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Kim Essary Apr 2018
Who made these rules and words we speak, the decision of good and evil defines as the laws of gravity , what goes up must go down.  Where there is life there to will follow in death . Even the flowers that bloom wither away with time , soil begins to mold as the waters drip from the sky and the sunshine heats the world . Opposites attract and love and hate. Who made these rules we crave . Heaven to hell, right and left, sinners and saints , to rich and poor who made these rules we say
Rules are made to be broken but who really defines these rules
Jesha Mar 2018
Did he kiss it a kiss he never kissed me,
With lips and tongue, bitter and hard?
Or was it a peck on the jaw, right under the chin,
Hot skin meeting cold metal?
Definitely not a lover’s caress of the temple
For he was no more stupid than sentimental.

Blood and brain guts
Pollocked across the sheets
Soaking into the unfinished headboard–
Drops of ruby peppering the walls–
Eyes vacant, like ***** dishwater

A kiss from you would have been a gun to my lips–
Perhaps I dodged a bullet
When you decided to love yourself more than me.
Terry Collett Oct 2017
It was evening; skies had darkened
to that blackened blue.

You entered the common room
where I sat, and said the abbot said
I could come the following September
along with two others, to try our
vocations in the abbey.

Twenty four years later
I saw you last: you aged,
having cancer, but still your
cheerful holy self; I now married
with six children of my own
as my vocation, pained
to see you aged and ill.

You said nothing of yourself,
but asked of the family
and wife and how I was
in self and spirit.

I never saw you again;
you died months before
I came again; dark afternoon
with hints of rain.
On a monk and friend
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2017
Othello, your pearl!
Don't let it slip from your hands.
Into another.

Deceive, Iago
For what you claim not to weave
A spindle of death.

Don't, Desdemona!
Don't fear the fault of your star!
Nor the fruits of death.

The sweet strawberries
Upon sheets of white and black,
run from Orange fate.
Othello is one of my alltime favourite plays. One of many gothic classics that I can relate to in many ways.
It's been a while since I wrote some haikus too!
Aurora Dec 2014
You'll be the third perfect face I've seen in a coffin
When all I should be seeing is wrinkles

The world is a harsh place

— The End —