust.
I used to think you felt the same
But the dust now hardens to rock
Now I'm a broken, burning flame
And time is ticking on the clock.
You write me letters of your love
But it's full of lime and sour
I pray to heaven's hope above
That we can last just another hour.
But time is up, and so are we
The fire has reduced to ash
The smoke has cleared and it's easy to see
That you left me with an incurable ****.
Grace Haak Sep 2
OUR LOVE WAS LIKE SCATTERED SPARKS
THAT LIT UP LIKE LAVA LIGHT
BUT EVEN VOLCANOES OF PASSION DIE
AND I'M LEFT WITH STARLESS ASHES
THAT REMIND ME OF A LAVA LOVE
THAT ONCE ENGULFED THE NIGHT IN FLAMES
alexis Sep 2
they once called you beautiful,
with fire for hair,
a dangerous beauty
they called you
as you set the world ablaze
leaving ash in your wake.
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