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Gabriel Aug 2020
With every resistance,
remember –
how everything was choked
back into your mouth
when you were a baby bird
and the barricades
were not yet burned.

When you,
with aching gaze
watch the Joan of Arc torches
purge their way
up the winding acres
of stolen wood;
call yourself to Dunsinane
and wait there.

***** up your own feathers
and try to fly –
strip yourself of ash;
pretend that your fragility
is a stepping stone
to becoming a phoenix.

Inhale smoke
and watch the revolution
burn beneath your broken body,
your flightless bones
crushed to mothers’ milk,
countless choking coughs
coming up; down again.

Sing;
drown out the inevitable,
and choke;
with beautiful sounds
of death drawing acid
up your cartilage;
revolutionaries flee
the barricades, the fire,
whilst you beg
for what you have lost
to be choked back into you again.
Something I wrote for a first year university creative writing class.
Anne Aug 2020
Oh flightless seabird,
I think you are lovely.
Mouth unfed,
feathers untethered.
Sitting pretty on the creek,
friends and families tasting the blue.
No wind under your feet,
not yet.

They think fondly of you,
seabird.
That’s a choice they’re allowed to make.
The higher they fly, the further away you become.
The weakest love you,
pity turns to self love.
At least they can fly,
at least they’re not alone.

You know better,
my seabird.
I saw you,
and so I knew you.
Easy.
It is you and you alone who grins at lilac kisses,
melts the silver sparks.
Sour grass midnight and
rusted dawns alike agree that you see,
therefore you are.

Flightless seabird,
We’re looking back with glass eyes.
You are here,
and you are loved.

You are not alone.
Dali Jul 2020
let it be night
let me see those eyes
And oh, the spark in his eyes
Would shame those stars
Owl’s deep hooting at night
Deep as his natter about life
Birds dancing in gale
Did we wake them?
Or was it the nightingale
Let us dance like those birds think it were not night
And let me lay
Upon your soft skin
As I watch your eyes
Like they were one of those stars
O, my dear my love
Did you feel the fast thud of my heart?
Hammering, pounding wanting to be out
And a touch of yours would calm me through the night
ria Jul 2020
When my kid asks me:
Mama, where were you when the coronavirus pandemic hit?

Well, sweet child, mama was out there exploring the world. I climbed mountains, sailed seas, and fought pirates. Mama was a warrior. She was a healer. She was something else. Mama was making history.

Really, Mama?

No, baby.

I stayed inside trying to finish schoolwork. I put together every puzzle at least 3 times. I ate the same meal twice a week. Baby, mama was robbed. Mama never saw her friends, mama never went to prom, mama never fought a pirate.

Was that all, mama?

No, love.

People died. Too many people, too many people died. We were too stupid, we were too busy, we were ignorant, love. We were destructive, we were killers of our own kind. We were monsters, love.

But, sweetheart...

Yes, mama?

There was beauty in it. Such beauty. We died so the world could live. Flowers bloomed, fish swam, and nature thrived. We could feel the sunshine, we could feel the rain, we could hear the birds, sweetheart. It was beautiful.

Weren’t you scared, mama?
Weren’t you lonely?

My child, yes, I was once. I was scared and I was lonely, but I learned something, my child. In fear, nothing grows. In isolation, there is solitude. But In hope, we flourish. In solitude, we find peace.

My child, my sweet child, we were just beginning to awaken.
Now, we’ll never sleep again.
Amanda Hawk Jul 2020
The sky goes for miles
ocean full of floating clouds
birds are diving fish
Hussein Dekmak Jul 2020
What makes the sun so magnificent?
What drives the moon to appear so gorgeous?
What compels the stars to twinkle in the night sky?
What stimulates the flowers to smell so delightful?
What causes the butterflies to flutter so elegantly?
What inspires the birds to sing so joyfully?
What makes the ocean waves dance so gracefully?
What aspires Mother Nature to be so captivating?
What prepares a person to be so enchanting?
It is a whisper of love!

Hussein Dekmak
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