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Kristaps Sep 28
Rough on the breath, grazing the neck
the USSR prunes count her days, she
counts her copper,
to tally her time,
now seems pointless.

One for the beak, one for Eve,
mother's tears
couldn't get past two, but
her old skin hanger arms could,
one for apple juice
one for her fur.

Afterward, everything gave
she couldn't retell the old saying
about the fruit and the trees,
but there was no need

So may the hags hag and
the prunes prune
for to rot so far
is to get used to a graze
and then to mimick
the gardener;
to count
Silverflame Sep 27
I let go of my first love before it had a chance to bloom.
I watched it fall with autumn into the descending moon.

But here we are again; talking about yesterday's tune.
It's like nothing ever happened, and thus my pain resumes.
julianna Sep 1
What’s the point of counting days
If they all blend together?
Pill one counts for Saturday, pill two is for Sunday...3, 4, 5, 6, until Friday.
And those are all my days.
Tomorrow will be like today
And yesterday like forever.
Because if anything is futile, it’s that futility is a fact.
Johnson Jul 8
Weeks turn into months
The months drag on for years
As the clocks hands violently spin
Time seems to eloquently disappear

Lying for what seems to be eons
In hollow shell that once was
Praying for a new tomorrow
Never seemingly comes

The suns rays gently shine through
Only tease me with a glimmer of hope
That never seems to ensue
Wishing the warmth I have felt I never knew

Visual wonder seems to blend
Into an everlasting monotone grey
Staring into the empty wall
No stimulation to relieve my pain

Joy is nothing but word
For the mere feeling is left heard
And by my hands alone I sink
Into the darkness of night I’m never assured  

For imagination can thwart the coming days
Relieve my mind traveling on an escape
But for how long must you hold fast
Slowly as it becomes a twisted decay

For what I want I try to reach to grab
Only to grasp a hold for mere seconds
Slowly slipping through cracks of my hands
Returning to a bleak existence

As you search for the good you wish to find
In those few faces that abound
Your own misanthropic views
Seem to chase away those who are sound

So alone as you are to thee you must face
As your mind tears itself apart on endless race
Slowly you try as you fight against an uphill *****
Left to your own devices endless suffering without hope
nihiliti Jun 17
fragile as an egg
I ***** my skull over the page
and astral project my discontent
in order to witness my disconnect

the black oozes out
and takes its sweet time
to reach for the sheets
of paper to rhyme
my disillusionment
with suffering not mine
it speaks to me
all of the time

grasping the page
black eases in
to fill the void again
in vain attempt to connect
the patterns perceived
by my hand-selected memories

filed all orderly
they spill out in a heap
and soak in paper-deep
it's not enough
and it will never be enough
but blood must be spilled
in order to keep
my gods alive

they wane with the tides
sanguine and weak
I give all I have
but it rarely seems
to have an effect other than
a brief reprieve
for myself
it doesn't help
or decrease
their suffering...

so I weave words together
to spellbind the weather
from washing away
all I've worked to achieve
and perceive with augury
and sorcery and poetry
all scratched in the earth
so the world might hear me

vocalizations and invocations
fail to sway the rocks--
stone-faced, anthropomorphic rocks
--that just stare at me
secretly laughing
they're happy
their suffering

my gods are dying!
and I'm trying
to find a cure
but it isn't working
and more and more
I'm sure that

a congregation of one is not enough
Is it all in my mind, or have I seen too much?
Simra Sadaf Apr 29
after he was dead
his ghost came to visit her
impassive and emotionless
he sat in front of her
begging to be noticed
whispering apologies
it was futile and in vain
cause she buried him in her mind
and left him to rot there.
Try and succeed to relieve all that is needed from need and all you shall receive from life is but a dream, yet painful sorrows and melancholic mellows show true despair in the form of shadows.
To what do I deserve this existence fated, shall I remind you of how we were created and bated into believing there is a reason for life's unjustifiable treasons or do you merely conceive this dimension of its meaningless meanness. For it is despair that intertwines convoluted parallel exultancy. That and the indulgent parade of unmistakably acceptable pleasantries that life's joy brings to me.
Any feedback would be greatly appreciated as it would advance my writing allowing me to progress. Thankyou.
Ash Mar 2
I would apologize but it would be futile,
Since an apology is meant to serve as a promise that one will never let something of the contextual nature happen again.
But I can’t promise you anything
Because I know this'll just happen again.
Of all the facets I have
You just had to find me wearing this one.
William A Poppen Dec 2017
Brown and withered
Who could foresee
How tenuous was the
Hold on earth

Embedded deep
Surrounded by soft
loam, lightly tethered
There was slight resistance

Efforts to replace
Prove futile
Remnants of what
Once appeared to thrive

Lie gathered among
Scraps decaying
In the morning sunlight
When the weather turns cold, hosta foliage "melts" like tissue paper. Clearing away this foliage in late fall will make way for new growth.
preface: prays of purse filled legal tender
this ****** NOT ******
   (hue coward know who eye mean)
   hie do attest

that poetry may not be best
to express whoosh to chest
*** a lee till bitta chump change
boot overpowering literary force 

   to pocket earning for a grange
(hmm...who knows maybe
   formerly owned by Jessica Lange 
thence might be within my financial range
even though this har chap 
   decades older than college student - iz that strange?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Let this dog gone prime mate ova simian sketch out 
   his general doggerel to free
unleashing a swiftly tale lord 
   of the flies - harried styled brush ****** of strengths
me retracted claws, which might find me 

   barking up the wrong tree arf find yarself
cat a tonic taking a nap - 
   in the land of doctor ah zee.

akin to a termite expending energy 
   thru wood to bore search sans income 
   an arduous slow book king chore thus,
   i spruce quest per 
   my non-conformist poetic je ne sais quois x cell lent 
   cover letter de jour 4u2 access and for me 

   to entertain as a minimum less or more
and then...whoosh
   into circular filing cabinet ye will store
this non-formal reap ply, 
   which email will take cyberspace tour.

Pixar could nada pay enough 
   for this trainer of apple chomping antz 
so i wonder if any chance 
   whisker of employment 
vis a vis thru this contrived virtual toy story 

   qua ratatouille poetic brew 
could materialize opening virtual community chest 
   into a likely monopoly winning chance 
such an idea generates me 

   to shrek out with excitement n contra dance 
just in case a glimmer of some prospect exists 
for this self anointed bard, who dislikes formality
presents a brief poo whet tick summation
   sans technical skills, he hopes to enhance 

p'raps earn enough moolah to see arc d'triumph, 
 Louvre, Paris France i offer
   the following poetic expression 
   for ye to take a glance 
and help this intuitive **** sapiens income
   to expand and en-hance, 

which byte size bit torrent humor 
   without use of strong arm, nor lance
   might cause ye to soil pants 
after misinterpreting mishmash 
   as some rave and rants 
part time con sit hard so positive stance 
   a subtle intent worth hiring, 
   2 sway au currant series electronic charge 
and ideally affect hypnotic trance.

betcha never red a poe sting like this faux 
   iambic pentameter electronic wire 
   from boyish looking blood muggle 
   father up in years (whose nonpareil courage 
   to face voldemort never does tire) 

and two grown girls 
   would consider him a worthy hire 
to rake in gobs of legal tender,
   satiating unquenchable hunger 
   hunger game of thrones,
   and thirst qua knowledge = powerful
for bits of computer know how to acquire.

this cover letter of sorts conveys
   teensy weensy, itty bitty 
byte size actual work experience 
   (this older mister rhyme stir 
   lives northwest of philadelphia city) 

kenye bull heave that,
   nonetheless, i hanker 
   (NOT  confused with HACKER)
   though disparate deeds offset
   by difference of third letter 
to employ computer and writing skills, 

   + rooted tid bits of moxie playing at nearby Roxy 
burrow, which prompts the following ditty 
express interest to apply mental tasks
   ala computer trouble shooting 
some may ascribe as nitty gritty 

on par with secret life of Walter Mitty 
whom destiny protected and took pity 
this merely meant to be silly 
   yet also attempted to be witty.

No matter how many miles by car 
(actual company might be within dead
   man walking distance) 
   opportunity not be considered to far 

using acumen huck cull interest 
   and technologically spar 
+ graphical user interface programs
   to get unstuck from virtual feathery tar.

Iambic pentameter might be faux pas
   not the traditional standard genre 
   for a cover letter 
i see no reason why 
   non-conformist modus operandi 
cannot serve as mode

   to communicate pursuit viz philologist technician 
   and paperback writer wannabe, 
   cuz i love each english language letter,
which honest to goodness confession 
   hopefully offers unique outlook re: 
   other respondents at least a bit better.

this pure breed mud half blood muggle prince 
born (whom most think me full o hogwash 
   to *** rid of hog wort) - yea 
truth seeker for employment reckons
   the following poetic way 

not necessarily follows formalities 
   to reply would readily say, 
yet why adhere to conformity, 
   which paradigm frowns on creativity 
atypical modus operandi to reply

   positive job offer i pray 
even if outcome per offering interest 
   turns out to be nay 
perhaps because where mien hometown 
   west of philadelphia lay
boot methinks tis cuz mine longish
   wavy hair follicles fifty shades of gray.

no employment vitae shows dearth 
hence decided to resort - thou add verse 
   to induce a byte size mirth 
of requisite (sought after) technical expertise,
   possessing attributes FitBit wool worth consideration --

   so just allow me to boast 
blithely riding iambic pentameter to coast 
given opportunity to eradicate
re: exorcise binary electronic bookworm 
   even Casper the friendly ghost 

n offer bytes of helpful information from pc host 
information technology position tacked on fence post 
with sought after salary goal fair n equitably per year 
would necessitate celebration 
   tete a tete vis a vis teetotaler toast.

So...without further ado, i slightly brag 
telling ability to conduct understand bit size crag
reckon obsolete intricacies such as dos 
    passé, and hardly requisite material,
   i learned to manage 
   common system utilities 
   such as scan disk and defrag 

installed and resolved dsl issues,
   performed scan-disk and troubleshooting glitches 
removal of dos files, installation 
   and/or removal of hardware 
uninstalling software, running registry sweeps 

attempting to remove bugs and errors
   causing machine to cough and gag, 
which invariably causes processes
   as downloading, sending, uploading, et cetera to lag
if chance smiles on consideration --
   a happy go lucky dog this tail will wag.

oh...by the way, i would accept a starting 
and/or negotiable salary as a starting wage 
in an effort to support this self proclaimed sage 
whose role can double up as a court jester, 
   Batman joker, or jimmy john page 

hopeful this poetic synopsis 
   offers favorable gauge 
in tandem enriching fount of knowledge
   More valuable at this advanced age.

y'all might think this reply balderdash and rot 
which may matter on par bo diddly squat 
no matter i herald from skid row royalty
   with salient strengths being prestigious Scott 
**** tuckus, butta Matthew Harris 

   does not smoke ***** 
   nor drink from a *** 
and a student he is not 
nor a gentleman quarterly kennedyesque fellow
   who would be called really hot 

yet moxie by proxy this poet of doth got 
and might elicit salient characteristics 
   similar to a humanoid heterosexual bot 
and, oh by the way, i lived in lower merion 
   for some years that = quite alot.

This from - a generic johnny 
   come lately jim crow chee 
can tackle the junkyard dawg, 
   while trump petting, swaggering, 
   rollicking with rod ham 
   pomp *** city but,

who **** house trained 
   and can use snout to play putt putt 
plus extricate moss elf from tread full rut.

this sub woofer snapper papa pooch, 
though scrawny and essentially 
   a generic mixed breed
   bowled with dennis the menace 
   plus jeff and mutt 

an older dog gone college alumni 
   of hard knocks
   relied on powder milk bone dog biscuits 
   to hone courage, and overcome shyness 
   (predominant among norwegian 
   bachelor farmers canine pets)

this diet of powdered raw bit, 
   weighed heavy in my gut 
thus, i conclude air rating whims 
   hoop ping this passes windy muster 
   and makes the cut
if nyat - dag nabbit rab but.
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