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Midas turned what he loved to gold
I wish I could do the same
Instead my touch brings destruction

No matter what I hold
I find it always ends the same
Lovers, friends, any other

My destruction knows no bounds
I often wonder, did Midas feel this way?
Matthew May 13
He scrapes the floor boards with his bony toes
Rips the carpet with his jagged scythe
Is he Behind me or in Front of me?
Tell me
please.
...
I first remembered years ago,
At twenty-something,
Speeding along in a 240Z
With my father.
Apropos of nothing,
I suddenly remembered it all,
The pain, fear, chases
And flights up stairs,
Only to have her catch me,
And feel the pummeling fists
Like a mad horse’s hooves,
Treading me down.
Back in the present,
My father was admiring trees
As we buzzed past them,
Unaware of the storm beside him.
She wore him down too
In a different way,
With constant denigration.
Over the years I watched
As he shrank way to
A painful, infested brain.
Unlike me, he had no defense,
Loving her as he still did.
It was as if he chose cancer
instead of anger or rebellion.
I had raged against her
And stood tall from childhood
To the now, when thunderheads
Rose from me above her.
Long ago, she had been
The random bolts from the blue,
Causing pain but not killing.
Now I am the storm,
Gathering over years,
Sweeping up heat and vapor
Sending and receiving energy.
The lightning bolts are truth
And their pain is admission,
Though never bringing remorse.
I am the storm warning her to run,
While knowing that she never will.

Edited October 2, 2021
Gabriel Jan 20
two men at the water.
you've all heard the puzzle, right?
you have three wolves and three sheep
and you need to cross a river.
(any river. let's call it—
oh, i don't know. the baptismal
jordan.)

okay, so it's a little different.
one sheep who doesn't follow the crowd
and one wolf in the skin of his dead brother.
it still works, doesn't it?
(especially if they're in love.
let's say they're in love,
just for the sake of it.
let's let them be in love.)

if the sheep leaves the wolf behind
it's only because he was chasing the sun.
let's not blame him for chasing
the sun. let's make a terrible joke
about another son, and a father,
and a fire/sacrifice.
(let's put the sheep on the altar
and see how we can bleed him
for the machinations of another.)

let's give the wolf some big sad eyes
and a failed career
and a bad relationship with his family.
let's give him a longing
for teeth and blood but let's make him
only long for his own.
(let's string him up and get him to dance
for us. let's point and look and laugh
at the stupid little apex predator
cowering at the world.)

where were we?
oh, right. baptism.
well, that's an easy one, isn't it?
call up the sun,
and burn it—
burn it? are you sure?
yes. he's sure. so we're sure,
aren't we?
(but isn't that a rebirth?
can you baptise a phoenix?)

(no. but isn't it world class
entertainment to watch the flames
turn to ash
right beside the water?)
quick little thing i wrote about... well let's not say what it's about. let's save my pride.
My Dear Poet Jan 7
A little green grew
in the grey and grey blue
in a world that was dusty and dark
in the form of a flower
with colours to devour
that could turn a city into a park
But the crowd passing by
in the black and black tie
hardly took the time or knew
through the crack in the strife
the hues and colours of life
blossoming beneath their shoe
yet stretching out its wild leaves
with a beauty to please
It was a sad, sad trample amidst the scuffle
the busy people passing by
who would not raise an eye
wondered “what scent was so, so wonderful?”
but the crushed fragrance blown
was all that was known
though they knew not what it was
for they’d never seen
that little, little green
it’s just the smell they now speak of
TheGardenOfWords Dec 2021
Bones decayed
Muscle & skin flayed

Near decade long agony endured
Endless wait for no remedy procured

Persons laugh and gibe
Hellions unable to repent or apologize

Lovers leave or never give a chance
"Meeting you was an unfortunate circumstance"

21 years of life lived
Nothing but difficult and destructive
Thought my first proper poem on here should be about myself
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