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Alice Wilde Jul 2018
She was born of a forest
And rests her heart  
Shallow in pooled dreams
Dripping further than her tears
Falling to soft earth.

She eats rosed lilies
And pickled cattails
All while
Her footsteps leave no absence known
As her lithe nymph body melts into foliage.

And her arms permanently reach
Into the void of
All unknowable things.
Grasping at gossamer threads,
Like thoughts that can't be spun together.
To compensate for (A -Z)
     ineradicable alphanumeric
     character flaws (i.e. mutations
     of body or mind,)

     and avoid amass
sing wracking up vexatiously
     undesirable threatening class
action lawsuit against

     Matthew Scott Harris,
     which preliminary measure
     taken to avoid disembarrass
sing said individual as

     a majorly flawed individual
literal shortcomings of body,
     mind and spirit,
     the metier of writing doth encompass

a creative realm to trump
     geomorphology, sans groundmass
at the unsolicited expense
     (mine alter ego i.e. worst critic)

     will gleefully find,
     and expose grammatical,
     misspelling, spelling,
     et cetera errors to harass

glommed together with isinglass
hop, skip and jumping
     to appear as a *******
whereat no respect

     able collegiate lass
would give a fig about me,
     one totally tubular royal morass,
which expert anthropologists

     stumped asper nonclass
     if eye able ****
     sapiens mutant ninja turtle
case in point being his

     wanting in height not e'en pass
     sing the six foot mark
     plus mental illness
     perhaps traceable to

     besotted cognitive damage
     inherited predecessors
     quaffing an overdose of quass
made obvious peering at resulting

     Ct scan results viewed
     via microscopic spyglass
revealing abnormal amygdala
automatically designating
     his aptitude underclass
among average human
     with mettlesome Zeusian brass.
Thomas EG Jun 2018
The permanence of the effect of our existence and actions terrifies me. This contemporary mood swings both ways, however. My love for love outweighs and overthrows my need for food, for sleep, for air to breathe... And you, I am in awe of... My eyes do not see anything else. My heart does not desire anything else. Forever blinded by pretty girls, my naïve eyes and thoughts are focused on you. My naïve heart beats just for you. I am way too full-on, far too all-at-once, but you admire that about me and I deeply, deeply admire you.
Clearing out my drafts
~June 2nd
Mary-Rose H Jun 2018
How the sunlight throws textured shadows on forested mountainsides.

Frost that clings onto windows, curling into icy, sharp rosettes.

The way clouds glow electric white in a soft summer sky.

How music can unfurl or burst or soar or stagger or peal or boom from people's mouths in a vast spectrum.

Sparks that flutter sky-high off a fire.

The way the ocean ripples or roars, blending its ever-contradicting nature into harmonious beauty.


There is so much breathtaking beauty in this world that I just can't help
but live in
wonder
.
Andy Felix May 2018
Lighting strikes and hits a spot
How we like it, like it a lot
Be a healer, bleed the rain
Bringing pleasure, away with the pain
All night alright
Shock and awe in the moon light
Over and over, we could be much closer
Electrify, feel the shock
All around like the hands on a clock
Current through you
Feel the bliss
Radiate forever let me treat you to this
A song i wrote for extreme lovers
Mary-Rose H Apr 2018
Stars that glimmer in a velvet sky,
sprinkles of colour dotting spring trees,
rivers galloping down mountainsides,
endless open stretches that beg to be run across with wild abandon,
heavy air hanging amidst thick trees, which shelter unseen creatures mere feet away,
infinite, firm, immovable ranges topped with glittering snow,
sun-streaked and sparkling oceans, smoothly beckoning or foaming with reckless passion.

When did we start shuttering our wide eyes,
closing out all but thin strips of our world’s breathtaking beauty?
How can anyone bear to be so readily sightless of this magnificence?
Maybe if we threw open the blinds
and bathed in the artistry of our Earth,
we wouldn’t be so irresponsible with it,
wouldn’t allow ourselves to be complicit in its devastation.
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