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Parker Vance Feb 24
There's a certain wraith
in the cleaning of kitchens
scrubbing of floors
ringing of towels til
the fingers puff up
and bleach seeps
beneath your fingernails.

There's a certain wraith
to all these quiet burdens.
Parker Vance Mar 3
I take off my summer skin,
peel back bronzed afternoons
and cleave through
those muggy mornings
you were still here

but not for long.
Parker Vance Feb 23
I've been collecting words
for years- cataloguing

feral and oblivion, catharsis and
iridescence. I keep gusto

in the drawer beside my bed.
I put visceral next to the broken

mirror you left. I've hidden marrow
next to vastness as if they are mine

alone. See how they slip out of me
like a ****** nose at just the wrong time.
Parker Vance Feb 23
The word of God
Is neon now-
It screams odious
Love to the silent
Collection of limbs
Beneath it.

Iridescence
Falls in irradiated
Waves, reaches the
Sedate, the wanderers
Of Asphalt Nightmares,
At last.

They can hardly hear it
Over the mumble of voices.
They shift, leave by way
Of saturated, naked streets
Steeped
In weariness.

The new God is
Neon- but all the same
Unheard; It's violent lights
Looking to the morally
Righteous; finds
No one.
Parker Vance Feb 22
The mechanism of my body is ticking away the moments:
clinical seconds, dehydrated hours, years washed too clean.

The orbit of my ribs makes its rounds with momentous clicking
felt as a ripple- a forte into seizure.

There's something industrial in the alignment of these organs:
A factory of ventricles straining against the assembly line.

I'm a blood clock, tragic motor; I'm an organism
too mechanical to hold.

With a liver like a coal burner and lungs to expel the smoke,
how can I find a way back to being human.
Tyler Stoner Dec 2020
What lurks unknown in fearful fraughted towns
It flits in shadows watching silently
With dire eyes and looming eight feet tall
The birdman waits for you to walk alone
He slowly stalks his prey throughout the night
And never moves unless it’s back is turned
At first you’ll notice him just up the street
But by that time it will have been too late
You walk but when you turn around again
His owl-like face the last sight that you’ll see
Victor D López May 2020
Hear my new haikus
Sonnets, free verse and blank verse,
At the link below.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7s-BIxHWTQ4
ms reluctance Apr 2020
The squall rousted the last of the roses,
a flutter amongst the mango blossoms.
The storm billowed with savage abandon,
a waterfall cascaded down the wall.
Lightning graffiti scrawled across the sky,
charcoal thunder rattled the fogged windows.

I held her trembling hand and stroked her back
as she leaped at the sound of every crack.
We breathed in rhythm — a steady tempo —
in-out, in-out, our tempest ritual.

He came to report a discovery
of roe while cleaning the rohu for lunch.
Spicy fritters added to the menu —
swift improvement to inclement weather.
NaPoWriMo Day 26
Poetry form: Blank Verse
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