Our house is flooded
stop crying, its not helping
only adding more
armies of flood rush,
inundate all at its sight;
rude clouds laugh aloud!
Maxim Keyfman Jul 10
today's ships sailed in the fog and all floated
and the light burned and the light went out and the
light was on and everything was on fire
the moon was in the sky and the stars and the sun
and clouds and fog
even apples in front were even apples burned like stars
the boats were floating today in the fog and everyone
was swimming and swimming
and the sea rocked swaying in the wind my huge rocked
and the mirrors broke and the mirrors spread out to small
small grains of light and darkness of night tasty light
on ships they will never stop and they all swim and swim
and paint brushes and paint them paint and canvas appear
they emerge from nowhere from where
yes yes yes yes yes my ships yes
and the lamp is not set that she did not know what to do today


fog spread through the corridors fog flood our ears and eyes
and that in my eyes that in your eyes oh crystals are hidden
about in the eyes of the unknown in the eyes of death and the birth of death
and what is death, what is birth, and no one knows
floated swammed in a distant ocean in the distant ocean which
consisted of stars and planets of stars and planets and marine environments
floated ships sailed in the distant ocean and my eyes burned and eyes
My burned and then again and again faded as never happened
what is ashes what is the disappearance and nobody nobody nobody
does not even know just everyone knows about the ships of the sea
which so many times rush in this ocean of the sea which all
clouds in the way they devoured and devoured forever
about floating floating in the sea wonderful gold ships starry ours

07.07.18
Shelly Chu Jul 3
We will rise, Rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, We will rise.
No waterfall will take us down,
No flood of rain or broken walls,
No white of winter can tear us up.
So why should tears destroy us?
We will lose everything at once,
But we will rise, rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, we will rise.
And we can hope for sunny rays,
But what’s the use during lazy days?
So we will rise, take action in our pain.
Find comfort in our cries.
And when no one else can save us,
We’ll rise up on our own.
I swear we’ll be okay.
With all our efforts theirs no other way.
No heart of gold can help us,
If our heart is made of stone.
So let’s open up our arms,
And bloom through the rocks.
On our own or by ourselves
We will stand our ground.
Cause we will rise, rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, we will rise.
The little town I’m from flooded recently and this is a poem I wrote for my community.
we ran, to beat rain ,
huddled seeking tree’s cover;
a flood of time passed!

How long wilt thou - this generation of deceit and joy – detain,
Starve, and defraud the people of our holiest reign?
Content ingloriously wasted to pass by as our falling days,
Like the flooding rains, as virtuous fools chase each other’s praise:
Till all thy fleshly allegories, now dimmed once shined so bright
As the multitudes grow stale - tarnished with each day’s new light.
Please believe me, ye youth by whose royal fruit thy must be
Gathered before ripened - else ye rot upon the tree.
Heaven itself must be sufficiently allotted, soon of late,
Like some unlucky youthful revolution born purely out of fate.
This false fate whose notions if we watch with skill,
For does not human good depend on human will?
Fortune rolls upward like lava, smoothly it does ascend,
From its first release, it takes not the bend.
But, if un-seized, it glides away like the wind
And leaves us - a late repenting fool far behind.
Now to meet with you, the you reading of this glorious prize,
As I spread these wisdom words before you as above you he flies.
Had thus Old Noah, from whose loins we all offspring,
Not dared, when fortune called him to be the lead offering,
At the bottom of the ocean in exile he might still remain
And Heaven's sacred anointing oil would have been in vain.
Let Noah’s successional ages to your heart engage
And not shun the examples of this prophesized declining age.
For behold soon there comes three days of darkness to the skies,
As the shadows lengthen into the airs and then we slowly vaporize.

Watching the weather, all the earthquakes, the volcano eruptions, the crazy skies and all - well - if you haven't thought about some of the prophecy you've always heard then perhaps this poem makes very little sense to you. But on the off chance that while you read this piece you too have noticed the weird strangeness now enveloping the globe then maybe you can appreciate why I had to write this.
Sam May 10
Spiral of iron, blinded eye. The rage
and the cold and the colossus sing.
Thunderous ghosts tread the wheat and the rye, ageless
these torrents and the ire they bring.

Calamity drifting, flood in the sky. The storm,
the storm will unmake you and me.
Lost to the water, strangled. Soaked.
Bones are the feast for the roots of the trees.

Cities extinguished, the stars burn alone, beyond
sight, beyond reach. The tempests play:
drown the mountains, the temples, the stories, the songs.
The water is rising, our verge is a wave.
Not usually one for rhyming poetry. Hope you enjoy!
Ella Apr 18
It's hard to find the sunrise when you're a storm
Hard to find anything in the dark
Even harder to transform

It's hard to stop swimming when you know there's a shark
Waiting for more blood
But you were my spark

I was drowning in a flash flood
Not really trying
You pulled me up, dragged me out of the mud

I felt like dying
Straight to the point
But now, I feel like flying

I'm terrified to disappoint
I want to be the best for you

You are my only one
My checkpoint.
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