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Vladimir s Krebs Feb 2019
In mind I feel like I have been suffocation all my demons I have trapped in my mind.as time goes love just seems to be so deeply  neglected. my many mistakes I made just seem to leave tears that can show your honesty to your heart. the music I'm listening to just seems to leave me feeling emotionally drained just like all the sadended lies you left me with. before you speak just tell me if can handle the emotional pain you cause me. if I could change my ways I would be normal just like the rest of society. everything I give to you day and night just seems like you don't care about me. all you do is stair at me like I'm blind many ways your words have. I told you again and again over and over just speak the truth bc your just hurting your self on the lies you are purseing. pretty soon you will run into your fate when all I asked is for you to tell me the truth. anything is possible. look at your self tell me who you truly see or who you truly are. love only becomes true when you just tell the truth. my heart just cryed when you have lied to me my fear is real but the music that I listen to just wraps around me injecting me with pain relief. this world is so scary when your not around me this world is so toxic society is  so dangeriously toxic everyone around me is toxic. what do we do when times runs out? where do we go where do we run. where will it be safe to play sleep or dream. I'm so tired of your dishonest lies so what me just pack up my stuff walk out the door while you sleep whatch me disappear threw thin air. I thought your voice was just lies. I'm losing my patiants  with everything you do that rips me apart.
Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
Hearts polished like porcelain
Shined so peers perceive no flaw
Then placed upon the shelf
Perfectly perched and priced
And in struts the buyer
Fresh from running with the humans
A mass of muscle, tail swaying slightly
Hooves as shiny as the horns
Brandishing upon its neck
A great ruby scarf
Won in a fierce and frantic fight
This is piece was inspired by the poem Bullfights and Lovers by the good poet BJ Donovan!!
Keith Mitchell Oct 2018
Imagining
Georgia O’Keeffe
Goddess
In her own right
Melting away
In a gas guzzler
Meditative escape pod
Disguised as a thermal barrier
Your mind is out there
You pay attention
Everything is Alien
Luna appears
Radiating Bull horns
Like a crescent moon
Balancing on the horizon
Magically moving along
The plane of the ecliptic
Maybe for a millisecond
Crab Nebula
Sneezed the brilliance
That caused the most beautiful
Reflection
That is you
Only the very lucky
Get to see
Black feather floating
Like a random propitious sign
From the heavens
I ******* love you
For showing me
Every forever is a
Second to enjoy
One Love

8/10/2018
Wrote this to inspire the painting in the back ground.
Arcassin B Oct 2018
by Arcassin Burnham

Sorry if I'm a little hard spoken on this poem,
But the ******* that i put up with for so many years got me
Clinching my fists and releasing my hate on the tree in the
Backyard where all the weights are, no point to recharge,
No point To be on guard,
**** this life and the people that tried to end mine,
Picking on my mental illness,
I can see the end around the corner.
Is it a crime to want to live in peace, no there no peace nowhere,
They say God doesn't put you through something you can not beat,
And while I'm torn between the fake and reality , I can not be.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/10/torn.html
Brandon Conway Oct 2018

A muleta drapes over my chest
the ripples pass through with the wind
while we dance around this dusty plaza de toros
eyes fixated
thinking you can gore mon coeur
ptui
I only give you the illusion of control
but in the end
it will be my estoc tongue that
pierces your flesh
between the shoulders
with crimson words
I am no novillero
cornada's in the past only strengthen the future
a porta gayola posed and ready
awaiting that ferocious charge
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
The devil sits at its zenith
Hell’s warmth embracing
a bead of sweat escapes
both the man and the beast
locked and circling
waiting
waiting
waiting
until one leaves alive
both man and beast
want to show their bravado
one charges
one waves and dodges
both smell death’s breath
a crimson river starts to flow
and the dance is repeated
until one sits on Charon's boat
or is pulled by death’s horses
but in this dance
both have tripped and fallen
death is overjoyed in the afternoon
the bull riders came
from near and far
to try and conquer
Chainsaw's elevated bar

he'd buck them off afore
the eight second crack
none would last upon
his awesomely built back

around the rodeo circuit
this bull had a legendary status
for beating they who'd do
battle with his feisty apparatus

the goading spur of rider
not disconcerting him
he'd show them that he
was ever potent in trim

of an immortal bovine
we'll never see again
so celebrate the elan
of Chainsaw's grain
Taylor Aebischer Jun 2018
Red in the eyes,
charging towards me.
This life has thrown many an obstacle,
but I always manage to move the cloth,
to attract it in a different direction.

I scave it off with a taunt,
hoping to delay the disaster.
Yet somehow it keeps running,
headlong in my direction,
ready to plow right through me.
Wrote this poem earlier this week. Uses the analogy of the bull to show how life throws its struggles at me.
hum...habit...hic...abbott woozy
celebrating with British Royal Family
     and...hub bout red dee
     to take a snoozy
sup...par'n...this poet
     fur...hib bit..bing a lil oozy.

Now this raggedy man
whilst deep in sleep
this past night what felt like galactic body
     fell upon ma slumbering heap
affecting immediate fear
     lest worst nightmare,
     would crush with might
but lo…just then zee spouse
     plunked herself
     with unconsciousness deep
unable to recapture pleasant dreams
     well nigh past day light.

So...rather than emit shrieks
     like some angry birds
the idea arose to attempt poem
     to express discombobulated state

whereby grey matter feels
     similar to thick whey curds
palliative sans restorative power
     per rest will clear muddled pate

thick with grogginess
     and marauding herds
of mailer daemons worse
     than unsuitable mate

or a world wide web filled with nerds
thus lethargy purged
     via catharsis with forming words
that follow rhyming pattern
     to convey mood = to a synonym for turds.

respite from a cat nap as tonic no lion here
can spell relief and serve as balm
with pillowed temptress ever near
beckons softly inviting calm

before this human
     goes a berserk manic tear
being revisited from haunts
     inside head of this scrivener
caught by men in white coats
     strait jacketing this maniac

     in tattered under wear
whose ***** by the way
     oh about the size of an average palm
yet taut for witnessing
     deux score plus eighteen mortal year.
Can't

I can't kiss ***
Must be something i ate in class
Or was it mother's scalding tongue
That'd scorch ya just for fun
Or maybe brother's saucy mouth
That'd shake ya 'til all the loot fell out
No I can't kiss ****
Can't figure out this stuff
You might call me a brat
Say I'm a loud whiskered alley cat
But it could be that bull in ****
Dying for just another hit
Whatever it is
I can't seem to kiss ***
And if I did now I'm done
Maybe it sounds crass
But god help me
I'm no good at kissin' ***
I might get hell for this
An
You might think I'm takin' the ****
But I just don't have that kinda class
I just can't
I  can't kiss ****
Can't is included in my collection The Situation@amazon books.....I grew up in an Irish family that was rather blunt in terms of saying stuff about others or situations outside of them.. However there were deeper feelings that were not talked about and it not that kosher to talk about. I'm learning to be more vulnerable and unashamed of expressing feelings that may be uncomfortable but important for me and for my relationships with others...Can't feels like an antidote to living part of my life without authenticity.
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