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Archita Nov 2014
I wanted to laugh.
You took away the giggles.

I wanted to fly.
You held me by my wings.

I wanted to read.
You took away my coffee.

I wanted to sing.
You took away the notes.

I wanted to write.
You burned my paper.

I wanted to leave.
*The diamond shone on my dead finger.
Paul Butters Oct 2014
Get your finger out!
I hear you shout.
Give Life a clout.

But what’s it all about?
What does it mean?
Out of what?
A hole in a gun?
Or your ***?

How do you think I sit?
Is my finger covered
In something not too pleasant?

So you think I’m lazy!
You must be crazy.
I’ve worked off my socks
Yet I’m tied to the stocks.

We are ALL in this mess,
Yes it’s time to fess.
Too much wrong in this world:
Time our flag was unfurled.

To do nothing is bad,
From Rome to Riyadh.
Don’t want to feel sad:
We’d rather be glad
That we acted
Without being distracted.

So get that flipping finger out!

Paul Butters
From a common saying...
g Sep 2014
you walk down the hallway
its either you're invisible
or people see you for the wrong reasons

you arrive early to school
just to avoid the crowd
just so you could hide

you sit in the library
during lunchtime
so they cannot find you

when will you
stand up for yourself
learn how to shove their opinions
back into their mouth
don't care what they think
point your ******* at them
and say "*******"
its your time to stand up
for *yourself
too much homework but
James Jarrett Jun 2014
I haven't left
Just pounded the inspiration
Out of my hand
With 20 Lbs. of hammer
A hand is a hell of a thing
To have
And it's starting to look
As if it's not healed
So woe for me
As it seems
My muse must live in that hand
And once again
She has fallen down the stairs
I know it ***** and is really not a poem. I have been notably absent because I smashed my hand driving a post in the ground. Healing is long and slow as I am 30 days in. Maybe it will get me depressed and I will be able to write something quality. LOL
Georgie Watts Jun 2014
Delete finger
go back
to whence you came!
Most usually deployed
when I’ve done something
inane, lame or insane…
In my mind I suppose
to knows
all what people think of me
and thus supposition
(the annoying ******)
sometimes threatens creativity.
The pieces will eventually make sense
and be understood
by those who are not dense
that I do what I do
because
I am compelled to
So I cannot delete myself.
www.wattsington2.wordpress.com
maggie W Apr 2014
You are a poet, a musician and everything

When you smile it’s sonnet 18

When you frown it’s dark ambient to me.

When you pause and bury your head in the book

I would caress your hair like zither

Sing an ode to your soul

Your pale long fingers, fragile and bossy

Manipulate strings and words and minds easily

Slap me, pop me and shape me please.
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