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BD Rohrer Jan 2018
Got
i got silver
i got gold
i got a deal
i got sold
i got a lifetime
i got the world
i got a lot
i got no soul
and it all comes down
what was and never found
hidden in a mask
conformed under mass
i got power
i got luck
i got drugs
i got struck
i got strength
i got brains
i got pills that keep me sane
Non descript hedge rows sculpted into ornamental animal 
via botanical artist wielding pruning shears and chain saw 
carved, limned and sculpted with wrist wrought voila uber
prestidigitatiously head turning botanical picturesque Sun
kist animals at an exhibition transformed miraculously via 
Te Deum divine fist bumping, whence realistic fauna burst 
alive with an explosion of colorful twist and shout of foliage,
 
where scalloped superfluous detritus manna for naturalist
deciduous detritus capacious carpet boar animation punk
chew waiting groundswell Liszt ghost would arise from the 
grave to produce magnum opus without a beat missed such 
shrubbery mimicking likeness sans glistening fleshy sin
yew, and gist about ready to become bone a fide (green be
hind ears) thriving vox populist, per species and genus 

wrought thrashing into birth as delicate craftsman promised
to imbue life, liberty and pursuit of happiness whittling away 
leavings, thus did exist the nascent then omnipresent visible 
entity emerging from cocoon an herbalist metamorphosed 
from the imagination of a skilled, practiced and mentalist 
conniver viz extracting the initially obscure blessed beast, 

where with august magic wielding tools of this specialty vis 
a vis bringing breathing manifest destiny ala Pinocchio (trans
formed from wood to flesh), whereby finest dexterous 
chiseling blistering hands baffle onlookers as coterie of 
topiary harvest breaths mind bogglingly astoundingly 
authentic rooted ready to frolic in grass menagerie, 

a gamesome group of linkedin live progeny, the Michel
Angelo of dirtiest canvass, an earthen tabula rasa of sorts 
where application threshing re: electric cool laid ahs hid 
test brings out chlorophyll doppelganger green hued key luster.
Nylee Nov 2017
I
am
going
to
get
lost
on
this
page
as
you
scroll
down.

Larry Dixon Nov 2017
I’ve realized I’ve set something in motion.
But I don’t want it to stop regardless of the commotion.

I face the fact that I need to quite smoking.
Because I’m sick and tired of choking.

I really need a light to help me through this.
Because alone I cannot navigate this mist.

A tender soul to make me right.
Even if I tend to fight.

This nasty odor I create.
And all I see is that other hate.

So someone please answer my biggest wish.
Help me with this habit I must abolish.
Nylee Apr 2017
Be like mirror ,
                 give what you get
Guden Oct 2017
A knock on my door
Tells me I'm not dead,
I've been hours laying on this couch
Watching the curtain going back and forth,
I thought I was dead,
Unconscious,
Waiting.
I get up as quickly as I can towards the door,
It takes me a minute
To travel the infinite space
That separates me from it,
From you.
One minute or one week,
I've been dead for so long
That time in itself is not.
I open the door and it's you,
Of course,
With your killer smile,
Your intelligent look.
And you come in without saying a word,
Without taking your eyes from mine.
You sit in that couch
Where I was dead
A minute ago,
An hour, a month.
I sit next to you,
Nervous,
Only you have that power
Over my nerves.
You talk to me,
You tell me your story,
I can't stop looking at those eyes,
I listen, wanting to kiss you,
And I do, but you don't respond to my kiss,
You act annoyed?
Amused?
Mysterious.
You keep talking
As if that kiss had never happened,
I look at you, I think I've died again,
I'm more nervous than before,
I want you gone,
But I'll follow you anywhere.
You talk about the men who love you,
A bunch of nervous fellas,
They worship you,
So do I.
You keep talking,
I can see in your eyes that you want me,
I don't trust those eyes,
I don't trust myself when you're around.
I come near and whisper two words in your ear,
Get out.
Vishvi Aurora Oct 2017
Inspiration stuck my head,
Leaving my brain dead,
The relation of formulae started ahead,
Making my brain weak and afraid,
Though one side I went,
Leaving the unclear end,
But inspiration never told me to bend,
Even during the sand storms or hail beds,
It was inspiration,
That forced told me to stick to one end,
Though that was not much like the fluffy soft beds,
Pushed me through rough mead,
Leaving just a tumbled head,
And told me to fulfil my destination and dreams wide and spread,
That wasn’t much in those tends,
Like a Hopeless fountain kingdom album that Hasley sends,
On you tube my dear friends,
It was all apart from the world writing pens,
Even not ordinary as paying the rents,
The journey that even I threatened.
But finally, it was inspiration who followed me at every footstep,
Making hope in my respiratory set,
Helped me realized that the life’s journey was still left,
To calm down and be still and set,
Not to create the hard-earned destination end again into a threat.
                                                         ­                    -By Vishvi Aurora
in our life we get inspired by some or the other things in our life which later becomes a role model for us and helps us push really hard even in our hardest times.
Bryan Oct 2017
The little smile you give to me,
When I give you mine:
It's kind of like conspiracy,
Shared in our two minds.
The little giggle that you let fly,
When I let mine fly, too:
It's like laughing gas
Has come to pass
Between us: me and you.
You know what's coming,
And so do I.
No reason to try and hide it.
The smile grows into a grin,
No trace of guile inside it.
Defensively, you try to cover
Everywhere you can,
But you're helpless and you know it,
You can't hide from Daddy's hands!

A squeal of laughter breaks the still:
Anticipation let go in a voice so shrill.
The giggle becomes a full-force gale.
Were both laughing now:
A full-force wail!

Let's play a game,
We'll start from the top,
Just like it's something new.
We'll call this game
"Son and Pop,"
Or maybe just,
"Gonna Get You!"
Gotta get out
Get away
Run away
"I'm running out..."
Running out of time
Out of patience
Get me out!
Out of here
Hear the blood
Blood rushing in ears
Ears full of volume
Volume in decibels
Decibels drown out thoughts
I'm drowning in thoughts
Thoughts that chain
Changes in motion
Emotional changes
Change of pace
Change of scenery
Change of heart
Gotta get out
Take me out
10.11.17
Inktober prompt: Run
Rules: Whatever comes out of the pen is the poem. No edits allowed.
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