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Cheyenne Jul 2018
I see the madness
Festering inside
I watch it unfolding
From where I reside
Not quite within
But not without
Just barely and torridly
Floating about

If I remain here
I'll be eaten alive
But if I flee
It'll eat me up inside
I plant an evil in my Shangri-la
he carried out a coup d'etat

He told me to leave
And I escape with glee
At that time, I'm so naive
To think he will save me

When I flee, I think I'm free
But in reality, I'm simply loose

The moment I realize,
What my evil has done
Everything had been overdue
My allies have gone
And my Shangri-la just left a name
David Abraham Apr 2018
Once upon a time,
I taught myself to rhyme.

I would hum as I tried to climb,
and though the branches beneath my feet were hard,
from the ground by them I was barred,
and their marred bark seemed to melt into a part of me.

I taught myself to rhyme
when I lay awake at night,
and wished I could take flight.
04 20 2018

childhood home's tree & learning to rhyme
Mary-Eliz Apr 2018
rainbows and rain
smudged windows on trains
singing and playing
dancing and swaying

forests, woodlands green and lush
passionate scenes that can make one blush

sighing and moaning
forgiving, atoning
heartbreak and sadness
sweetness and gladness

musical notes falling like leaves
swirling round and round autumn trees

seasons and changes
and wide-open ranges
smiles and laughter
the here and the after

skies cloudy, skies clear
tiny sailboats seen from the pier

ocean breeze, crashing waves
undersea caverns and caves
flying and falling
creeping and crawling

creatures that swim in the deep
ones that awake while we sleep

dreaming and hoping
struggling and coping
sun, moon and stars
lands that are far

nightmares, ungodly fears
cold blood, hot sweat, unstoppable tears

lightning and thunder
the above and the under
soaring and hovering
healing, recovering

creeks, lakes and seas
dark prisons without any keys

chains and locks
deep rivers, smooth rocks
reality, fantasy
wanting to flee

we write it all down
we write it all here
it makes us feel better
it makes us feel freer
Vyiirt'aan Dec 2017
Hopeless endeavour.

The desecration of vitality,
Melancholy entices the pond of hope, repelling golden shimmering.

Infernal tendrils bringing insight to carress in snide
Dug its sharp elongated thorns inside, mending its stride
Gently encompass its roots around the mask,
The concrete veil that shone brightly in false atonement.

Expulsion from the realm of gold, sent astray for an eternity;
Such naïve, brazen happiness, ignorant of the caveats
The mere playground of unbridled mania quarantined.

Faux manifestations of an illusory smile,
For the horizon cast mere wisps of blight,
Rejecting heartbeat of rays gone awry.

They smirk as they watch you flee.
30/12

eternity flee happiness heartbeat hopeless insight melancholy playground smile vitality
Mark Wanless Nov 2017
"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend III"


There was shock when the thought, I am but one
Of many, started to crystallize. Fear
And a great loneliness pierced me. So near
A death of self bore down upon me I broke
My spirit in an effort to escape. None
Of all I knew could comfort, an earnest tear
Frightened them. Brought back to awareness their
Own dripping wounds which they fought to ignore.
Running from pain, such a useless, normal
Occurrence. Kills often. In many hidden
Ways we flee what we wish did not exist, all
For naught, such journeys are circular. But when
A crushing truth grabs you and shakes you until
The whole universe is spinning, what then?
Juniper Phillips Oct 2017
My heart fills with joy.
My mind fills with uncertainty.
Uncertainty with life,
Uncertainty with myself,
Uncertainty with the joy in my heart.
I want the joy but my mind questions it.
It wonders how to get it.
It can't figure out how to get the true joy.
My mind gets stuck with the imitation.
But one day, I hope the imitation will flee and my heart and mind can be free of uncertainty.
Zero Nine Jun 2017
When you leave
A deeper shard of me
Flees til you return

When you breathe
You steal none of my parts
You my love, gift me
I gift you my energies
Four.

For Toby.
Donielle Apr 2017
A low rumble within my soul,
a flash of light in my eyes,
blinding,
leaving me without a glint
of hope.
Tears,
much hotter than a normal rain.
My body trembles with the fear
of not knowing,
the pain of surprise.
The wind blows within me,
and my hair stands on end.
Fight-or-flight time;
so often I've stood to fight,
only to be the fool in the end.
This time I feel it,
electricity in my legs,
pulsing.
A signal to run,
I can already feel
my feet pounding the concrete
like a hammer,
blowing the sidewalk to pieces
while my toes crunch in my shoes.
I run,
as fast as my body will take me,
far away from the place
where my heart lies
in shambles,
scattered among our ashes.
The Trumpoet Feb 2017
Donald Trump has slammed the door
on families that had to flee
from zealots who perverted faith
and turned them into refugees.

He made a list of seven lands
where free will's treated as a sin.
Their people flee to squalid camps
until a new land lets them in.

But Donald Trump has made it clear;
he hates on basis of belief.
He's stoking ignorance and fear,
inspiring terrorism's grief.

These refugees have nothing left
but hope and will to work so hard
to build a free and better life,
but now they've been locked out and barred.

What of the Muslims in the states
who patriotically defended
the land whose leader now spews hate?
Is all their hope and love now ended?

Someday, if karma catches Trump,
he'll lose it all and have to flee.
Let him experience, first-hand,
the tears of the refugee.
You can also see this and my other Trump poems at: www.trumpoet.com
Link to video of this poem: https://youtu.be/ZUqLL0_bh6w
Written January 29, 2017
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