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Who are you?
A boat for me to paddle
Or a paddle for my boat

Are you for me?
Or are you against me?

Let every controversy lay aside
Let every pretence stand void
Identify your warrior
Clear your disbelief.
Mane Omsy Dec 2018
Take a saw
And cut me down deeply
Slowly,
Starting from my head
Through my heart,
Down to my sick belly
So, I could feel the agony
You poured on me
Vengeance might be a way
But I will settle down for a say
Like a boiling water on ice
Dripping the pain into my veins
You shall succeed being a monster
A stranger after all we did
Together, snitching out on me
Being suspended from work with my friend snitching on me (lies actually). There is nothing but pain for what he had done after all we have been through.
Karijinbba Nov 2018
I thank you all poets poetessess moderators this thanks giving.
To one or two foe serpents in my paradise writing uglily to me on HP, I am sorry I had to block you and your friends since I am highly intuitive.
One of you posing as female sent me to your page drawing a page full of scissors! without a word in it very cruel sadistic of her an old poisonous snake from my old paradise hanously destructive. Another a female wrote mocking a woman aborting her child!! Abortion is legal to me only if medically adviced.
Grow a brain write, don't mock or judge me. The only child I aborted was one whose heart had stoped due to massive antibiotic dose prescribed by a butcher because MD he was not. That was my missfortune and your oportunity.
What is it to you anyway to write to me derrogatorily so?. It happened in my teens! Long ago. ENOUGH!
I had to block you. I am highly intuitive and gifted first pure blood RHO negative.
I know it's you even when you hide masked behind this HP mirrors.
Please make peace with your ghosts, head voices or seek medical psychiatric help, many of you need it. Poetry isn't to mock hate assault the mind heart and soul of fellow men and women who communicate beautifully even in their distress but evil won't be rewarded or tolerated not by me, if you play your holier than me role.

Theres plenty malice where I am no need for me to pay monthly to be cursed on here.
Please spread love, live life forgive yourself be genuine, share your true life experiences, instead of looking who to dishonor and hate.
For the one or two females who created an account just to spread evil grow a heart a brain and then tell us how you did it.
we might even apreciate your courage to share!
My past love life with wealthiest elite true love, sweetheart soulmate, twin flame isn't any of your business.

G* d, and cause and effect in the universe are my only judges not a malignant infective fungus poor excuse, a human **** like yourselves who tried to defile me unprovoqued undeserved and unsolicited.
You are forgiven and loved still but I had to block you. I don't reward or ignore destructive behaviors.
To all genuine poets moderators and poetessess be well
Happy Thanks giving this November 2018.
All the best to you all

As for killing a turkey,
for six years now, I forgive the turkey and spared it's life but I still have fun eating all other delights of season's greetings.

also I love and pamper myself
I am my own best friend
so that loving, tolerating and understanding others becomes that much easier and enjoyable.
Happy Thanks Giving
PEACE TO ALL FRIEND AND FOE
(!*:):;;;.
Bryce Nov 2018
The coca-cola breath!
Flashing lights, tweetie birds, the rough narcotic stench

The sky is devoid, it is scared of the streets etched in starlight, everything shining-- tangerine and Coit and ohhhh boy
don't'cha know what you're in for?

Twilight and she is a figment on my mind
the bark of cigar is fiery opal on my slender frame
I can hear something along the lanes of love
Echoing behind me, the rising sun

Funny dudes in new suits, pressed, steamed, machine-rolled
pills in the pockets
shipped locomotive
Every etching has its china
every etching is porcelain skin
The fog is a silken balloon, unconcerned, wayward
The men longingly abide in its cool, the breath of an over-excited lover, singing in the showerhead an embarrassing microphone
over the west coast

It's all over! it's the end
the roads are devoid of the things that called you
They are a clarion horn on the Claremont, facades etched with windowpanes
here the americans eat tofu and pretend it's bacon

I am in the rapidly rotating spoke, enjoying the taste of woodchuck, upchucking my guts every Sunday, white knuckle-- praying to god
release
release

what a steal that's a fantastic car for the price!
it is only 10 years of payment
only 10!
House worth 40, kids worth 60, medicinal payments
corn flakes
Fortified iron gates and god says,
naw let them all out until they drown,
I'll never flood the earth but I'll make it puddles
and if they want they can lay face down

I am eating Korean stew and wondering what will happen
when unification builds a railroad from Moscow to Busan
I will travel it and write a novel or two
it will be
"On the Railroad"
and start in San Francisco or a little while outside
on an October evening with not a fog in the sky
Just sky, blue, blue sky
A child on the hillside
blowing bubbles in the apartment complex or the gravel mound
next to new homes, now cookiebread gingerbed frames
Doing tricks on BMX bikes, getting our elbows smashed, a designated paramedic
It's all built up now, concrete streets and lonely streetcorner lamps saying
Hey we're gonna light up this little space
Hope you don't mind
Please don't play too loud

And given that these spheroids are monumentally moving
hurling like a pitched water glass
everything staying put under the motion of it
Such a lovely rooting of mass

I will call alongside it, crawling towards answers etching on murals and on the stamping of curbs
E-5 West main
4451 Lowell Street
554 Happy Valley Road
It's all the fun little tributaries of surface waters
heading with precognition towards seas
roped into it by specific gravity

On the phone i spoke to Mr. Victorious
I asked him about his particular drone
down south there in the more direct limelight of the night
he told me about his uncle, in prose
of course
we just hung our heads over the speakerphone
Not sleeping the way we should
shouldering burdens as ***** in deserted zones
laughing and preaching to cottonfields

Then there was the girl
the one we forgot, truth be told
The one unrequited impetus for all art, all physicality and feeling
loved by god in the corporeal
She is the saffron reed in my eye, the one i forgot to preach Victory to
She that one oblong pebble, rolled by the stream
passing our campgrounds and continuing her journey to sands
small little microscopic tetrahedral perfection
I could get stuck in between my teeth
or perhaps left on the sweat of the skin
the lost moments of beachside living, love for the expansiveness, left in the diner seat of the car, gotta keep moving
Carrying her away and if not careful,
nestling her back atop the summits from whence she came.

it is a cola in the glass on the shores of the bay,
it is a divine moment of contact in the oceans
two sailors acknowledging their vessels
with light shows and the play of eye
off the horizon, a green light o' sprite.
Camryn Oct 2018
You go through life
Trying to live everyday,
keeping your head held high,
and not care what people say.

But it’s hard to ignore,
When people look at you,
and whisper quietly,
talking to people you knew.

Their judgemental glances,
and the tone in your voices,
judging your looks
and judging your choices.

So stick to your friends,
and block out your foe,
Because you have great qualities,
More than you know.
as Jacob's
ladder alas
chary puff
adder as
his ascent
harried suffragette
herein the
milkweed but
wary she
fled if
a rabbit
heard her
plea again
and butterflies
here like
epistle with
wind chimes
an ascent to god
Rezium Jul 2018
Center attention.
There's where you stand.
Look no further or less.
Break and you'll find X.

Understand we have to cover where you stand
Otherwise you'll be dragged into foreign land.
There you see just one belief.
Or else you'll be seen as the enemy.

I guess our house divided helped me see,
No one is correct.
Not even me.
Avengers together, but we all fall alone.
Family drama is just another living issue
Dean Russell Jul 2018
Weathered eyes
Watching I
Wondering why
Stupefied.
Either the tale is
Wrong
Or, surely! not yet another
Lie?
‘Here within the story lies’
I heard you whisper;
And I just thought you meant
‘You made your bed’
(did i steal your whispers?)
So let’s not deny
The bed,
Another tale yet to be said -
Because another fable
Makes me feel unable
To know knowledge.
Then again.
Then again, Maybe it was never meant for
One.
One plus one isn’t always an equation;
Just separate entities
Together again, are you now an
Enemy?
I don’t know where it came from, yet here it is.
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