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G E Sousa Oct 7
Revered echoes of fell ichor fester once more

Token of dehiscence, sharp sound of shattering,
Broken glass on senses, fractured images sing,
Winking light from above, monochrome sight and flood,
Through a crimson filter, bliss dove like loose lifeblood,
Hundred mirrors beneath, reminisce the abyss,
And picture what death seeth, veins of hazed liquorice

A thousand questions lay on the floor, unanswered

Lost more than in essence, stranded and more than scarred
There are myriad stars, still shining an age hence
Their glow burns too intense, for my eyes not to char
And yet they dwell too far, for me to know and sense

Whether they scream or not, despite their voice so loud
So while strolling I vowed, ne'er to pursue some plot
Or let the wander rot, for thoughts belong in clouds
So with words of yore sowed, I'll find what I forgot

I'll be swimming yonder, airborne in tangled dreams
I'll hang on my hopes' rim, sometimes stop and wonder
Whether I should ponder, or in upwards walks scream
At life's own enmeshed schemes, for my heart grows fonder

And yet the sky still sings, strong of its astral tones
Berceuses whose hues moan, and make welkins' tints ring
Acrylics quite soothing, tinges under the dawn
Like rain that once had flown, on thin roofs now falling

But something somewhere hums, and I can't quite tell where
Nor could I truly care, about faraway strums
For I feel a bit numb, despite their jocund airs
Caught wistful in the snare, forswear the world as sum

So for now I'll sojourn, and let thoughts for morrow
May winds for eons blow, for I won't be forlorn
There are myriad bourns, still for me to follow
For all that felt sorrow, and for all journeyborne

A clock ticks with moonlight, and betokens the night

And yet the sunrise approaches already
Stars vanish away from it all
Have they gotten bored of listening to me?
Such would be a sad fate to befall
Or perhaps must they lend ears to more souls with woe
Still, I'll have to thank them and the moon
But I'll head home for now
I hear it'll be raining soon
moon Sep 4
his name was luis.

i loved him for over seven years.
i fell deeper and deeper and for the first time in my life,
i was okay with it.

he is beyond beautiful.
i could write about when our hands touched or the way my face would get hot when we locked eyes under the moonlight.
i could write about him forever.

there is no one more beautiful than he is.
for he is all the stars in the world.

he is everything into one.

so absolutely and utterly
instagram: @heavenforecaster
These walls hold no comfort
For a man in my shoes.
They inspire no happiness,
And nothing but blues

I'm out of time,
Out of place,
There's no more devotion.
And with these words,
I make one final notion

No more will you cry
For now I move on.
You must understand,
This is my swan song.

But do not feel bad,
And rather, rejoice
For a massive finale
I'll conjure with voice

Let them come and take me
I know what I've done
But I also know
That I've sung my swan song
Zinnia Ali Apr 7
Hear! Hear !
Far or Near

All in a row
Waiting for their turn
One goes after another

Into a place;
Freedom for some,
Prison for some,
Peace for some ,
Punishment for some,
Escape for none.

Be aware, Be ready;
Here comes your turn.
Badshah Khan Mar 6
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 65

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

A Highly Saint!
Whom they indeed achieve,
In his prime time not for an elongate period,
But it is constant forever till the time finale!

Allah Khair..... Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab - Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Em MacKenzie Dec 2018
I’m straining my arms and I’m pulling my shoulders,
from pushing each line and carrying our shared boulders.
And my hands are burned and skin’s scraped,
knuckles cracked and broken fingertips,
a few careless words escaped
and I wished to push them back behind my lips.

I’ve got the motor warm and running,
and the waves have settled as they should,
I write down just how I find you stunning,
I would voice it if I only could.

You ask if I’m confident and I tell you I don’t know,
can I make an impossible jump,
oh holy Holly, I don’t think so.
I’m no Henry, no Fonz, no Winkler,
I’m not a stunt performer on T.V,
I barely run through the sprinkler,
I sure as hell will find death in the sea.

The rope’s as tight as a fresh noose,
and my ski’s barely fit my bottom soles,
my hands are clenched just too loose,
I would prefer to be sleeping on coals.
The crowd’s cheers become a lashing,
blood dissolved into the water and salt,
an angry tail’s now thrashing,
my situation is entirely my own fault.

I’m jumping the shark,
without a trial run.
Leaving an infamous mark,
just before it’s all done.
I’m jumping the shark,
it’s the end to my character arc.
I’m jumping the shark,
desperation has never stood so stark.

I’ve glimpsed shadowed empty sets
and walked among great ruins,
I’m tired of swimming in regrets,
pretty please, can I hide in your flesh wounds?
I’ve been taking theatre classes
to act like I’m not terribly bothered,
but every beach goer casually passes,
my body that’s been brutally slaughtered.

I want to feel the water the way that I once did,
with carefree wonder like when I was a kid.
But I always hated the sand, and the way that it encased my toes,
but they’re calling me to set to stand, to see how this final shot goes.

The hoop is placed ontop of a mild wave,
I wish that they engulfed it first in flame,
they praise me for being so brave
but it’s I, not the shark, that is tame.
They’re calling out the term “action”
and I look for my highlighted script,
I only read a small fraction
before I thought it best to rip.

I’m jumping the shark,
without a trial run.
Leaving an infamous mark,
just before it’s all done.
I’m jumping the shark,
it’s the end to my character arc.
I’m jumping the shark,
cut camera and roll credits in the dark.
Don Bongolan Sep 2018
We find ourselves in a car
I hear humming winds past as we stay silent
We're here
Though calm, though sweet
Its here we watch our world collapse

We sit and watch
Crashing waves, burning flames
It was our youth, it was us
Though violent, though harsh
Its here we find our peace

We shut the door
We end our war
We were strangers,
Nothing more
A Simillacrum Jul 2018
Remembering hurt.
Designations of dirt.
Crawling, knee and nail.
Dessicated herbs.
Resignation of worth.
Stretching for the bag.

I've seen how this ends.

Up in smoke.
Dreaming delight.
Up in smoke.
Dreaming delight.

How long will this pattern run?
Up until the day is done.
How long will this pattern run?
Up until the day is done.

For any calm from halcyon,
I need

to burn
the herb.

I've seen
how this

Up in smoke.

Thank you for reading.
Reem Soussan Feb 2018
Do you ever wonder
Is this all worth it?
Do you ever feel
I did everything,
Is my time here over?
Do you ever think
They all come and go so
What's the use?
Do you ever want to go?
To a different world
Where things last
Forever and ever
Where nothing
Will break your heart
Where no one
Will bring you down
Where everyone
Will be supportive
Is this the world
I've been dreaming of?
Is this the life I want?
Are these the people
who make me happy?
Are these the ones?
They're monsters!
All I see are problems
I see fire and tears
I see pain and blood
Blinding my senses
Rendering my body numb
Those cursed wise minds
They've been fooling me
They said bad things end
They said miracles will happen
They said bright days will come
They said you'll be happy
They said the good will win
But I can see them
I see them , their demons
Mercilessly murdering angels
Yet they're smiling
But afterall
Only nothing lasts
Nothing lasts forever
Nothing is I.
The air I inhale chokes me
The flowers I exhaled
Have faded and broke
To dust
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