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Shannon 5d
I came across an odd little town,
with odd names for odd people,
and I wanted to show you, so I wrote them down.

Destiny doesn't believe in fate,
Hazel hates green and brown,
Hope's always in a negative state.

Ocean's afraid of the water,
Ivy has no league,
Clay hates every potter.

Pepper hates every spice,
Magenta hates pink,
Candy isn't sweet or nice.

Chase is very slow,
Journey hates exploring,
Cash's money is low.

Charity is very selfish,
Marshall never follows the law,
Sincere's stories always embellish.

Faith doesn't trust no one,
Melody cant carry a tune,
Victor has never won.

Ginger never snaps,
Patience can hardly sit still,
Scout always falls into traps.

Honesty always lies,
Spring never jumps,
Hunter can't even hurt flies.

Justice isn't fair,
Teddy is afraid of bears,
Sky hates flying in the air.

Joy is always sad,
Robin could never steal,
Jubilee is always mad.

Lily hates all the flowers,
Violet hates purple,
Aqua never showers.

Mary doesn't want a wedding,
Winter hates the snow,
Misty hates a foggy setting.

Peace always starts the fights,
Sandy hates the beach
Sunny only comes out during nights.

Promise never keeps her word,
Star hates the night.
Raven hates every bird.

Reign hates royalty,
Scarlet hates red.
Trinity hates the number three.

So what is in a name,
if you can't act like it means,
are you really to blame.
If your name is up there, don't be offended, i just thought, how funny would it be if you were named something that is your exact opposite.
wc before edit 193
wc after edit 235
the nurse gave me lidocaine
before she stitched me up.

she told me that it would
help to numb the pain.

I laughed out loud
at the irony.

honey, don't you see?

I'm already numb.

that's why I'm here
needing these stitches
in the first place.
KG Oct 23
Her curiousity calls, my interest stolen
A spirit about her face, when she, seeing
This wonderlust, inescapable, mine,
Yet temporary, as is this.

She emanates a significance,
I can't
resist escaping my chrysalis.

Tasteless, the breath of polluted life I savor
But for a moment. This purest waste it's haste to be expelled back to the sheltered waters which I dwell. Safe now, it sifts back to rest complete amongst the volume I've employed, until I deem its time to feed and shelter with my form.

I float above the seaswept alleys, scrutinizing the bones below, my home, the city of apathy and ruin.
The displacement of my passage rends the ocean in its vastness cleanly. Silent echoes vexed and roiling against the vacant ruins now follow me like nascent hounds. Warily I scale the depths to assess the source of my intruige, and see the obscure sky that holds the gleaming fires of sunset atop it's surface.

"How long have I been here?"
I wonder, and begin to see my real self, sitting on the floor of a home. I feel the ocean and focus my will to observe what caught my interest.

Then sight beholden a paradox,
An encounter fate withheld to ensure
The prospect flounder in a grave I dug years before. The living dead, the myths of old, gods, demons, angels, magic. I found it odd, how deeply painful and tragic my choice to discard my hope for a mask.
No longer.

I am now captivated, yet not by her body,
Enthralled, yet not by her sophistication.
These marked her ardent spirit of royal eloquence, but the intense affirmation held within the emerald sockets that could stop  sense of self when our eye's crossed paths into the traps willingly sprung.

Ah, the fool I'd be to attempt conversing with just a whim, without consent, without intruige!

Then, a wink.

This invitation sent so soon, to someone gazing from another room
She waded to me, half a grin, wry & ****
Effectively stopping all pretense of conscious thought, Instinctually I prevented the dropping of my jaw, and stopped my brain from shutting off completely, or tried to anyways.
She was getting closer, steady pace,
[What should I do now? I'm drowning in my own self doubts. I'm unworthy, a clown in comparison! Maybe she thinks I'm someone else, I'll not allow myself to expect the unexpected route, at most I'm just a simple rebound. ]
This plague of thoughts continued down thinking how I could run away, but I hesitated, and it's too late.
A part of me tries to defer her play. Escape, and drift back beneath the salty waters of marshland behind my eyes, while hers stare deeply into them. My attempts to decline her company are ignored, and I'm stopped. She holds me quietly, the beauty of her eyes a spotlight guiding the search of my face for signs of compliance or defiance.
I'm lost now.
Lost in the eyes of a friend I needed years ago, eyes that match the wonder mine held. They peer through those that cross our path, without fear, or judgment, or expectation. Her golden orbs speak kindly, beautiful they are, and fierce. Her stare holds mine, and though nothing is said, we read the others expressions like two lost strangers, deaf and mute.
Unabashedly she studys the facets of my expression, admitting freely these feelings of intense attraction.
She gently tests the waters that bars my cage, she rests expertly sitting on the floor next to me. She glances up, so close to me now her expression a breathy question.
How long until I could accept her intentions? I feel the shackles release, she coaxed the key from my my captors, thieving crafter of my release. Embracing her comfort and pleasant breeze. I take hold of her arm, then bit her politely, delight shows as she pulled me further from my city of despairity.

Seas now far below, The water from my lungs exchanged, now I sit in this party on the floor with my love without a name. I clutch her hand and grasp her eyes, breathe in deeply the easy air she helped me find. We stand and head outside.

Now the night is brightly lit by the many eye's of Nyx. She watches us watching her content to guide us from afar

We stay quiet, talking with our eyes until arriving at the station, the parking lots border shops finding space to lay and gaze at the mosaic in the sky

Then begins speech unending.

Attention, on her it looks mesmerizing, she began training in the ways of climbing deftly,  then set her sights on the hermit keepers of inner self, squirreled away in the deepest craggy recesses of  their self-isolating depression.
Her gear, well worn yet sturdy, she traversed the labrynths of the soul effortlessly. Astonishing and

The sun, now soon to wake reminds me time is rife to take my soul to depths beneath the motionless sea of my making, while the sunlight in her eyes whispers promises of eternity.
To dream and dread together, weaving webs to shelter those truly free, hungry and helpless, yet gifted with sight to see past the momentary issues, issued to men who believe the promises of those who won't miss you.
People like me, perhaps.
I think.
I sink.
In secret, I flash my contempt for my leviathan below. Resting, waiting. It demands  me to remain and skulk the streets of spines that once belonged to me. I'm kept to entertain the formless ****** that slink like klepto's thoughout my fallen city of memories. It keeps them busy, and when they are I search the ripped seams of pockets in dreams. In them was hidden my stolen key, which without I've forgotten peace.

Beneath the waves I drink the salty brine, my lungs adjust to the viscous salt base liquid,
Above cold white-capped crests oscillate,
I'm tethered here. I admit these weights are present, and **** me if I won't accept it.

My simple mind. Behind these watching eyes dwells my sea, and before the serpent catches me again, I see the soft ember color of her eyes in the distance.
Life's sweet irony:
in making peace with questions
things fall into place.
Melodrama whispers in your ear like a soft hiss
His voice incredibly quiet
He grabs a hold of your neck
Digging his filthy fingernails in your skin

Don’t scream
     Don’t speak

Staring into his painfully blue eyes longing for an ounce of humanity
Finding none, only sleepless nights and suffering
Melodrama stealthily retrieves a silver antique dagger
HOLDING onto it tightly, too tightly
His hands begin to ooze red
Worst of all,
     he laughed
He laughed, At the pain he was inflicting on himself
Infatuated with the ambivalent stinging
This time he holds the dagger to your neck
The chilling metal carving your flesh
His matted, jet black hair tickles your neck
Please no
     You beg.
I’m terribly sorry. But I cannot stop, he whispers

With a slight grin filled with selfishness
He drags the dagger along her porcelain skin, lifting the life out of her
Her limp body falls to the floor.
Melodrama let’s out a wail.
     What have I done? How could I be this selfish?
Oh no, oh no!

His slim body collapses next to her, cradling her body in his arms
No. He cries. Tracing his hands over her wounds
Fixating his attention on the turning doorknob
His heart drops, panic overcoming him
The husband, walks nonchalantly into the horrific room
Asking one not-so-simple question.
     What are we going to do with the body?
Yet another dark poem. This is a personified emotion piece. My emotion was melodrama. Completed on 10/2/20.
Millie Oct 7
The blue in her eyes
Complimented the blood on her lips
Her galaxy of freckles
Were magnified by tears
The further she rose in the world
The lower she sank on her floor
A perfect mess
But she was mine
Diána Bósa Sep 17
As a committed reflectionist, you say:
'I do like to show things the way they are!'
– but you seem to forget that
by silencing other mirrors' song,
from time to time,
which & whose reality you are about to represent.
everyone has a voice here
every note will flow
some of us are nightingales
some of us are crows
some of us are magpies
collecting shiny things
some of us canaries
which in the coalmine sing
some of us are larks
singing in the copse
some of us are ravens
gathered 'round a corpse
some are Laughing *******
who scream to beat the band
some of us are ostrich
with our heads in sand
some of us can "Twitter"
how we love our "tweets"!
some of us are silly coots
with funny orange feet!
some of us are toucan
with beaks that are outgrown
some of us are parrots
with a beak that's not our own
some of us are robins
hopping on the lawn
some of us are lovely
angelic, graceful swans
some of us are mockingbirds
yes, you could fit that bill
some are birds with feathers
which make a lovely quill
some of us are peacocks
great beauties, but a bore
some of us are hawks
which o'r deep canyons soar

some of us are eagles
symbols of our call
I welcome you to
where we are poets


(C) 2/4/2016
All except for the parrots.
They need to be plucked!

What kind of bird are YOU?

Catherine Jarvis
sadnspicy0 Aug 29
Nobody cried. Nobody cared.
A couple of eyes were in despair.

And on the tombstone, it was inscribed:
"Committed social suicide".
Don Bouchard Aug 24
I sit eyes closed at the top of the wood
Desiring action, but in a dream,
Hooked head and feet immobile:
Near sleep of age, incapable to eat.

Necessity finds the highest trees....
Branches shake in sun-beaten ire;
No advantage find I in the moving air
While earth's face beckons me to fall.

Clenching now, claws deep in bark,
Creation's masterpieces find decay
Of foot and feather, come from dust,
This Creature must return to clay.

Vision strong still seeks resolve
As Earth below me still revolves,
Inward focus, resolute, admits
Tearing heads is now a chore.

Death's wind, inevitable, a chilling fact:
Who kills to live through victims' lives,
Though early arguments remain intact,
At twilight's call, they still must die.

From the West the same Sun sees me;
Only I have changed, and have grown thin,
And though my heart's set upon its path,
I've lost the strength to fly again.
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