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Vladmir Putin May 2015
iMac
I can
I done

I always spit the pun

Iraq
Iran
I run

All the way to the cinnamon bun
For Dana

Woman
Sister
Mother

No matter the title or label
None fully define that which is
You

That which is
Dana

Studying your hands I’ve learned
all things are possible
even though you make them seem effortless

Studying your soul I’ve learned
true strength is limitless and unmatched

Studying your arms I’ve learned
true love is unconditional

Thank you Dana
for being the first woman in my life

Thank you Bennie
for being the first sister in my life

Thank you Ma
for being my one and only
Mother

©Christopher F. Brown 2015
when the war is over
what then

there is no road that leads back to
before

we pin all of our hopes and fears
on this
future
that has yet to be determined
But has already been paid for completely

in blood
in tears
in regret and sorrow

when the war is over
what then

only a few manage to escape the past
until we war again

©Christopher F. Brown 2015
what is it about writers
we put words to emotions
to experience
to life

life others are afraid to acknowledge
maybe

experience others may have had
Or have not had
maybe

emotions others have equally laid with
possibly more
maybe

words are vehicles

writers speak not of the contraption that brings about motion
a writer speaks of the navigator that discerns direction

©Christopher F. Brown 2015
Katelynn Shadoan Mar 2015
You will read a trillion words in your life time, so why say that you'll never love another book?
F. Scott Fitzgerald once said you'll never know the same love twice, or something to that effect.
This is up to your interpretation.
Duke Thompson Jan 2015
caked with wet empty dread
gnawing for moist marrow

i see white lies in your eyes boy (child)          clown with lobotomy ice picks
driven through (dripping)

he screams at me (crawling on ceiling)
the grand cosmic joke
no one's laughing (head turns)
ugly dead frozen little boy girl *****
(who is really the specimen)

i **** it (her) {him} [me]
raw till no longer can hear death rattle
raw sour note (bleeding)
bone chips

saw you eat me in my dreams
fried raw and ******
(my liver and onions get you drunk)

pounding some incessant f note
on **** little black dress keys
till dust till dusk till we do part

silly tell tale heart
only haven't buried me yet
water in the desert
fire in the tundra

Trust
unlike anything else that claims to be such

is precious
is rare

So much so that some have
never seen it
never heard it
never experienced it

to them it's myth and fairytale
little more than a half happy lie

Trust
to them that know
It's more fickle than a candle flame
It's more stable than helium

if you have it
treat it as the rare gift it is

if you have it
know that its strength depends on yours

if you have it
know that it has you
if you leave it
know it leaves you.

©Christopher F. Brown 2015
Àŧùl Jun 2014
Sulking back grinding my teeth is useless
Taking out my ire on boneheaded people is ridiculous
Asking the world to stop using the 'F-word' is pointless as well
Yelling at the top of my voice against the vice is not worthy either
Involving not in policing activities without being authorized
Not caring for you jealous people is best in these circumstances
Gunning them down is impossible any day anyway

Lowly words are your virtue commonly crude language people
Ostentatious skills of yours are no use against the new born rage
W*inning your hearts over is better than whining over your malpractice of teaching your kids the *F-word earlier than either Papa or Mama.
Phew...
Feeling great today..
Will not delete my account as I got just few message from an idiot who insisted that I quit HP & many more who told me that they love my work.
I will just turn a blind eye to all the 'F-words'.
So to the idiots I have to say, "Keep the F-words for your parents and future children, jerks."

My HP Poem #641
©Atul Kaushal
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