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A Simillacrum Apr 2019
Dip me into the flat line,
under the frame,
where the sun sinks,

The longest day of my life suddenly
ends with a twist, turns
out, your venom

burned negative space
in the lid and
let out the damage

you did.
Keiya Tasire Mar 2019
When roaring sorrow
Uprooted me
I envision a lotus flower, staying gently a float upon the pond.
The sun's soothing, comforting light warmed my heart.
Breathing in.... Breathing, gently out.
Releasing both hands
Clasped in pain.
No need to leave
No need to go
The deep sorrow of my heart beating
Rivers of Love's tears upon the pond.
Yet the sunshine never failed.
I am floating gently - to that perfect spot
Within the pond.
I, Lotus flower
Send my tap root deep down below
Taking root, among the other lotus
Beautiful flowers anchored to the pond's murky floor.
In the first year after my son died. I found it best not to make any huge changes within the first year. I needed silence, peace, and stillness of my home and a simple pattern of life. I  needed the love and support of my husband, which he freely gave. Stephan's death uprooted my heart and turned it upside down. It was as though I was floating through my time without even noticing that there was any time at all. There came a time when the worst of the grief subsided and I was able to put my roots slowly back into a simily of a regular routine of time. When I settled in, I found the support and love of friends and family who were open to support me through the rest of my grieving journey. I am grateful because they opened the  doors of compassion, understanding and the insight gained from their own past grieving. It was good to be among other lotus flowers, sharing roots of understanding, love and caring.
Eryri Mar 2019
Seven billion souls
Being spun around
On this flat Earth;
A rotating disc,
Master of its Domain,
At the centre of the Solar System,
Where it belongs,
The star of the show,
A Double A-Side planet.
Flat Earth: of course, I'm not a Flat Earther.
Diana Santiago Dec 2018
I hate your stupid face
Those squinty eyes, them closed lips
Your expression so emotionless
Flat and stagnant is what it drips

Those masculine eyebrows, your expansive hair
That skin void of blemishes and scars
Complexion of espresso dancing with milk
Leaving the beholder seeing stars

Empty of smiles and feelings
Your visage the definition of dry
I go seeking for some semblance of life
Through your dark mysterious eyes

So I hate your stupid face
For it is the one that leaves me breathless
Casting the root on my heart
Rendering me into a state of restless
juliet Dec 2018
your prestige and glamour
have grown too much
so many people bow down to you but
you can’t see your own feet.
expect me unwelcome
to your golden throne
i’ll raise your prices
flat iron my tongue to make you happy
rhythmize my lips so they sway
to the beat of my hips,
to the music of love
                                  love
                                             love
Vexren4000 Aug 2018
A time of wonder,
Merriment and melody,
Music was magical,
Movies were special,
A time faded into the past,
A place gone from here.
The magic of an evening out,
Now destroyed by human innovation.

©BAS
James R Clobum Aug 2018
It's so flat and featureless
you can see into tomorrow
and back to yesterday.
A Texas poem.
a condition
with stygian
inhibits our
haunts with
crypts and
needs a
hoax to
ridicule their
emancipation that
entirely melts
them as
a ghost
harbors ill
in milieu
while platitude
burry death
in gratitude
a note on gratitude
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2018
Without a rope but
squaring the circle
the giant man gives it a try
takes a flight off to the sky
only to fall flat on the ground.

She turns around
gives the circle her pi.
He bounces back
and retakes the flight
Que Sera, Sera on the way!
Ooh...this... just an amazing grace note
     recalling how I felt like an ***
and wanna toot 'bout me getting steered
     (as a heavy metal kid Rocker)

     toward befriending a brass
see gutsy, *****,
     and MainLine snooty upper class
action button down

    (grace fully slick as vaseline), airily glinting
     forcibly hawked, laundered, and pawned
     by the instrumental
     Mister Deangelo O'Donnell, High School

     (mud flapping, ornery hearing,
     and quid juicing Ska Welch ching)
     music teacher oompah crass
tone deaf when aye trumpeted desire

     to master the Coronet
analogous to pursing lips
     blowing tightly held grass
blade between two abetted,

     cinched fastened opposable thumbs,
which tooting a supposed aural aphrodisiac
     to attract a zaftig well proportioned lass
     (ideally shaped like a miniature Tuba)

with one steel funnel like mouthy mass
that probably explains, how such a gal
     could easily emulate
     ****** pucker earning pass

to illustrious honorable first chair
and blasts gratitude akin
     as Gabriel would declare
heavenly expressions conducting

     angels thru atmospheric ether
alighting on mortal ushering melody
     with rites of harkening
     springtime Renaissance Faire

solar rays golden raiment
     splays rainbow fragments off
     beveled, bellowed, and
     bedecked polished flare

audiological sound waves trick
     saw toothed reflected
     silhouetted orchestral shadows
to dance as conductor's baton gear
musicians horns ensemble
     epochal feast to hear.
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