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I S A A C Apr 2022
lavender, lilac, and strawberry
I taste energy like yours rarely
make my cheeks redder than cherry
you have an essence, it is a blessing
you taught me lessons, such a blessing
I thought I was unlovable you showed me the contrary
make me sing like the giddy canary
was too used to solitary
read my feelings like a library
Deep Feb 2022
Take a gun
And shoot the one holding
the contrary view, with sword
Slice head and torso in two,
If that is not enough, dig graves and
bury them alive, dig it again give them
momentary light and life, then bury again,

Your view and perception are perfect,
you should not allow others to contradict you?
Nadia Sep 2019
Tell me what to do
So I can do the opposite

Tell me what I want
So I know I don’t want it

Tell me what to say
I’ll find my voice another way

Tell me what’s right for me
I’ll find out what left for me

I don’t know what I like
Until I know what I don’t like

Tell me what to think
What to drink, what to wear

Tell me that I don't care,
That I can’t spare the time

Tell me what I don’t need
And where not to go

Tell me what I don’t want -
I really need to know

NCL September 2019
ogdiddynash Jul 2019
majestic adjectives of contrary harmonies,
adverbs in adversity that modify our satisfactions,
gut punch our eyes, scramble the taste buds,
now inoperable, incapacitated to distinguish
what is disturbed - what is sweet - what is impossible.
my days ending is nearer to my god than thee,
the crumblings of what I’ve got left,
stale panko crumbs,
here come they in 1000 radium-tipped projectiles of
serious humorous self-destruction,
gifted to you few itinerant followers
brave enough to follow me into the deeps of
radioactive incomprehension,
in no particular disorders
a thousand times
Madeline Harper Sep 2018
Gladly, gladly
Sadly, I will go
Slowly, death valley
To reap what I sew

Ache, awake-
The sun is setting low
Break-bind stake
Bury me in the snow

To lament, to forget,
Sever all your ties
Complied threats: mere regrets
Masked in perfect lies

Gladly, gladly,
Madly- to and fro
Sadly, badly
Find me in the snow.
I might try to build onto this later. Please let me know your thoughts!
Trying to tap telegrams
On the back of my iphone
In a faux leather seat
In the back of my mothers car.
Anyone will tell you I have a
For the contrary
And there’s strangely no argument,
Where I got it from.
The seat belt sits uncomfortably across my throat,
Stopping my words,
A space formerly only occupied by her gaze,
Though my future career may benefit,
My current psyche does not.
ms reluctance Apr 2018
Some girl I never knew
knew an art that wasn’t kung fu.
She did not whistle well
when her peaches didn’t sell.
And a boy I never liked
loved her not at first sight.
He kissed her on a day it didn’t rain
never to lay eyes on her again.
Nary a soul whispers her name,
nary a heart feels any shame.
She was pretty not so long ago,
this girl I will never know.
NaPoWriMo Day 25
Poetry form: Ambiguity
Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
Everything he says
Comes out backward.
Nothing about him
Is really straightforward.
It’s like he came here
From Bizarro World.
Both of the forks
Of his tongue are curled.

He makes our lives
Like a lower rank of hell.
You won’t want to buy
A single thing he sells.
You can figure out
This reptilian guy
Just expect everything
He says to be a lie.

If he says it’s a nice day
Run for your umbrella.
At all possible costs
You should avoid this fella.
And if you know someone
Who tells you he is nice
Run as fast as you can
From them, take my advice.

He has never been honest
He has never even tried.
You’ll quickly lose count
Of the times he has lied.
If you think for a second
That he cares about you
Believe me when I say
It just cannot be true.

Because the only person
This guy loves is himself
And he doesn’t give a ****
About anybody else.
Not his family, nor his wife
Please be a believer.
In truth, he doesn’t really
Love himself either.

His whole world is backward,
What he hates describes him.
He tells about how he is
So handsome and slim.
But actually he’s a tub of lard
And socially quite awkward.
But he doesn’t realize it.
He is, after all, himself:
Mister Backward.
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