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michael Jun 2020
We spend our days watching, by the hour,
The Kardashians in their ivory tower

Fifty-one million one can make,
And yet from the poor we continue to take.

With another tape, they could make more
Here men are, paying, preaching; “she’s a *****!”

Punter, performer; why is only one disallowed?
Sexes sin equally; Mz Davidson would be so proud

But a role model she is! Some also bark.
What about Wu Zetian, Zenobia, Joan of Arc?

They are lost, not as important as ingot
Instead we’ll recall Weinstein, bigot.

Stories of their tweets dominate the BBC
But where is the plight of the LEDC?
kiran goswami Jun 2020
When they look at my body,
they giggle between their teeth that are crooked but they call them curved. They perceive how curveless I look
and tell me to perform yoga
so that my curves can be defined,
so that I can shape my convexes and concaves.
I smile as bright as I can because probably those are my only visible curves.
I tell them how every time I sit to write
my pen curves on the pages
that are thumbed on the corners
so they seem curved too.
I begin by writing the first letter of the English language
and make slopes and valleys of this alphabet.
I form serpentines and swirling cyclones of my words,
I curve my 'S' to form into an infinity
so that I can hold on to him for as long.
I stretch my 'K' until the end of the earth
and make it look like a single leg shoulder stand.
And as I take all my alphabets,
I turn them from staff position to the plough position.
I make my words turn into Paschimotasna,
and my noun tries to perform Kundali.
My pronouns sit in vajrasana.
My similies stress themselves and flex,
while my metaphors curl into themselves and hide as Marichyasana.
When I am done,
my poems form themselves into Pindasana.
However,
I remain coverless,
as straight and sharp as the pen I use.
I remain 'Arjuna's' bow
so he directs me into my own self,
my own heritage
and I end up killing my Bhishma,
my self-respect.
Hence while my words perform yogasana,
I stand still in tadasana.
Paul McMahon Jun 2020
I drive fast that’s what I do, faster and faster
I think brakes are a disaster
Driving like a lunatic all of the time
A million miles an hour shouldn’t be a crime
As I flash past you’ll see just a blur
My need for speed has no cure

Any type of road it doesn’t matter
Everything I hit is going to splatter
Motorways or B-roads or alleys that bend
Lanes or cul-de-sacs don’t care if it’s a dead end
I am the road king get out of my way
You're a goner if into my path you do stray

I rarely have a dent, a dint or a crash
Though in my wake I oft hear a smash
But one day an obstacle didn’t get out of the way
A big rock face, where it was, decided to stay
I thought of the carnage I have left in my wake
As my car, a mangled mess, the rocks did make

Never bothered with seatbelts, what a mistake
As my head hit the rocks it was mushed like a cake
Going through the windshield my jaw snagged the dashboard
That’s where I left it, as the rest of me went forward,
With no way of talking I couldn’t even curse
Whatever the car, I would come off worse
Out popped my eyes and rolled down the road
Oops went my bowels as they did explode
All of my organs rolling around in a drum
My liver and kidneys shot out my ***
PHUNK went my lungs as they gave up the ghost
My man bits were crushed, I’d miss those the most

Bits of me hanging from rocks and from trees
Dangling from a branch were both of my knees
One of my feet was still in the car
The other one had landed somewhere quite far
All of my guts were splashed in the road
I looked like a large and very squashed toad

First came some birds to peck at my eyes
Then a raccoon started nibbling away at my thighs
Word soon spread of this mighty feast
Bits of my body would feed every beast
Soon all that was left was gnawed bones and hair
I wish I had known that great rock was there.
Paul McMahon Jun 2020
The land where I sleep, is the land where I weep
The sounds in my dreams are blood-chilling screams
When I take a snooze, all the goblins and ghouls
Seek out and find my tired haunted mind.

They drive me insane, assaulting my brain
Night after night I'm scared outta my *****
I can never unwind they have twisted with my mind
I try to stay awake for sanity’s sake.

For those wild-eyed horrors are the most evil explorers
Sent from the devil and told to dishevel
Any semblance of normality with the upmost brutality
And leave me in a heap, so afraid of sleep.

I know who to blame, I can tell you his name
And creature quite charming making deals so harming
I sold my soul to Beelzebub, a drunken bet in a pub
I didn’t ask for a lot, just a shiny new yacht.

Well I got my bright vessel but for my soul I must wrestle
When I catch forty winks, The Dark Lord he thinks:
Let’s go play in his head, make him wish he was dead,
And the gamble regret, praying instead for death

Like a poor mouse that, is caught by the cat
I know that I'm trapped but my mind has not snapped
I hear hell is a scorcher so after all of the torture
It’ll be straight down below for eternity I’ll go.

Nightmares I can dismiss, as well as eternity in the abyss
Because He’s done worse already; my boat is moored in a jetty
If you should happen to see it, you will exclaim ‘*******
Oh Satan you’re an awful fellow, that yacht is a most horrible yellow’.
kolsmusing Jun 2020
I didn't believe
that someone
could take my
heart in a beat
until I saw
a radiant smile
that left me in awe
but there's something
much more charming
than his smile
it's his laugh
I saw how his eyes glimmer
the moment he laughed
that's when I realized
I have never fallen in love
with somebody's laugh
Amanda Jun 2020
Bleeding from my lips,
breathing in tortuous love
when I'm all alone.
Louise Jun 2020
I am the best at making you laugh.
You can't admit it.
The way you smile.
It's a different smile.
The way you laugh.
It's a different laugh.
But now you can't even look at me.

And all I can think about is:
If she makes you laugh like I once did?
lua Jun 2020
he tilted his head up towards the sky
to breathe out a laugh
as my heart stung
and twinged
in my chest
and my ears rung
with the chocolate
velvety tone of his voice
but as sweet as it sound
a bitter aftertaste lingers
for a
rather
long time.
Zack Ripley Jun 2020
today's the day I'll say good morning
Instead of goodbye.
Today's the day I'll laugh
Instead of cry.
But of all the things
I hope today will be,
I hope today's the day I'll be okay
I felt so truly disemboweled when
I was told that my little sister
Won't even be given the chance
At life or to explore the world
Never to laugh and smile or
Would never say my name half correctly
Can't help but feel like I was gutted
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