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Angel form of angel bells
Knell to the springtime of our love
Forebear to the summer heat ensue
Requite endure of somas delight
Feracious profundity verdurous express
The unct of skin and alls impress
From angels hearth of arch and tecture
I speak to you of perfecture
For if this bodies embrace wrapped in skin
Holds a heart that's true
Then let me see form of your face
And be with our love due
In the above poem the word 'arch' is pronounced as the word 'arc' following the form of the word 'architecture' thus complementing the phonetic flow of the poem's prosody:  the intention, if there is such a thing, is for the word 'arch' to carry the word associations of that particular word whilst carrying the phonetic form of the word 'arc' and thus carrying forthwith word associations of this particular word - it's all in the architecture...
Safana Aug 2020
Ring the Bell
Ring it, well
Ring the Bell
can see, a skell
from dry well
They sight it well
A wealthy kvell
spell it and yell,
*
Ring the Bell
And paupers
           yawningly mispell
Bcause,
           They can see not well
They said:
           Blood well instead farewell

Ring the Bell
Everyone is unwell
The tears is upwell
No tasty, they smell
All sadness are swell
And hungry is quell

Ring the Bell
Again,
          Difficulties swell
          No one to dwell
          For a bit on snell
          Uphill is upswell

Ring the bell
And,
Ring it well!
Be alert and alert everyone to help those needy ones everywhere in this world.
Anais Vionet Jul 2020
So
hot
cute
smart
cuddly
Dances
attentive
seductive
accessible
Sy­mpatico
intoxicating
mesmerizing
college bound
straightforward
smart as a whip
eager to please
always on time
100% truthful
pleasurable
enthralling
incredible
*******
funniest
gen­tle
sweet
****
soft
fun
some observed boyfriend qualities in a humorous bell curve shape
Michael R Burch Feb 2020
Listen to me now and heed my voice;
I am a madman, alone, screaming in the wilderness,
but listen now.

Listen to me now, and if I say
that black is black, and white is white, and in between lies gray,
I have no choice.

Does a madman choose his words? They come to him,
the moon’s illuminations, intimations of the wind,
and he must speak.

But listen to me now, and if you hear
the tolling of the judgment bell, and if its tone is clear,
then do not tarry,

but listen, or cut off your ears, for I Am weary.

*

Published by Penny Dreadful, The HyperTexts, the Anthologise Committee and Nonsuch High School for Girls (Surrey, England)

Also published by Michael R. Burch writing as Immanuel A. Michael and Kim Cherub

Keywords/Tags: Listen, heed, prophet, crying, wilderness, voice, prophecy, black, white, gray, moon, wind, speak, speaking, speech, instruction, teaching, warning, omen, illuminations, intimations, ears, hear, judgment, bell, toll, tolling, peal, pealing, tone, I, Am

Note: The poet as a “madman, alone, screaming in the wilderness” is likened to John the Baptist, foretelling a momentous “second coming”: his own, with no other Messiah in sight.
Abby M Jan 2020
I often wander past her gallows
And feel a sympathetic twinge
At glints of sun on growing rifts
I long to hear her sing

My fingers itch to hold the mallet
Molded to her brazen form
A tongue, once ripped from quiet lips
It rests, with ears, unworn

If treasured glance is counted higher
Than the purest ringing note
Then may she hang still, gagged in silence
“To Liberty!”, I quote
James Daniel Nov 2019
Bell
Always by side
You’ve guarded my heart
For so long

I remember going busking
With you
Outside the supermarket
And I dropped you at my feet
And the homeless guy
Smiling at me

And when
I went to that place
The made bed
And Red light
The smiling girls
And I sang Valerie
And walked out
Passed the guard
Following me out
Cigarette in the street

We were all unmade
And I still am

You’ve guarded my heart
I believe

You said I’m worth a chance

The gates open and close behind me

Now I’m moving
It’s time to use my feet
Each other we’ll still see
I’m going out into the world
Make believe
Enas Sep 2019
She is but stardust

written across the skies

of haze and wanderlust

with wayfarer soul eyes.

Like ultraviolet rays,

she cannot be seen,

she reaches in waves

shinning in dark scenes.

Wish upon her,

this shooting star;

gaze upon her,

a celestial bell jar.
Jay M Sep 2019
All are dancing slowly
This masquerade
A gala
Yet
All is in great discord
Among the orchestra
One is out of tune
Yet
None seem to care
To hear the broken melody
See the chip in the stone

Cover it up
With a little paint
None shall tell
Besides the meek little pup
Soon it shall faint
One shall yell
While the rest
Ring, ring, ring the bell
Dancing in discord
To the broken melody

Pulling out a flask
‘Neath the rows
Folk chatter and ask,
“Isn’t something off?”
While the other throws,
“Neigh!” then one does quaff

Shine a light
Alone the floor
Hold one tight
For one shall sing no more
Grasp it
So one may not fall
That she would not permit
Not a’tall

Sing, sober dream
Whisper your whims
Through a beam
On a limb
The lullaby
Child doth cry
Sing, sober dream
Sing, sing,
For ‘tall must end
One day.

- Jay M
September 12th, 2019
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