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Mark Toney Oct 2019
A well-groomed matador José
Liked to moisturize with Oil of Olay
His hands lost their grip
The cape it did slip
He was gored as he cried out "¡Olé!"
6/12/2018 - Poetry form: Limerick - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Khoi-San Aug 2018
The black southeaster peaks
Mothers rain down on dead kids
Criminality and gangsterism rule
In this crack infested cesspool
Blood moon's rising on the Cape flats
The tide must turn or the place
Will burn
A sad true Story
The police must patrol 500 people to1 officer
In some areas while our lives and the lives
Of our children is under constant threat
Whilst the politicians debate over deploying
The army the community is currently protesting on our streets in defying
Gangsterism these protests are knife-edged

The black southeaster is a freak weather pattern that brings heavy rain and extreme winds that often causes havoc on the Cape flats blood moon is when the full moon passes through earth's darkest shadow it
usually displays a reddish colour
Written by Khoi San 29/08/2018
Arcassin B Aug 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

never done this,
this is different,let me put my cape on,
I am gifted,
flying til I locate,
All your love babe,
flying til I get to you.

kissing til the night ends,
You love the time we spend,
looking at the watch love,its time to go,
you say no baby please stay,
don't want to be alone,
let me take you on a tour,

never done this,
this is different,let me put my cape on,
I am gifted,
flying til I locate,
All your love babe,
flying til I get to you.


If I had more ***** then , I would made the first move,
People at my throat then , didn't have much to say,
If I ever got a hold of ya', while not being a fool,
But not talking to you in my head is the price I have to pay,
have to pay.
what is there to say?

If I would have fought for what I wanted, she wouldn't believe,
Knowing life is **** in absolute , It always is strange,
rhymes in my notebook is all I have in memory,
Of the things that got in front of me to get to you , I feel the pain,
Feel the pain.
My heart is so slain.
Vexren4000 Oct 2017
A cap a cover,
A clover a clever chipmunk,
Closer than cold climbs,
Caverns of Cretaceous-era caves,
And caring coddlers,
Calming Children,
That Lost their favorite caps.

Often yet not frequent,
I'd see this young delinquent,
An exact image of whom I were most recent,
So to say that I stare at my past thus avoiding myself at that instant.
That very moment,
Ne'er ought I insinuate that my thoughts were so constant,
And the actions thereof were so persistent,
to stem that I were too naïve and reluctant,
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• •••••
I smell fear and mediocrity,
A custom made identity,
Whose motive is hypocrisy,
But shattered visions surely die;
And dreams are battered through a cry,
Its meaning stands a mystery,
As if it were but one big lie,
I stare at this delinquent through that foggy window's eye.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• •••••

Amidst the abyss I hear his accent.
The voice of a believer whose innocence could fly,
But they clipped his wings because their arrogance had left them stagnant,
Closed minded individuals who lacked to imply;
This was the coming to his emancipation out of imprisonment,
Of being disallowed the privilege to try,
Sadly these spectators were Incompetent and Complacent,
Who forced the world to remain gullible to fortify.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• •••••

So I stare as he drown himself in the disbelief that he will never cease the moment.
Due to the horrible fact that his chances were denied by a corrupt system,
Despite him filled with talent and wisdom,
Ignored potential as an aborted infant;
I heard the echo of that infant's gentle cry,
And imagined it sleep so peacefully,
Its origin were to me a mystery,
A beauty this world could never deny.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• •••••

But eventually they'd want it to die;
As if they were driven by jealousy,
Deriving through each century,
Owning each man with a close minded mentality.
We never regret being insubordinate,
but she has room for those torn apart,
despite their hearts so full of hate.
Their tears are the hurts of the heart.

They cry not knowing,
she is watching, listening,
concerned of their well-being,
while they're busy scheming;

Her seeds are all planted,
but haven't all blossomed.
Her streets all connected
but paths are divided...

Though there's lights that always burn,
there's a thousand souls who mourn.

But she cries for those who hurt her,
and loved them like a mother.

Still we lacked to love her fully,
with three hearts like an octopus;
once she were three times a lady.
We love her enough, the haven for us,

Though infested by ***** rats,
and all seem like, a big mistake there's,
so much hope inside  Flats...

Despite our flaws of being torn apart,
We never regret being insubordinate.
Nick Moser Mar 2017
I am no super hero.

I can't save others from despair.
I can't save my heart from falling and crashing and burning and breaking every single time.
I couldn't save my father.
Or my mother.
Or my grandmother...

I can't even save myself.

But before you deem me an unworthy adversary,

Could you please just leave me the cape.

I'd like to keep putting it on,
And keep playing super hero.

Because one day,
Maybe just one day,

I'll learn how to fly.
And I'll learn how to save the World.
I'm no superman.
Mysidian Bard Jan 2017
I, too, was once a man
in search of guiding light.
Hopeless, lost, alone
and ready to give up the fight.

When a helping hand reached out,
unencumbered by my weight
and took it upon themselves
to pull me from Hell's gate.

Self sacrifice; a virtue
that I would someday know
to be the shelter that I found
beneath the cape of my hero.

Confide in me, my darling;
I'll be your great escape.
It was written in the starlight
that I would don the cape.
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
I laid my head down last night to rest
I started feeling quiet distressed
For the voices did transgress
Screaming "your life is such a mess"
Making my brain feel like an abscess
In my memory I start to regress

Leaving me in a cold sweat
Trying to live my life is like playing roulette
The wheel I spin
But I never win
All I can think of is all the regret
How my soul is now only a silhouette

Finally asleep
Though not to keep
My nightmares start to creep
My memories start to leak
Showing why I'm the black sheep
The freak

This life is always causing me pain
It sifts through my brain
With my emotions it plays it's game
Is it God or the universe, are they the same

Is it chance or fate
That leaves me at this gate
I can't escape
There will be no hero in a cape

For in the dark, nightmares ensues
By day they still pursues
I pick up the pieces, I try to glue
All the time looking for a clue
b for short Nov 2015
Not my policy
to consider saving those
who stand on my cape.
© Bitsy Sanders, November 2015
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