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Colorful bubbles dissolve
into dreary mist.
Feral dragons soar,
rise from the bottomless pit.
Gargoyles and vultures
shroud the sepulchral sites.
As I yearn for memories
of lucid times.
Aluminum toy soldiers
stumble upon fractured moors.
The white lady's bellow
I rue once more.
Echoes of sirens
fade in a deserted valley.
Blank stares of yesteryear
perish at stardust alley.

©Martin D Angelus [2019]
Juana Díaz, Puerto Rico
That bore stare
at my condemned existence,
such vain entity, ghoulish puppet,
pathetic mannequin I have become.
No words can adequately describe
the vague sentiment,
the desolate nights,
the adulation that corrupts
my distraught soul.
There I seek comfort, such pity,
in my own infatuation.
What cruel lies have I told myself?
Where are those vanquished dreams
I had as a child?
The good samaritan has vanished,
left astray by vanity and pompous affairs.
A ghoul of an opening scene,
impeccably dressed for one last act.

©Martin D Angelus [2019]
Juana Díaz, Puerto Rico
It's an odd process.
First, it's ringing.
That buzz in your ear,
It won't go away,
Until you concede.

So what's the harm.
You concede.

When you concede,
You feel ignorance.
But you concede,

Once more, you say,
What's the harm?

You concede day after day,
Because surprisingly,
You like it.
The Moth climbs the ranks,
In your mind.

You're oblivious,
But there is no harm.

The ringing is good,
You see that now.
The ringing is yours.
When they concede,
You spread The Moth.

The Moth does not belong to you.
The Moth belongs to everybody who hears it.
This is the first poem I've ever written. I wouldn't mind some honest criticism so feel free to tell me how to improve my technique
Tommy Randell Jan 22
Too many Poets dumbing down!
Look, I know its tempting
To just get stuff out,
To get your feelings up on the screen
Poetry is only more than what is said
If it says what it means?

Too many Poets thumping it out!
As if what's written
Doesn't have to mean anything at all.
When I read a poem I want emotion,
I don't want to think of the poet on a toilet
Just getting on with their daily motions!

Too many Poets shuffling synonyms!
Does all free speech have to be condoned,
As if everything said is a tamper-free zone,
As if anything on a page makes you part of the Tribe?
Like Fight Club, the Poet has to be about more than the poet -
Too many Poets just strutting their vibe.
I'm sure i read this somewhere or it was perhaps taught me in some context. That for a poem to be a poem 3 things should be there.

1) It must be about more than one thing, metaphorical in some way.
2) The voice of the poem should be discernible from other poets and be an interesting way of seeing.
3) It shouldn't be ultimately pointless and/or incoherent.

I know that's a 'hard' view of poetry BUT as a starting out point, a basic 'intent' if you like, it's good practice. Rhyme, meter, form etc can all be argued about but ...
Katie V-W Jan 20
I will not be judged by my writing so I refuse to make writing.
I will be judged for not writing.

I will be judged.
Issachar Bacang Nov 2018
polemics flies
and lands messily
on both sides

the drone of speech
and rhetoric
never worth the while

what use is this discord
when we refuse to shoulder

part of our weight in
pushing the titan's boulder?
should he fail
our bickering
will be crushed
along with us
Enigma Sep 2018
Success never came without critique & hate
No matter friend or foe, they'll close down their gate.
The smile will turn into a smirk
The eyes will change into a lurk
Some may even walk on to the other side
But that's when you'll know you're doing it right
Your light maybe blinding to some
and some may even turn to ash
but don't give heed to the glare,
whispers and oh all the gnash.

Dance on your victory, you've made them so proud,
the ones who love you; so bring down the shroud;
of darkness and dullness & shout out to call,
your strength and beauty that some may appal.
Cause' you are a diamond that shines oh so bright,
but some may not see it,
so why don't you guide.
Cause' you've got it right
So stand tall with pride
Cause' you are the light
and you shine so bright.

Feel free to express your thoughts.
Moments Before Jul 2018
They love the metal
More than the laughter
Blue fades from the sky
Red lifelines run high
Holding on to white bars
Gun spirits won't die
Bloodstains on a field of stars
Tears roll from my eyes
They love the powder
The smell of smokes curl
Mom's love their children
Reading that last text from their
Baby girl "don't cry"
They love the
The status and valor
Dad loved his son to death
And buried him next to grandma
They love the power
Full action
Machine God-given Sputter
Reporters console the grieving families
One after another
They love the Second Amendment
Closer than marriage
On a scroll that they worship
Rebrand and misinterpret
Some sad excuse nationalists
They think they are a patriots
Blue red and white
Sister lost her closest friend
To America's discharge
Guns for the fight
Against the innocent
We have lost the will
We have hit rock bottom
Brother dear brother
Stars fall from the half flags
How many dead?
Seems Gun spirits won't die!
Cause they love their
Hot Metal...
As much as cold bodies.
Those that feel the pull and feel the responsibility to their fellow human beings aside from our country will rise to the occasion. Laugh in the face of ignorance. No more tiptoeing and pandering to apologists. Everyone has an idea of how others should live. We need to draw the line at pain.
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