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Sophie Wilson Jan 2015
I walked out into the garden
starry night and found an emptiness
and green firework flailing up there.
I tried not to cry but heard
myself repeating hollow syllables.
"Happy new year!" he said, and looked
away. "Hmm" I mused. My thoughts tangled, growing and had a novel
of beauty in them, and an empty bed:
sad songs, poetry, tears, dreams;
only words and suffocation.
My mutterings were never truly understood.
I took more night cold beer,
I noticed, while I was drinking it,
it also included sharp ice dead stars.

More drifted into their boats to oblivion
including you. He seemed distant
and I felt bad. More truths
breathed in and out in starry dark black hopefulness.
Life's a Beach Nov 2014
So, When I Die,
burn up my remains
Wipe away a single drop of your pain,
safe in the knowledge that I got in
that One Last Pun
(Ash turned to Ashes)
Smile, because this ****** won, in
death, this one small way, she didn't
have to pay the reaper with her
humour. In this small way I'll get
to stay.

When I Die, don't give a **** about what you say,
Swear at me, hate me, bait me, but please remember me
as I lived. Remember my ability to give a snort
instead of a laugh. Remember when I
took a bath in every item of clothe,
remember how I could make a cove to
hide in out of anything. Remember
how I'd curl myself in and cry or
laugh until I sobbed.

When I die, try not to think about me as being 'robbed'. Instead,
remember me sleeping under chairs,
and catching people unaware, with
sudden, unprovoked song.
Remember me acting 'wrong': my chicken impression,
the monkey one too, recall how I could meow
and hiss and moo.
Let my lovers remember how I could
kiss while I grinned. How a girl so saintly could
sin so wrong.
Recall me, darlings, when I belonged; and
when I belonged to you.

and When I die, there will be no spewing over
empty words, I want beautiful vowels and verbs
and songs, if you have to long for me, then do it
while listening to Marley, listen to love,
listen to the mood.
Be lewd:
If you want to mosh then do it, if you want to
dance then try to feel it; the way I'd always
do.

When I die, cover yourselves in biro tattoos, turn
up to the wake caked in face paint, draw all the
way up your left arms,
None of you ******'s are allowed to self harm
So draw a cat with a halo and say no
to sensible shoes. Choose to wear whatever you like,
don a dress like a kite and blow up
all the balloons

When I die, I'm gonna have to stop
joining in all the fun.
So, please, never feel 'done' with joy.
Act coy.
Play with toys and teddies, if you
don't feel 'ready' to mature, then
don't. It won't help you to
feel happier if
you do.

When I die, still think of something purple
and something blue.
Make sure, at my death, that those things
are there too.
Don't hate me if you find out
something new, I never
aimed to hurt.

When I die, take a handful
of me, and set me safe in a stone, or
a goblet or cup…It doesn't matter which, but
I'd like the words "Level Up"
engraved for eternity
(Keeping ASDF with me, for yet
another century).

When I die, take a deep breath and start another war.
I lived by the law of no regrets, and (look at that!) you're not
dead yet; so try to follow that law too.

Remember, when I'm dead, just how much I loved you.

So when I die, put me in a firework
So that I can clash colours one last time,
Read out my rhymes, the good ones
and the hard ones (Maybe this one too!) once I'm gone
It's time that everybody knew.

And, once I die, let my memories stick
like glitter lain on glue.

*And put me in a firework and watch me glow anew
Klara Aug 2014
your fingers are like
matches
setting every piece of skin
they touch
on fire

burning all the bad
words ever said
making me believe
the words your movements
express
beautiful

it is weird to feel something
i have never felt before
i discover nerve endings
i never even thought
existed
but your fingers
find them
beautiful

our bodies
fit perfectly
as if your hands
formed me to fit yours
mashing together as one
beautiful

i feel it at every piece of skin
your hands skimmed
i feel
*beautiful
this has nothing personal to it I just wanted to try to put myself in someone else's shoes and this is what came out of it
Emily Archer Jun 2014
Please don't miss me because we are a firework.
When we mix, it's toxic beauty.
We rain down a show of tender passion.
But the end result is always our own destruction.
Please don't miss me because I'm afraid of heights.
shåi Jun 2014
i guess
this might be another poem
about how the mind works...

my mind
is a constant explosion
of fears and doubt

it ticks like a
constant bomb
never knowing
when it will explode

i fear that i
will awake
not knowing who
i am

i doubt
that anyone
would ever
light a fire
to my dying heart

i await
the day
my other half
will take my place

i fear the existence
of not existing
and the death
of a lost poet

where is love?
where is peace?
where am i?

i'm probably dying.
uncertainity exploding at the seams.

(b.d.s.)
Thank you for all the kind suggestions and comments on my last poem! Your comments let me grow and evolve into a better writer :)
Roberta Day Jun 2014
The future is a sparkle
a firework feeling in my hands
that billows out and expands
to flash multicolored wants
       while crackling needs
I hope it blows our minds
    exploding blissfully
before our eyes
painting the sky with
our names in starry white;
Innocence revisited,
awakened by possibility

— The End —