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Norman Crane Aug 2020
His lady Eve passed Adam the apple
in the garden of—even
though He had said: No you mustn't know
good and evil,
so serpentine she birthed the worm,
from a womb of innocence
and rebellion, as he in divine aphelion learned
of sinful inconsequence,
from within a cavity of snakes,
they took twin masquerade masks of death,
arcane and fabled, gold leaf and skeletal,
and laughed at the setting sun,
whose will be done—
to die for their mistakes,
the reptillian led them to their seats,
in a theatre of falling leaves,
front row of decay,
and crowned them gods and scientists.
But from their seats they could not rise,
for it was they were on the stage,
by wisdom caged,
as the snake hissed prophecy:
descendant crowns become collars,
and Eve wept,
tears of spiritual squalor,
       for all the unborn scholars,
choked into submission,
       by sin.
SomaSonata Aug 2020
I'm torn and wearing down
I'll leave your town without a sound
When the love is fading out
I'll crawl like a mouse
Out of sight and out of mind
It dampens my fire
***** it all out
Showdown
Low down
Go down
Smoldered and shouldered
I'll play the clown
Once the garden was green
The birds chirped and sang
The light of day nurturing
An aura of peace
Love and warmth and
Milk and sweetness
And golden honey
But a babe who twisted the rules
He played the keepers for fools
Always some trouble of playing with fire
From a prodigal son into a merciless liar
He promised and swore not to open that door
But the fruit was ripe and yet tempting
Like ambrosia of yore
Sweet and spellbinding
And barbed at its core
Taunted and haunted
Bound by a contract
And the roof came crashing down...
Marri Jul 2020
You take me to a field.
Overgrown with weeds, grass, and wildflowers with a mind of their own.

Interlocked,
Our fingers make 10 promises as you lead me barefoot through the brush.

You chose a dark starry night with the moon to oversee our ventures.

Pulling me through,
I lift the hem of my dress in an attempt to save it from stains.

Your feet stop.
“This is it.”
You say.

Pulling me to my knees,
The bare ground tickles me fancy.

I look up to see you towering over me, with the moon as my witness.
You push my arms over my head,
Tugging my dress,
Shrugging it down my shoulders.

Exposing me to the Earth—
I feel everything.
The grass, the stars, your every exhale, and the hiss of a snake. (Somewhere in the night with us.)

You smile down at me, and of course,
I smile back.

I start to speak,
You push your hand over me.

“You mustn’t speak.”
I comply.

Your eyes glow yellow in the dark.
A flash of regret and guilt flutters into my heart.
“Are you sure we should do this?”

He reaches to shed his shirt, molting layer after layer,
Revealing new skin, cold to the touch.

Pressed against me, bare.
Out of the crook of his neck:
I see the stars.
Blinking, flickering, dancing for me.

Beautiful, angelic,
Delicious.
You create a new woman out of me.

Clearing at dirt, grabbing at grass, and gasping at the sight of seeing stars.

Crickets sing into the night, frogs croak a melodic ballad, and the birds whistle in their sleep.

A chorus of the night.
Snakes hiss join in.

You use me anyway you want.

“You mustn’t tell anyone.”
I seal my lips with the taste of a red kiss.

As the moon grows tired of the night,
The sun peaks into our world.

You lift me up, slipping my dress back onto my shoulders.
Zipping me up with ease.

I look down to see it tainted with green grass and brown Earth.

‘Was it worth it?’
I sigh, but smile.

Our hands meet again for our last ten promises as you lead me again through the brush.
Through tall grass, tired weeds, and wild flowers.

You lead me out into the sun.

“Here is where we part, my love.”

“Will I see you again?”

“Only on your darkest days.”

You kiss me again.
The shakes hiss and night choir sings. Angelic.

Eyes open—
You’re gone,
Gone with the night.

I turn for home.
(Wherever that is.)

“Where were you, my other half?”

“I was with the night.”

“What’s that in your hands, darling?”
“Show me!”

As if magic, I feel an object pressed against my palm.
(The palm that once held you.)

I slowly open up, breaking our promise.
I reveal the only remnant of our night:
A red apple.

With a fresh bite missing,
My mouth tingles wet.
IMCQ Jul 2020
Take of the fruit that thrives here.
Sleep soundly in the sycamore's shade.
In time, what you've enjoyed will replenish.

Paradise.
Open to all.
My garden.

You may find my spiral staircase;
But do not wander beneath my Eden.
No trove exists to entice you.

Twisted alloys sprawl from floor to ceiling.
Life choked out from within its passages.
Shrapnel covered pathways and barbed footholds.

Labyrinth.
A price of iron.
My soul.

You breathe light into pallid tunnels.
Padlocks crumble under your touch.
Pave your own path through my body.

An empty auditorium, walls ascending into the void.
Center stage, a single flower encased in a ray of light.
Scentless, white, sepals of stainless steel.

Unremarkable.
It's yours now.
My heart.
It's hard not to love you when you've ignored my every obstacle.
Now take it and leave.
Qweyku Jun 2020
Deception sought to beckon in the shadows,
But the wind carried the gentle lips of Wisdom,

Whispering;

“...only fools believe in the trickery of darkness.”


Such a fragile bridge
From dusk to dawn today
Its moorings & way too narrow,
The fingers of the heart
clinging to deceit.

Set the dew of diligence at the gate
Like the flaming sword of Eden!
Forbidding fear ingress, but
Thoroughfare to the Comely Trio;

Righteousness, Peace & Joy!

Permit the Spirit of His Kingdom
Wholly reign within.


© Qwey.ku
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
Matko,
czemuż liść rajskiej jabłoni,
poczuł dotyk Twej dłoni?

... A wybór ten się ziścił?
To śnięcie, podszept liści...

Czy twa cierń była nader ostra?
Ma najdroższa,
Mater Nostra

... Dnia twego dziękczynienie,
nie miało oka tchnienie...

gdy znosiłaś krwiożercze znoje,
by ochronić
dziatki Twoje.

... Za Szeolem, bez pudru
lecz z chlubą łez nagości...

Twe serce 
zmrożone w kajdany,
nie okazało miłości.

... Tak, tych palców spostrzeżeń
u męża nań spuszczonych...

Iżby stworzyć koncepcję 
plemienia,cykl
niezwykle strudzony.

...Zbluzganiem, uwielbianiem,
Jest Ewą i Allahem...

Aby poczciwość dać rodzinie,
ciągle żyję
pod tym strachem.
Osobą jam nie znana,
Raczej funkcją, zadaniem
Jestem matką,
a moja profesja,
jest rodziny kochaniem.

„Od nigdy a po zawsze,
Byt, nie przeminę z wiatrem.

W honorze. W trawie. W mężczyźnie. Ostanę.”
Co-written with an acquaintance of mine, Alexandra P. of the transcending figure of the Mother, since the Eden and till the End, beyond corporeal conceptions.
Will translate to English if heavily requested (haven’t yet due to tremendous amount of rhymes and the renga’s strict structure)
vanessa ann Jun 2020
longing. yearning. wanting. so many words for
a singular feeling. they never taught me how
to love an enigma. mystery’s an intrigue.
it wrenches you in like

beast in beauty and the beast. joker in joker
now this is not to say you’re a ******* furry or
an anarchist’s *******: you are holy.
holy, as in baptise me

in your aprillian light;
grind my guts into grime
break my bones into brimstones and
let me love you twice

as hard. thrice the hurt.
four times the trouble,
five times the heart

you see, i’m very good at counting.

i’ll even do it for the both of us.
like how it’s been 437 days since saturn tore her knees.
75 days since you were anointed god.
20 after we fell apart and i know

i’m jumping into conclusions again. i know
you never said goodbye. not really,
but what is “see you when i see you” if not a gentle rejection?

you’re very fond of maybes,
that’s how i knew you were god.

so maybe we’ll meet in september,
shades of chartreuse forgotten under our feet.
changes in the weather, changes in the sweater
your touch no longer seduces me like summer

so then maybe,
with bones regrown like eden
i will reach for your temple

and show you how much i love you.
I dreamt of Eden; I dreamt of you.

I dreamt of your radiance
And of your ethereal elegance.

You're the light at the end of my tunnel,
and you're the silencer of my storms

I never thought I could witness such grace
With such an eternal, celestial form.

But when I next close my eyes,
and when all my fear subsides,

I'll dream of Eden. I'll dream of you.
Max Neumann May 2020
mirrors are used to tell you the truth within dreams
their memory goes further back than a day's length
you, the human, are dreaming of eden, an undiscovered maze
the night restlessly sells off her estranged gaze

shadows are flowing through your spinning mind
you see a child, contemplatively engaged in a game
not willing to follow any caring orders; you are glowing
as you are trying to hide yourself under a blanket of knowing

future has decayed, you have to blink, you have to smile
a century's crippled hands are grabbing at your truncated tongue
not even words, terms, speech and language remain
while rain is dripping from leaves, leaving its stain

asleep, you taste the bitter broth of your dream
the gods of the woods are coming for you, in amusement
the dog of voices is barking at his shadow; you are burping
while you hear the muzzle of your dream delightfully slurping
Today is a good day.
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