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Oluwatobi 12h
I told myself it was only for a night
So I hid it out of sight
But each night
I lose my fight
And succumb to the temptation
Then I welcome the guilt
And the crazy thoughts.
I often pray for redemption
And strength to overcome this addiction
But sometimes I think I don’t give my best
Because I always fail the same test.
Oluwatobiloba Kolawole
September 2018
First assignment done
Feeling relieved and weary
Also really sore
OMG that assignment took forever but I finally got it done.
I'm so tired, but you know what that means!
I'm free tomorrow and on the weekend!
The next part of the Masked Bard will be out on the morrow.
Right now, my brain is mush...
Love you guys! Thank you for being so patient and supportive!
See ya tomorrow!
Lyn xxx
Aa Harvey 22h
For your benefit.

Another rat inside a cage;
An experiment gone wrong.
So set me free, or kill your slave,
Or please just let me go.

I have my rage locked in a cage,
It’s ready to explode.
My teeth are razors and my claws are sharp,
My blood is running cold.

It’s scary here, they smell your fear,
They like to cause you pain.
It’s all so dark, I cry, I hurt;
Things will always be this way.

Entrapped by them to do as they wish.
My needs are ignored; I am unable to think,
Or do anything you take for granted.
Here they come again, time for another scraping.

Another patch where they took my skin.
Just chopped it off; did they think about me?
When they cut us up and then wait for us to die.
Give us exercise in a maze, then pour acid in our eyes.

Oh that smells nice.  It’s a new perfume.
I’m choking, I’m blind; what the Hell are you doing?
Experimenting?  I’m just a little mouse.
They chopped off my tail to make me less immense.

I’m too fat for them, so they starve me in my cage.
There are hundreds of us here; we know we won’t be saved.
We’re just to be used to help the human race.
So goodbye to life and happiness; come burn me once again.

(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Michael 1d
When we are running
We are not thinking
When we are lot thinking
We are truly living.

We imprison ourselves in thought
We prevent ourselves from growing
We stay stuck in the same place
Which stops us from going.

If only we could be
Both thoughtful and free
Only then in life
Could we get what we need.

We restrict ourselves from growth
We build a prison out of the mundane
We see freedom outside
And we tell it to go away.

If only I could see
What I does to me,
If only you could believe,
What you do to you.
Just a few thoughts on how much us humans restrict ourselves.
Dez 1d
Depression is my soulmate
He fell in love with me
He couldn't wait
Depression lays in bed with me at night
Follows me in my dreams
Holds me back from the light
He wants me all to himself
He whispers sweet nothings in my ear
Convincing me I can't survive by myself
I try to get away
but he holds so tight
He says I  have to stay
He pulls me close, slow dances with me
When I'm with him , he recites ever bad memory of the day
I start to believe this is all my life will be
I want to think it isn't true
but,is it?
It might be?
I have no clue
Depression doesn't like when I have a friend
He gets jealous of happiness
He makes a big fuss and that's usually the end
When they leave and he reminds me , hes here to stay
I lay in my bed,crying
He comes , holds me till I'm okay
I know I should get away ,find help
But not even my mother believes me ... whelp
Depression meet my parents without my knowing
He made them think when I'm free from him ,the real me isn't showing
I guess hes my better half
The side of me that makes them laugh
But I can't get away , it too late
I lost the key to freedom's gate
Apparently this is my fate
Depression is my soulmate
Unconditional love
Amazing journey above
Truth or Lie?
Or just one more catchphrase?
Freedom or the Cage
Freedom in a cage
Hard decision  
We have to make
Complexity and fluidity
Loving without condition
Behavior versus a feeling
No more restriction
No chains or anchors.
Spread your wings
Start to fly above
I have no idea why I´m writing it.
Ms Noma Jul 29
I wish I could escape
This life of mine I hate
I wish that I could shape
A life with better fate

What’s the point of God?
If all he does is watch
I wonder does he nod,
Or turn up my pain a notch?

A silent, passive ghost
That’s what I’ve become
Living off a host
And withering in glum

Wake up and make some noise
I urge my ghostly self
Your life is full of choice
As long as you’ve good health

I know tis but a phase
I pray its end is near
I’m tired of this maze
That’s trapping me in fear

I know I’m in a cycle
An endless, spinning wheel
I’m afraid to take the fall
And face up to what is real.
Ms Noma Aug 5
Being unhappy
Stresses me out
I go all crappy
And fill up on self-doubt

It consumes me
It eats me
Unfree me
Let me be

Disorder and mess
Become my companions
That good old stress
I need to abandon

To live carefree
And soar to the sky
To live vicariously
Is to live in a lie
This is a sestina, written in protest of traditional poetry forms.
I wrote it in 1997, to a group prompt to write a sestina, when I was part of a juried online poet's community. We were assigned 6 words.
My words were: rain/dripping/emulation/trend/threat/violation

A sestina is a poem with six stanzas, of six lines, and a final triplet, with all stanzas having the same six words at the end of the lines, in six different sequences, that follow a fixed pattern. All six words must appear in the closing triplet. The fixed pattern of the stanzas is:
a,b,c,d,e,f - f,a,e,b,d,c - c,f,d,a,b,e - e,c,b,f,a,d - d,e,a,c,f,b - b,d,f,e,c,a
The pattern for the ending triplet, called the envoi, is:

Here is my ironic protest of traditional poetry form, :-) written (very tongue-in-cheek) in the traditional poetry form of the sestina. This is:


this poet's soul is drowning in this rain
heart, mind, and spirit freely dripping
pursuing a verse of sestinal emulation
for me this storm of six's will never trend
it is a soul-debilitating stifling threat
its affect upon free-thinking — a violation

repressive is this cruel violation
turns my poet's soul cold as freezing rain
my promise to rebel is not just threat
I’ll douse this form in oil until it’s dripping
then torch this poetic horror to start a trend
hoping all poets will do the same in emulation

bards unite, embrace this pyro-emulation
enlightened poets strike down this creative violation
full freedom of expression must be the trend
rise up against conformity's bitter rain
no matter if your storm-tossed, drowned and dripping
it's imperative we squelch this awful threat

lovers of structure do not grasp this tacit threat
they will not join our valiant ranks in emulation
their writer’s spirit grows weak — its lifeblood dripping
but I’ll stand strong and resist this violation
so let the rules and regulations fall like rain
our move to free unfettered voice be the next trend

a powerful and forward moving trend
that will thwart this fascist literary threat
and bring those, that see the light, in from the rain
to take up our cause in knowing emulation
to unite against this creative violation
that would have us on our knees — tears dripping

formless verse is sweet and rich as honey dripping
an uplifting and most liberating trend
true voice freely spoken is no violation
emancipating poets is not a threat
take up you pens in joyful emulation
and clear the poetry skies of drowning rain

this regressive trend, towards mindless structure - cold as rain
unbound expression's not violation, it's freedom's emulation
unencumbered verse is sweet nectar dripping, not a threat


rob kistner © 1997
I am sending this sestina because I've been under the weather for a bit, and am feeling cantankerous. So I wanted to rant about something. I dug up this old poem, so in a very classic form, I have chosen to rant about my feelings regarding traditional poetry forms. Felt an appropriate fir HePo.
MaxiM May 29
To believe the lie is to believe you are free.
MaxiM7: Caution
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