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count your lucky stars
before they’re plucked from the skies
like ships capsizing in the night
like astray cat’s eyes
as we careen from green hills
with purpose and pride
driving through the night
diving into rising tides
count your lucky scars
if you live long enough to heal them
Äŧül Jan 2020
Now
You must read my novel. I don't make any money from the hard-copy sales. It's the lowest possible price that I fixed for it. I did so because I want people to read it and take home the goodness hidden in its story.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1520680961
Don't give negative comments here. It's not spam. It's an ambitious suggestion.
Cody Haag Dec 2015
Earlier today,
I laid outside atop the snow,
A feat that I haven't tried
Since life's true colors showed.

The frost numbed my body,
I'm sure red flushed into my cheeks;
I stared speculatively at the sky,
My eyes searched and seeked.

I wanted to understand the beauty,
That nature offers so readily, the solace,
That it blankets us in even on cold days;
I wanted to understand beauty that is flawless.

My tired eyes embraced small, soaring figures
That coursed through the air with grace;
Content to go their own paths,
Not engaged in a petty race.

The figures were falcons,
That spiraled and sailed on wind above me,
Probably heading south,
For warmth to set them free.

But in that moment I compared them
To man-produced ashes;
Gray soot that courses through the air
Dashes, in varying directions,
As fire burns.

In that moment, the birds drifted through the air
So aimlessly, like the ashes do,
Landing faraway,
Wherever they flew.

Nature itself could be ashes,
If people continue on this path;
This destruction ought to incur
Some sort-of wrath.
Idiosyncrasy Jul 2015
Van
I guess you have a new companion
And I guess I'm no longer the one who fuels you.

I guess you've changed roads
But I guess I'm still searching for your tracks.

I guess you turned off the front lights
But I guess I'd still be expecting it in the dark.

I guess you're moving on
But I guess I'll always be waiting for you at the stop.
Matthew Randell May 2015
The oil is gone, gone is the oil,

There is no oil for us to boil,

To power our cars,

To package our bars,

We need oil, oil, precious oil,

How we miss our material plastic,

We made everything out of it, it was fantastic!

Car batteries and glue,

Computers, shampoo,

All made out of precious oil,

Alas, it’s shuffled off its mortal coil,

Goodbye, goodbye to our fair oil,

Without our plastic,

Things are quite drastic,

All our cars are beyond repair,

There’s no more shampoo for our hair,

And on what do you think we do a poo,

Plastic toilet seats you cry,

it tell you, that’s not true!

You don’t even know how I’m typing this,

Computers are gone now – don’t dis!

Life really ***** without oil,

In 2011, it must have been royal,

A word of wisdom to those with oil about,

Look after it dearly, don’t let it run out!
Mohammad Skati Feb 2015
A lone wolf searches for                                                                                           Innocent victims just to replenish                                                                            One's inner world that one lived it                                                                          For a long,long time ...                                                                                             Hatred never builds glories                                                                                      Simply because it means only that                                                                         Huge collapse of one's morality anytime and                                                            It fuels others' anger for those bad things                                                               That come out of that ugly hatred anytime ....

— The End —