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Daisy Ashcroft Sep 2020
Too much algae in a lake
Or rotten leaves in a puddle
They keep me awake
Evertrapped in this bubble
Of worry and exhaustion
Loneliness and doubt
I swim and they churn
And I can't get out
I can't get out
I can't get out of the grave I'm in
Is this really how it's always been?
Doesn't matter now; I've nothing to do
Except claw at the leaves and hope I get through.
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
by Michael R. Burch

Your fingers end in talons—
the ones you trim to hide
the predator inside.

Ten thousand creatures sacrificed;
but really, what’s the loss?
Apply a splash of gloss.

You picked the perfect color
to mirror nature’s law:
red, like tooth and claw.

I thought about titling or subtitling this one “A mini-ode to manicure” but thought better of it. Please note that this poem is not about female predators but the way the human race “glosses over” its predatory nature. We may appear to be “civilized” but what are we doing to the planet and its other inhabitants? Keywords/Tags: polish, nails, talons, claws, predator, gloss, loss, red, tooth, claw, pollution, climate change, global warming, mass extinction, genocide
Bluebird Mar 2020
what a thing you are
what a creature you make

your shadow
is alive and
it's got a claw
hooked under my chin and
i can still feel it
weeks after you leave

can you make me alive?
can you please stay alive for just a little longer?
never think that no one cares
Yanamari Feb 2020
Claw at my chest
Raw flesh in my breath
Scream in the pressure of my tongue
Leave me be
For I am one.

Skin under my nails
Shrieking wails echo against
The walls of my brain
Leave me be
For I can barely handle one.

Dark room
Silent room
Empty room
With the exception of me
For I am one.

I am one;
So why is human nature
Burdened by the need for more?
In my desire for nothing more, that is what I have achieved, nothing more. Sans feelings, sans beauty, sans life. And yet life ensues.
Serendipity Feb 2020
There is no hesitation
to pick up bird feathers
from off the ground,
and heal an angel's
broken wings.
But there is a pause
before we reach a hand
to the broken claw
of a demon.
Tell me now,
Are they both not in need of saving?
Bhill Jan 2020
distraction can touch
touch in manners that are not familiar
memory claws will reach out
touching with thoughts forgotten
past awareness may re-enter
making effort to build on those remembrances

Brian Hill - 2020 # 28
What is your distraction?
Marri Nov 2019
I claw at my skin,
The blood seeps out,
And it feels good.

I claw at my arms,
The blood creeps out,
And it feels sweet.

I claw at my chest,
The heart beats out,
And it feels alive.

The blood seems to wash away the pain.
The blood seems to leave a different stain.

I long to feel.
I want to feel.

Not sadness,
Not happiness,
Just feel.

The torn skin understands me.
The broken heart listens to me.
The blood is there for me.

And it feels beautiful.

It feels destined:
My pain and I.
The blood mixed with the tears I cry.

It's love at first sight,
That first draw of blood.
The skin under my nails,
The blissful feeling of release.

Only you can make me feel like this,
And I love it.
Anne J May 2019
Claw my big heart out
String my organs to a big tree
Break my ripped neck out
The second haiku for my project
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