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Jon Thenes Nov 2019
a convulsive shaking of the head

a tremble ;
it's no trouble
and i've slipped this disarray

shrugged off the character ;
an avatar i've maintained
for a dedicated period

a return to The Cunning

quake the sleeper agent
and unburden the actor

a return to Cunning

the weight is clipped
and the pouch rises to the surface
geesing the code

the dog program :
click the assignment
into a bleedable port

quake the sleeper
and unburden the act

charge up joy for the task ahead
start cleaning the toys of the trade  

re load the literature
retrain your physical form ;
blessed with muscular memory
and a breathing plan

the domestic ailments of the house
are striped and packed into the guest bedroom
the body hair is shaved to minimum
the workplace is given a sick call
then all the tech is despoiled
and the signal singed out

no more Mr. civilian
snuffed

the soldier
with unmarred purpose
is gratefully reattached to physical function
and mental manner

the soldier makes channels of the streets
tags favoured places
****** in relished corners
puts out an advertisement
a secretion
seeking to rejoin his staff
of instigation
Dylan McFadden Jan 2019
We’ve been slowly sinking
Into our own thrones –
Permitting an unwitting
“Thinking” alone.

At evil, we’re winking
Without any Eyes –
Unshrinking, no blinking,  
We see not the guise.

.
Yuki Jan 2019
To the lucky ones
in whose hands
a ladybug has landed
today
I wish to not
search for a sign
or better a guise
to be great.
Poetic T Dec 2018
Only a weak man would intrude
                    on virtues of another.
For a strong man knows that within him
                 is the virtues of a woman's birth.  

And with out them, he would be nothing.
            Those that intrude on the innocence,  
         have a weakness not of man
but of value and are neither of morality or humanity.

But the sinking ventures of humanities folly.
                For all of creations bindings are
                                but a creation of before.

And even those that are  pure some are always
                              damaged to the point of sorrow.
Never guise all under one brush,  
   because each is a different stroke.

And some are just not meant to be allowed
                                                   to paint a canvass.
          let alone a memory upon another's ever
                                                changing innocence.
The sky's disguised
as a ******* a butterfly
writing rainbows
in everyone's eyes
Kaitlin Evers Feb 2018
I carry this mask to hide behind
And cache away my flaws
But know me, know me
Is my cry

I make myself this camouflage
Though please do not be fooled
See past my guise
See me, see me
Is my cry

Peirce through my shield into my heart
There you'll see I'm torn apart
I play like asphalt
But there's music in my heart
sancus Dec 2016
it was strange how your ethereal face,
your innocent smile,
and the sparkle in your eyes
could hide a devil inside.

you've tucked me into a blanket of thorns,
thinking they're sheets of clouds.
you've shown me the stairway to heaven but drove me to the edge,
into an abyss of loneliness and despair.

you're a wolf in sheep's clothing,
a demon under the guise of an angel.

it was strange how your ethereal face,
your innocent smile,
and the sparkle in your eyes
could hide a devil who would be the end of me.
She was in all  appearances
A brash  confident lion
Unyielding to anyone
Utterly independent

That   is   till  he  came along
In the guise of a meek lamb
A sacrificial sheep to be dominated
Not once did she doubt this

Her mask fell to let him in
And she lay in his sweet embrace
Letting him  subtly  unravel her mind
And *make
a delicate mess of her heart

She is no longer the lion she used to be
Her mane has been violently  torn apart
For he had been a predatory wolf
In the guise of a *meek lamb
//People can be so deceptive//

— The End —