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III Jul 2018
The top
     Of a Ferris wheel
In the fleeting breeze
     Of the setting summer sun.
Beeb Jan 2018
Kate said that she liked bricks.
I was taught that bricks are bad.
And they are bad.
Kate likes to tell me about bricks.
I don't like to listen,
But I must listen or else Kate will lay bricks down.
Kate scares me.
I don't want to talk to her,
But I must.
I don't want to become like Kate,
And I don't want others to become like Kate.
Bricks are bad.
Stay away from Bricks and Brick Layers.
MARK RIORDAN May 2017
DON'T WEAR YOUR HEART ON YOUR SLEEVE
THE QUEEN ADVISES THE YOUNG ROYALS
THERE ARE DEFINITELY TWO GENERATIONS
THAT FACE ALL THERE TOILS


ONE IS STRONG AND STOUT
AND HAS A GENERATION OF STRENGTH
THE OTHER GENERATION ARE YOUNG
AND EXPLAIN THEM IN LENGTH


BUT ONE THING IS FOR SURE THE
ROYAL FAMILY ARE TRULY LOVED
WEATHER IT'S THE QUEEN OR THE YOUNG ROYALS
THEY ARE BLESSED FROM ABOVE
THE QUEEN HAS ADVISED THE YOUNG ROYALS NOT TO WEAR THEIR HEARTS ON THERE SLEEVES. BUT THEY ARE TELLING IT LIKE IT IS MAYBE THAT IS REFRESHING INDEED.
MARK RIORDAN May 2017
PRINCE WILLIAM AND KATE
ARE SUING A MAGAZINE
THEIR PRIVATE LIVES ARE PRIVATE
AND NEVER TO BE SEEN


HERE IN AUSTRALIA JUST RELAXING
IN THE SUN AND TO REST
THE PAPARAZZI ARE TOO POUNCE
AND SHOW OF KATE'S BREAST


THIS INTRUSION INTO THERE LIFE
IS VERY QUESTIONABLE INDEED
THEY DEFINITELY HAVE THE RIGHT
TO SUE FOR MEDIA GREED
THE MEDIA HAVE TO HAVE ETHICS  WILLIAM AND KATE ARE SUING AN AUSSIE  MAGAZINE FOR PUBLISHING NAKED SHOTS OF KATE. EVEN A CHILD KNOWS THAT  THIS IS OF LIMITS HAVE SOME ETHICS PLEASE.
Kate R Urse Feb 2017
You are the sun
You shine brilliantly
And steal the gaze of everyone on this Earth

You give warmth, you allow beauty to be beholded
And are a beauty to behold in yourself

You, the sun, are the center of our universe,
Gravitating everything towards you

But you burn my eyes.
Your light and goodness glares into them
Blinding me at times

I attempt to wear shades, I attempt
I attempt to look away

But as soon as I do you’re reflected in a window
Your light, the sun’s light, pierces my gaze, Burning my eyes.

And yes, you are the center of our universe, my universe
But why is that a good thing?

You, the sun, get to shine and share your brilliance,
You get to make people happy

All people, except for me
I stand, with your light shining in my eyes, burning them
Blinding them, making it impossible to see anything else
Making me love the darkness of the nights.
The nights where I steal your glory temporarily as a star.
No one may notice, and no one may stay to watch,
But those nights are glorious, allowing me to glow bright, something you, the sun, taught me to do

But you soon rise from the other side of the Earth
Covering my light once again.

Did you know that stars never really disappear, you just can’t see them because of the sun?
I did.
Andrew T Jan 2017
While the light faded from the windowpane,
I tried to encourage and push you
like a door swinging slowly on its hinges;
But nothing ever made you happy,
nothing ever satisfied you--
as the cool air grew thick and muggy with warmth,
you stomped on top of the floorboards,
which concealed my wounds, my scars, the bruises
I would never let anyone examine.

We struggled to get on the same page,
couldn't even reach the same sentence.
So when you screamed at me, aggressively and loudly,
I gave you the silent treatment,
your threats unable to rattle me.

Why can't I stop thinking about the way you'd
dry the wet off your back with a bath towel?
Don't you miss how I would blow your belly button,
or how you would moan softly as I scratched your back
with my guitar pick?

The cinema plays homevideos of the two of us
laughing at the drunk girl who wrecked her bumper
on the parking space concrete, and the two of us
holding each other's hands at the John Mayer concert.

A nook, a camera, a pair of sunglasses,
a Michael Kors purse, an emerald bracelet;
gifts to show you I cared, to show you I wanted
more than just one night cuddling in
your younger sister's apartment.

F. Scott Fitzgerald died in his forties,
holding a wine bottle in his hand like a newborn,
as his wife Zelda built a fire pit
and burned his stories, page after page, until
the characters twisted and rolled into ash and charcoal.

Are we the writers?
Or are we the characters?

Tell me you don't love me anymore,
so I could finally close the door shut.
Don't leave me voicemails, or send me text messages
with emojis and memes.

I remember we would cruise around Maryland
and Virginia, in my dad's silver sedan,
blasting music and smoking *****.

But now we're swimming
in the deep end of the swimming pool.
You're wearing a life vest and I'm trying to keep afloat,
as the strong water hits my chest,
and the cold chills my bones.

You are Kate Winslet,
and I'm Leonardo DiCaprio
giving you the inflatable killer whale,
so that you could stay above water,
as I slip under the current of our decaying memory,
the years we've lost,
and the time which we'll never regain.

The door is closing on me
and everything darkens from the lights
to your face.

And I know now, that a piece of my heart
sits at the bottom of your mason jar,
like a corroded anchor
dug deep in the floor of the ocean.

Keep it,
and whether you come inside the house,
or walk out to the driveway,
close the door
like eyes
shutting for the last time.
Nick Moser Feb 2016
Sometimes, when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the side-view mirror.

And I say:
“Man, who’s that stud in the side-view?”

And other times when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the visor mirror.

And I say:
“Man, who’s that stud in the visor?”

But most times when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the rear-view.

And I say:
“Man, that stud is never going to get anywhere if he keeps living in the past.”
Are notes really optional?
Piotr Balkus Oct 2015
James Bond is cool
but I'm not sure
the armed guy should be the one
to rule,
to save a belle
from hell.

A man with a gun - it could be anyone,
not only Bond.
But guns are wrong,
and we all know, it won't
make world a better place, oh no.
Violence is not the way.

I'd like to see Prince William as James Bond,
with bunch of flowers in his hands,
instead of gun.
That would be fun.

And Duchess Kate
as real Bond's girl,
always a smile away from her man.

That would be great.
Martin Narrod Oct 2015
Under the legs of giraffes falling in love by being licked to buy a deer deer licking giraffes Gareth Pugh transforming signs pigs that can't **** but **** bricks in the tea cups personal Hispanic designers transforming into anorexic girls tornadoes in Pennees that buildings can't stop where pro-skateboarders take millions of dollars of drugs that are crystals and mugs and improve haircuts to make mugshots better who go to bathroom the stress says this transvestites in British airways first class airplane ride bathrooms **** **** ******* ******* **** in and list ***** used who's spending money and and aunt uncle and uncle gay and lesbian **** show putting faces in the toilets and wedding the water stopping at rest stops work carnival junkies pay tolls and gas station attendants charge super fees going to grocery stores to buy cream soda likes Sprite flavored train send peanut butter cup chocolate **** sores and send aunts uncles and uncles undulates and pigs passing by signs changing words miss read words changing over and over again passing through Stardome popularity celebrity. Rachel Lynch by skinny victory over and over groups of people lost in bathrooms starting outs in the story telling each other being wet by Harry Potter. In the beginning their hair was wet eyeballs were sore they took drugs text transform them into night sweats and their minds ate breakfast as they arrived at the circus storytelling they wore black costumes and shrunk like Alice in Wonderland having to **** and **** and eat but they were silent until the drugs came back into their systems and then they remembered each other. My father's brother Jim's son was lost abandoned me inside a marketplace in Colorado roadrunner was treated having a disease rather than being a drunk and given medication while lost in the end of the world's apocalypse. Symphony after symphony lost and returned and lost an overturned enveloped in the mall or people in different sections provided different offerings like curiosity giving oral *** or rubbing ankles or kissing on heads or **** ******* each other to death. Moving through security checkpoints falsifying drugs by providing sticky chewing gum pulling it from their mouths while Hispanics were extradited to other South and Central American countries. Oh my God insanity bliss favoritism chocolate peanut butter cup Carnival riding red neck necking car crash crashing insanity. Goblins introduces lighting fuses of other uses oxymoronic hyperbole of onomatopoeia and sounds raking the ears, breaking Pap smears in the vaginas of men with penises of early surgeries. Michael Gottlieb as a hog, tigers and dynosaurs, Jim Morrison poisoned, Transformers rising to the Chicago skyline TIE interceptors of cellular structures musing youths. Hallucinations of blasphemous miniature creatures giving faith to words transforming to the name of this movement this movie: The Shīt Shūw.
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