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low by day    a massive moon full
a bowl of candy pallor            
and this city is taken   to a more charming realm

more than one figure takes out a camera
aims                  and   i am not a real person
     but i am represented
       by an attempt     at something 'in bounds'
                       playing it safe
i feel like greeting
     and if truly bold  asking others
      of the quality of their experience right now
nov/24

[early version
Hello / I’m not a real person / But I am represented by an attempt/ A massive full moon /Pink and low by day/The city is taken to a more beautiful planet]
Em MacKenzie Dec 11
Empty pocket and empty plates;
safely locked it away still it dissipates,
a climber of corpses climbs high to something great,
and the rest of us are buried standing within this fate.

Life wouldn’t be tragic if it wasn’t also funny,
it seems to lose a lot of magic when you lose alot of money.
Life’s a ***** but isn’t she powerful?
It’s time to eat the rich because we weren’t born full.

The people’s scale is forever weighing
basic human rights against complete anarchy.
The right choice seems obvious to me, obviously,
but the indecision’s crazy with the lack of priorities.
A climber of corpses climbs high to heights we’ll never see,
I’d rather be a stone than those doing the stoning.

Life wouldn’t be tragic if it wasn’t also funny,
I think that I’ve had it with their vinegar disguised as honey.
I won’t make another stitch in their golden wool,
it’s time to eat the rich ‘cause we weren’t born full.

A bullet in the street shot from behind;
validated and woke up millions.
No retreat and not changing their minds;
vilified for targeting their billions.

If they really cared they’d ask if you could buy morality,
though typically they’d see if they could find it on sale.
The funniest part is that they could acquire it for free
but it’d be just like giving an atheist the Holy Grail.

Life wouldn’t be tragic if it wasn’t also funny,
it seems to lose a lot of magic when you lose alot of money.
Life’s a ***** but isn’t she powerful?
It’s time to eat the rich because we weren’t born full.

Life wouldn’t be tragic if it wasn’t also funny,
more bills; they stack it and the weather stays sunny.
Rock bottom in a ditch, dazed and in a lull
now it’s time eat the rich ‘cause we weren’t born full.
I think we all know how it feels right now.
Wrap this moment wider into time
Longer evenings would be sublime
To muse over all the fluff
These moments stretched long enough
To cherish and breath the cool night air
And believe I haven't got a care

Time is gone in the blink of an eye
No matter days be long, or days be short
Never enough time for you and I
Or for my mind to wander and transport

Air unempty
Life full
Another addition nearly in bay
Blessed aplenty
Glassful
The dance of Life, a riveting ballet
Mark Wanless May 6
empty black beans can
full of cigarette butts the
smell is unnoticed
Bekah Halle Jan 1
The time taken was not what I dreamed
of, craggy paths, dead ends, or so it seemed.
But now, with back a turn, I see a glimmer,
of the bigger picture, that calls me nearer.
With eyes wide open, listening ears;
a heart full and my spirit clear,
peace and acceptance: my purified pearl.
Thomas W Case Apr 2023
If you can no longer bear life's clenched fist, it's random smashing of all your hope, dreams, desires, and passion,
be drunk.

Be drunk on wine, music, poetry by the pages, or, on the agelessness of the silky moss covered pond or the fog thick meadows.

If you would not feel time's ticking brutality, be drunk.
If all memory does is remind you of the losses, the deaths, the divorces, the regrets, the remorse over your high ideals and standards, and your much lower behavior, choices, and antics; when life seems anti-climactic, be drunk.

As loneliness becomes like a rotten tooth, hot flashing pain, and the stain on your heart and hands won't come out, be drunk.

Whether it be *****, poetry, nature or music, be full, filled, consumed.

Until the glare of this cruel world becomes a soft gentle blur, be drunk and entombed.
Mark Wanless Apr 2023
full oblivion
or demand of consciousness
i am i am i
LC Apr 2022
sweet, full, red apples
plucked, crushed, pulverized to chill -
loved in scorching heat.
Escapril Day 5! The prompt was "crush." I used the definition "a drink made from the juice of pressed fruit" to create this poem. I hope you enjoy it!
Andrew Rueter Feb 2022
Pain is the payment we pay
to do anything worth doing
Raven Feels Feb 2022
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, version two?

I feel content
for I thought it to be satisfaction in a poem sent
yet the polars are polars
despite a fine line in between growing bolder
listen
for I define my own definition
satisfaction is the acceptance fulfilled
of having a cup half filled
yet content is the embrace of the enough
it's so humble to be touched
appreciating the made
for the reflection might be a blade
for the youth
for the drain for the truth
the empty half & the half full state
hoping for a better taste
from the cup before
lips to stumble none or nor

                                                            ­                     -------ravenfeels
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