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On a scale of 1 to Lord of All,
how important is your
your opinion of what others create?

I see you, through these sigils,
pretending every breath you took
is a doctorate.

Did you know you dont have to choose between being the brush or the brush ******?
You could build boats,
hunt ghosts with broken radios,
climb mountains to commune with the dead,
stare at the stars and make
your own constellations,
or play ukulele alone with a head full of acid.

All I am saying is
there are far better plotlines
than playing sovereign king of the
swamp that swallows you
and believing it be noble.
I chose to be a *****
To serve my own King
Over being a Queen
Of the other Kings.
Latifah 5d
and all along
I thought the monsters lived in my head
I never saw
you were their king.
Shofi Ahmed Oct 31
It’s on everyone's eyeline
Where the flying clouds
look down time and again
on this perfectly placed mural.

King Solomon keeps an ear on the ground
The Queen of Sheba tiptoes on this way.
Only to find seas of silent blooms already
musing dipping in sun-kissed dews
on gently tilted roses that won’t drip down
not from this a picture perfect navel-high!

Velvety rose up from the ground
forever green earth is hanging low
in the dew on the rose that won’t fall.
Blossoming, eying on an acute high
evermore hopeful to scale high aspiring
to the faraway awaiting houris’ pool.
They won’t move either to the north
nor south nor they go up or down until
Queen Fathima the Queen of the Heaven
Shows up there on the ‘as above so below’ *****.

There too the newly resurrected earth be primed
to loop into the Golden section at the same height.
Laying the stepping stone on before her
mosaiced to measure on the phi adhered navel-high!
Houri: The Beautiful native woman of paradise.
The Math Behind the Beauty argues that "Leonardo da Vinci's drawings of the human body emphasised its proportion. The ratio of the following distances is the Golden Ratio: (foot to navel) : (navel to head)".
FallenKing Oct 29
I robbed myself of my motivation
I was the individual with the ski mask
I pressed the glock .9 against the tellers temple
While she prayed to ***, I counted the devil for my greed turned into an evil deception of my own moral ambiguity
What I thought was a righteous path was truly an everlasting darkness littered with my decayed convictions
subliminal messages pierced my mental processes controlling me like a lamb to the slaughter
As my hand gripped the trigger I thought to myself
Who am I doing this for?
Who do I live for?
As I cut the cash silently like the a surgeons incision, my mind was running circles like clockwork
Time was my mistress, ironically stringing me along, deceiving me to believe that I was the puppet master
With no strings attached I remained untethered, oblivious to my own reality
All along I thought I was the king
However, just as the sheep follows the Shepard I became a cog without cognition
Lumi Oct 28
A letter came in the mail,
"On Tuesday the ship will sail,
For the king is dead,
Murdered in his very own bed."

So I put on my Sunday best,
In the middle of the week when I have no rest,
To the seaside to watch the boat leave it's harbor,
Inside lays our king in his finest armor.

So the arrows are fired with a furious flame,
As the tip strikes the wood, calling ****'s name,
And the flaming king sails to the ends of the sea,
Leaving us commoners here to weep.

The widowed queen weeps into her cup of wine,
The prince is quiet for once in his life,
The baby princess sleeps through the night,
While everyone else is drunk on pain and lies.

The murderer has his eyes on a little boy,
Who was once a man before he fell for a ploy,
He is the heir to the man now dead,
He jumped off a cliff to end his own dread.

Now the widow is the newest target,
But she lost her unborn child to life's bargain,
She poisoned her own wine,
And left her living princess to die.

But this princess lived on,
Supported her people with her voice and song,
Saying, "Too myself I will do no wrong,
We're all there other has in our mournful throng."

The only queen ever to live,
Until her old age.
Her life she loved and herself she thought fit,
To turn the newest page.
Aa Harvey Oct 23
A sleeping dragon


Beneath the ground there lives a beast.
For aeon’s it has lain asleep,
Upon the bones of those it defeats.
The hopeless slain in graves so deep beneath.


The firelight in only darkness.
The ghost of old, it’s only witness.
A beast so foul, so pitiless,
Has killed a thousand men in a thousand feet deep pit.


It waits in slumber, further under,
The kingdom beneath which it constantly plunders.
A fire in the sky at midnight,
Alerts the keepers of the last kings keep.
The beast has been awoken after a hundred years’ sleep
And although it cannot be seen, it screams through the air,
Breathing fear, which destroys the hope of every man,
Who still has a care.


Now none will fight or lend a hand
And all but one are stood in silence.
The king listens to the chosen, his guards his only violence,
Against a demon which strikes such fear;
It has done so for many years.


But now at last there stands the hero.
Never more will he hold a purse of zero,
For riches have been promised by the King,
To any man who may slay the thing which sleeps beneath.


The curse upon the peaceful land,
For many a moon, but now this man,
Shall lead his band of many men to slay the beast,
Or until they are deceased.
So until the beasts’ heart beats no more,
The day has come…
To victory!
Or…


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
japheth Oct 22
the king
gave you
this puzzle
called life

and you,  jester,
rose to the occasion.

instead of figuring everything out,
you played around
— which meant
all rules you bent,
all instructions swayed,
all directions detoured,
everything but the puzzle was solved.

but irregardless,
the king was delighted
in your efforts
to make the court laugh
and in the end,
he gave you the key

and you threw it away
with glee.
life isn’t always about figuring everything out. most of the time it’s about the things that  revolve around it that matter and how you’re gonna have fun with it.
Shofi Ahmed Oct 11
The Hebrew King David sings it once
everyone tunes in as if he stopped the time
it's a song sang in every mother tongue!

It's a sea of tunes flows on the shore of the body
outpours and dances fashioning in both science and art
waxes through every vein and reaches out to the heart.

Folks love to take a dip in this same mellifluent cloud
but it's as varied as all the different mother tongues,
the one rhymes with all floats across the world.
Over all the different rivers that may zigzag
It knows the way because from the ocean they all come.
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