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So many ****** birds,
Grey, brown and black,
Suited as they sully in sun,
In feather and windy-speak
And dream, drifting to profit
Points, marring the globe,
They have so many ways
Of singing on their swings
Behind bars, murky birdies,
Gawking in the crowded fields,
Fielding, flighty questions without
Answer, winging all souls to oblivion,
Who fly, flustering, dusting with song
Twisting the air into pure falsehoods,
Curious, grounded pets for kingdoms,
For masters, fly-hoping in their cages.
.
Seek and you shall find; Knock and it shall be shown to you. Sound and Song; Sacred n̶̨̢̛̛̮̱̟̣̺̳͓͓̣̠͉̎͛̔̿̎̈́͛͆͋̓̔̕͜͠ͅa̶̺̼͒͂m̸̻̗̎̎̔̔͋̿̓͗̓̒̈̾̕͝e̵̛̐̆̾̚̕͝­̡̩̙̣̤́͆̾͝ş̵̡̨̤̪̘͈͕̹͖̯͙̫̯̎̔͑̔̉̋͛͠͠͠ͅ and prosperity. It is a sacred s̴̯̮̤̫̃̈́̏̋o̴͓̓̐͌͒n̵̼̜̹͌̉̎̀̿͘ͅg̸̞̫̗͆̿, but you must fast to hear it.

You have to be vulnerable to love. Always give back to where you came from. Every enemy taught you how to become strong. Truth eliminates fear through clarity. Don't become so clear that you think you  ̸̠̹̃k̸͉̈ņ̵͖̏͝ö̸̪̂w̴̥̌.̴͎̹̀̑ ̵̮̾̅

11:11 and I'm heaven-sent :
(Was it heaven-sent or hell-bent?)

Crown of kings drown in dreams
Seven/seven fit the mirror like I'm Elvis ; (king)

D̷̻̈́͐͜r̵̜͇̅͘o̷̡̞͋w̸͇̐̉ň̸̟͘ ̷̞̮̕ỉ̵̝ñ̴̺͌ ̸̢́͝d̸̝́̕r̶̭͝e̴̮̹̕̚ã̷̜̀m̷̦̋͆,̴̘̈́́ ̵̮̺̒̒crown of dream ̵̮̺̒̒
Found my means renouncing  ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵t̴h̵i̶n̵g̴s̴ ̵̮̺̒̒

Fake as make-believe, believe by planting seed ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵̮̺̒̒
Raising  ̵̮̺̒̒  ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵̮̺̒̒trees ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵̮̺̒̒  ̵̮̺̒̒ supersedes stagnant grief,
sowing strands of reef, genie granting these
wishes to stand for free: instead of free dumb
To stand for king instead: of king dumb

Light the dance. orbit o the angels
Aligned the winds. Purple sway  the cradles
Purple sway , purple Haze, purple play like h̵a̷̪͛l̶̝͠ȯ̴̪ș̷̈ ̴̤͐
even in the shallows  Tracing hallowed  cables
hollow between angel actors and  kraken crafted
Factors.

Discovered carved tables, symbols etched in
Fables labeled as age-old things, start ta twitching
Pass me down culture so I can rip the seams
Gambled on Renewal: connecting means
Connected dots: collected thought memes
Till we find,

Horror quarantined in-between time machines.
Aura Byzantine, a dash of florentine in my nicotine
a little dash of what you dream sash about
Hit the  limonene in my limousine
Ask me how philistine when my ego guillotine

Fell out of sync, out of light, out of wack
Fat beats,fat  bones, thro heavy set

Broken and bleeding new Wounds.
So far I'm feeding You (loons)

these lines that I'm leaving bruised
Lines Im breaking, snapped in twos

throwing back a pack of brews
swing a sack of screws,

split  the devil's noose with
Tight screws, hype views,

(always) choose To never lose,
just adapt my views

(̶i̵(̶(̸ ̷c̵h̴a̸n̴t̸ ̴t̴h̵e̵ ̶a̸r̸c̵h̴i̷t̶e̶c̷t̶)̶ ̴x̵ ̵i̶ ̶c̶h̶a̶n̷t̶ ̷t̴h̷e̸ ̷g̷u̷r̴u̶ ̵)̷)̵
Chant the who knew rain with chance of voodoo

Came with a dance of  too new
But what's the shaking got to do

with my too juiced breakthrough
Everything: .. nothing ..

N̶̘̄o̸̱̞̾thin̶̢̥͊ġ̶̞ always somethin̶̢̥͊ġ̶̞~
So we sing what you go to loooooooose?

Please it's time to chooooosee
Nana na naw naaaa na no na naah

I can't lose selecting self-respect,
stand ***** proud my chest
No disrespect,  just here to collect
my resurrected form 
in retrospect, I should have loved here more

Can't lose you should have bet smore....
Soft-spoken with a ****** message from...
Often token I'm guessing so do these dudes...
Please Just take my arm....

Let's me demonstrate :Conflictlikenospacing
Taken Deadly fronts from a ghost I'm no facing

You call it suffering I call it gro̴͚͈̿̄w̸̢͓͐̐th phases
They call it suff̷̠͌ë̵̫̜́̎ř̴̯̥̏ing we call it growth phȃ̵͙͘s̵͕̄͜es
Meet the divine in the air with your breath.
Jade Apr 10
⚠️Trigger Warning: the Following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm and suicide. ⚠️
~
This piece is an emulation of Aesop's fable "The Boy Who Cried Wolf". Any similarities, as a result, are purely intentional, and I am thus giving credit where credit is due.
~
There once was a girl
who cut herself,
a plan by which she could get
a little company
and
some excitement.

(Or so it was presumed)

She rushed out from the
school washroom
after tearing herself open
and called out,
"suicide, suicide!”

And her teachers and classmates
came out to meet her,
and some of them stopped
with her for a considerable time.

This pleased the girl
so much,
that a few days afterwards,
she tried the same trick,
and again her
teachers and classmates
came to help.


This pleased the girl
so much,
that a few days afterwards,
she tried the same trick,
and again her
teachers and classmates
came to help.



This pleased the girl
so much,
that a few days afterwards,
she tried the same trick,
and again her
teachers and classmates
came to help—

But instead of
trying to understand
the chronic illness
that plagued her,

they resorted to an archaic stigma
to inform their judgments
on the subject of mental illness.

They believed
that she only bled
to receive attention,
and was therefore named
The Girl Who Cried Suicide
after The Boy Who Cried Wolf.

Eventually,
she wasn't allowed
to use the school washroom
at all anymore

even if she had to
take a ******* ****

cuz
it would only encourage

"maladaptive
attention
seeking
behaviours.”

Despite them never
saying this to her face,
the girl was not
stupid

and

discovered

the defamations
that had fallen from the
tongues of these
black sheep.

The Girl was so
profoundly hurt
by this betrayal

that a few years
afterwards,
as she attempted
to bleed herself dry
in the bathtub
at 3 Am
on a stormy
May 30th,

she dared not
tell a soul

for she knew
they would think
this to be an act
of deceit

a freak show
she put on just
for the ******
hell of it—

crowned

liar

in some sick,
crimson pageant.

But this was not
a game of
make-believe


no—

the wolves
had always been
there

rabid

&

howling

to the blood moon
of her mind's eye

every beautiful thought

disembowelled

the fabric of her sanity
torn from her skull

(And the veins torn from her flesh)

the wolves’ cry
a siren song

leading the lamb
to her slaughter.

~
Don’t you understand?

I am not playing dress-up

I am not the wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing
I am not the wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing
I am not the wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing

I  am

the lamb to this slaughter
~
Tell me

If it was all just for

*******

attention,

then why did I feel the need

to hide my cuts
with long-sleeved shirts

during gym class

in the summer?

Why did I start
cutting in places
Where no one would ever
think
of looking?

Why did I tell everyone I
stopped
when I hadn’t?

~
Did you really care about me?

Or did you care about
What would happen to
You
if the liability killed herself?
~
You cut me in ways
a razor
never could.
~
How could you
How could you
How could you
~
Honestly?

Go **** yourselves,
You uneducated
*****
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_poetry_and_pressed_flowers_
Once upon
I felt the call
To take a midnight walk
And stumbling through
The misty streets
A voice began to talk

Fear not said ye
The angels call
I must have reached the Lord
But falling through
The gravel road
The stone and I’m the sword

The king of far
And futures will
Be beckoned by the light
With fist and tongue
He rules below
The tempting of his might

And yet we see
His gentler heart
Indulging in the arts
The king at last
Usurped from throne
The Jester’s reign then starts

The midnight walk
Turns into morn
And visions fade away
But jesters in
the place of kings
Will never go away
I really like this one high key, just a nice little story with a couple interpretations
Akhiz Munawar Jan 28
Let’s waste paper
Probing the debris in our hearts
Let’s collect those sheets engraved with fears
Pages on which we inscribed doubts
Those chapters authored on failure
Notes exchanged on despair
Finding paragraphs which held great chasms
Between blind faith and flickering belief
Lucid Fables written on evenings
When that lazy sun tries one last time
to woo the sky
Let’s make a stockpile… I will bring the flame
Let’s waste paper
Far away, some years ago
A man sowed corn in his field
Confident, and hopeful too
Of the hearty crop he’d yield

Then birds flew in at sunset
And gobbled up many seeds
The farmer acted quickly
To provide his family’s needs

A woven net - to trap the birds
His precious seeds to preserve
He caught five geese and a stork
To get what they deserve

The stork said, “I am innocent
I’ve eaten none of your corn
Free me - I’ve done goodly deeds
Since the day that I was born”

The farmer said, “that may be so
But in this group you were caught
You receive the punishment
Of the company you’ve sought”

The same holds true for all of us
The rewards you choose to reap
Will likely be those given out
To the company you keep
This is Prosperity Poem 107 at ProsperityPoems.com and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below). https://prosperitypoems.com/delivery107TheCompanyYouKeep.html
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This poem was inspired by a parable on my Mom's website.  I found out while writing the poem that the story is actually an Aesop's Fable.
Once, a fox was boasting to a cat.”So clever am I, I know hundreds of tricks! How many do you have?” asked Fox. the cat replied, “just one-but it is useful.”
The Fox was going to say something, but changed her mind.
Nevertheless, wolves came, Cat scrambled up a tree, and Fox died.
Once, a fox was boasting to a cat.”So clever am I, I know hundreds of tricks! How many do you have?” asked Fox. the cat replied, “just one-but it is useful.”
“What! How much good can just one do, compared to hundreds?” exclaimed the fox.
Wolves came, and Fox greeted them, telling Cat they were her friends. “Hello” said the wolves to Fox.
“It is good to see you again, brothers.Shall we eat?” the wolves agreed.
Cat, thinking of fish, agreed as well.
The wolves killed the cat, and the fox and the wolves shared their meal.And that was one of fox’s tricks.
Once, a fox was boasting to a cat.”So clever am I, I know hundreds of tricks! How many do you have?” asked Fox. the cat replied, “just one-but it is useful.”
“That is just as well,” said the fox,” for I can see what you cannot.” and the fox dashed away.
“What! How conceited Fox must be,” said the cat, '' I must not deal with her again.”
Wolves came, but the cat was so angry at the fox, that he only noticed when he was already being eaten.
Once, a fox was boasting to a cat.”So clever am I, I know hundreds of tricks! How many do you have?” asked Fox. Cat replied, “just one-but it is useful.”
“What! How much good can just one do, compared to hundreds?” exclaimed the fox.
Wolves came, and Fox had so many plans, Fox could not choose one, and froze in fear.
The cat scrambled up a tree. “There. That is my trick.Very useful-wouldn’t you agree?”
And the wolves killed the fox and ate it.
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