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Filomena May 2021
"So how much will the rental be?", he hollers.
"A thrifty fee of fifty three green dollars."
Simple couplet written around a spoonerism.
Wrote this one a while ago.
Haven't published in ages so might as well.
ArianLlwyn May 2021
Once I dreamt of a world so grand,
I reached to hold it in my hand,
But it fell away like pale sand.
Pia V May 2021
If love was flight then I’d stay perched
Perhaps for fear of falling but
To see it all, I’d watch atop
Up twenty stories, far enough

Observed, and learned, but never felt
That freedom comes with many doubts
And I for one will not go out  
Much further than my steady perch
ArianLlwyn Mar 2021
They say the sun shines bright
Beyond the hills of night.

Perhaps one day I might
See this beautiful light.

For now my days are dark
My dreams are nightmares wrought.
ArianLlwyn Mar 2021
The world's small eyes bare down like heavy gold,
On whomsoever seeks their glazed dim gaze.
My second attempt at a couplet in iambic pentameter.
Filomena Mar 2021
When on a modern battlefield,
You shouldn't wield a wooden shield.
Sometimes I find that less is more, when I try to write a metaphor.
(Same idea as last poem but less elaborate.)
(Subtitle: Spoonerism 1)
Filomena Mar 2021
On this one bit I will not yield:
When on a modern battlefield
Where not one thought can be concealed
As hidden things can be revealed

You Shouldn't Wield a Wooden Shield
Simple idea worked out over a few days.
Jane Doe Nov 2020
I itch my neck, my chest. The skin is raw -
a caustic burn, not flame but chemical.
I feel his gaze press on my breast, his jaw
is tight, he finds this guilt desirable.

I want to scratch a pattern on his back
in runes. A pictogram, occult, obscene.
An animal ensnared, its leg entrapped,
through blood-slicked fur and bone, will gnaw it clean.

He says: “You are no songbird in a cage.
And I’m a man, respectable, with wife
at home. And yet, your racing pulse - you rage
a storm in me, a spirit rose to life”.

This spirit, rose to life when first we met,
won’t die without a sacrifice of sweat.
I attempted to do the sonnet form justice and stick with iambic pentameter as much as possible here.
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