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Lady Ravenhill Feb 2019
Bundled in white coats
The skeletons look warm
Without their coats of leaves
© LadyRavenhill 2019
Haiku 75
Tana F Bridgers Apr 2018
Two Coats
     Home, in a closet somewhere, I have two coats. One is yellow, the other gray.
     Even if I wore the yellow, would I be warm? Perhaps others would prefer to see that color on me. It is so underappreciated, after all.
     Lo, but I am so used to the gray! I dislike wearing it, but its warm lining ushers me in, its routineness offers me stability. In this, I blend into the background. I slip silently under the radar.
     Perhaps, though, some will notice how often I switch from gray to yellow, and back. Often, what seems like only a single degree difference will make the coat I’m wearing seem dull.
     Most of the time, I long to don the bright color of yellow. But then again, I find it so difficult to pull on, so difficult to keep from slipping off. And perhaps the color is a bit too bright too match my demeanor?
     Every day, I wonder which. Some days, I wear yellow without worrying about the weather. Most days, I wear gray underneath, simply by habit.
     Is it better to have worn a coat, only to have to take it off, or to never have worn it at all? Honestly, I’m not sure myself.
     Maybe what makes up a poem is in the letters, not the words.
this is another old one... its also a little sad haha...
Donna Mar 2018
The sun is shining
Upon a pretty green hill
Horses wear warm coats
I saw horses in field today they look cosy and warm bless x
Sixteen years old
Another night
Another one
FADL guard*
She smiles
the leather belt
around the stomach
is tight
i can see
the sun set
through the window
with the lock
it hurts
in my heart
my cracked

I break down
in tears
and I tell her
about the assault
about the humiliation
that now
on the seventh day
to derive stools
in a parcel tray
in a flask
with both hands
in leather
by force
with anesthetics
denied all movement
Deprived of all freedom
deprived of all dignity

She smiles
while she
my hair
and softly whispers
the doctor is on his way ..
He's bringing anesthetics...
* FADL = danish union of medicinal studies, used to do graveyard shift at mental instituitions.
I see them walking down the street without me
All my footprints are covered by the snow
I don't know if they still care about me
If they do, it dosen´t show

The cold wind´s blowing and hits my exposed heart
I am walking faster carrying all my hopes
Despite the snow the road is getting very dark
They're fading into the background in those white winter coats

White coats, white coats
Why do you gotta leave me out in the cold?
White coats, white coats
This shield around me is getting hard to uphold
White coats, white coats
I'm just looking for someone to call my friend
Before the cold wind comes back again

I see them laughing on the corner without me
All my footprints are covered by the snow
Talking about places I´ll never go with them to see
And sharing secrets that I´ll never know

This is the coldest December we've had in years
They are huddled together under the lamppost
I walk away melting the ground with my tears
They don't feel my pain from the warmth of their white coats

White coats, white coats
Why you gotta leave me out in the cold?
White coats, white coats
This shield around me is getting hard to uphold
White coats, white coats
I'm just looking for someone to call my friend
Before the cold wind comes back again
This poem is about bullying.. Sadly I think most of us experience some form of bullying during our lives. This poem is for all of us.
Copyright @ Johanna Magdalena
Kevin Seiler Jul 2015
I walked into the room

*******.......on the coats

For Wustin Jampler
Lenore Lux Dec 2014
As fridge-rator to beer in the head between the ears adorned with flashy widgets with which to trap the hoes he hopes that he can pull into his poles. His gravity whips wide so hands find and feel up erthing that gots the tail, he wants to rail so hands out he walks and tilts to one side and back holding his glass. ******* limp around the rim, dipping his fingertips into the juice like he wants to dip into you, pinkies as he holds your head forcing you to **** like you want his come as much as he wants to come. Then when done zips up, runs out, "***** sayonara", switch rerun mode without emotion. He floatin. He floatin. He gloatin.

Head on the couch back making tired, one eye open scoping everyone's glow as they move, when up he comes sittin in my face, spittin what he thinks I want him to say, I'm like, "****, guy control that tongue, you spray like that always I'm afraid I won't take that wild ****, as tool is to you as to yo *****." Right ******* ****** spittin harder in the lean up perhaps the lead up to fist flung to react. "Man you too loose, I gotta tell you, I've got just what you do." "Your uh ******?" Man watch ya flavor of language, I got just enough ****** left to get hard and stomp you, heel first in boots bought to stomp, pre-emptive to deal with the bullwhip effect where first you droolin to **** me, then retract like a bowstring because my ***** resembles a ****. "What you want, *****? You wan **** this **** for real?" (For real?) He floatin. He floatin. He floatin the room, he ghosting.

Lick my lips, cept it's not a tongue. For this purpose it's strobe lights, in light show, and like snow, black and white between sheets of plastic TV screen on get settled into my flow, rip back and forth like prongs on a fork on your ******* blindfolded and scolded right angle, bent like an L-shape repenting for **** by taking the ******, flash cards, held up on headboards, trying to teach you metrics and standards lacking in you to tune you into the lifestream, no empathy and no tact to show, remember this hell well while you sail through life preying, I'm praying and making marks in meat coats. But he floatin. He floatin. He gloatin.
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