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Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2021
We're racing to our headstones and I'm leading the pack
Zero rationality left here to extract
Decided to listen to own judgement first
I admit in the past it's been the worst
My tears help me float when I collapse
Circles round my heart til I find a hold to graspt
Mind and emotions seem to disagree
Act hard because I am softer than I'd like to be
Sometimes the toughest people are the most sensitive inside
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2021
There is much about you to remember
Am terrified I might forget
To me appears you already have
Realization that makes me upset

Nothing to stop image from fading
From brain a bit more each day
Picture your face so clearly now
Know time will steal it away

Writing all our memories
The best way to ensure
In some way I'll preserve you forever
The perfect specimens we were

You do not care
Freeze precious snapshots
Because to you they did not matter
If love was a delicate vase
You would purposefully topple it simply to see shatter

Sit down to rest tired feet
Exhausted from leading around in laps
Do not know you're giving me the runaround
You set fire to all the maps
You can repair something broken but you will always have to see the cracks where you glued the pieces back together as long as you live
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2020
"Suspense is like a woman. The more left to the imagination, the more the excitement."
A mixture
of sinister and sweet,
smoking gun at your feet.
Reclining dead
in a meadow,
or wishing you were
as you gaze out your window.

Bottling undecided dark,
catching keyed-up light,
in random, misleading angles.
The uniform hour
holds Grace, Grant,
and the mystery
it entangles.

Don't look directly
at the camera,
icy blonde afterimage.
Everything you need
is written on the page.
Number 13,
Mrs. Peabody?
Don't you know
all contemporary
escapist entertainment
begins by turning your back?
Lingering on what
suspicious minds track.

The migrating voyeurism
sits as the crow,
wired and unfriendly.
The method is an organism,
an implication, a crossbow,
thought, but unseen.
He will push the girl,
until you succumb
to dream sequences.
It's snowing humiliation
at Winter's Grace,
for out of the male gaze,
invading your space,
you become gifted
at doing nothing well,
in sheer

(for inner circles & triangles of fur
are all the rage in Europe).

Yes, he hates pregnant women,
because then they have children.
So leave him
to his work,
to analyze your handwriting,
and build that ramp
directly into your trailer.

His larger than life silhouette
will fill the silver screen
with tension,
trip wire,
and a ****** ambivalence,
that ends with
the violent sound
of someone
packing a suitcase.

He enters by virtue of this door,
and you leave through another,
and another,
and another,
until the final scene
alters your state of mind.

Your pretty little feet
dangling precariously
over the edge...
Lane O Aug 2020
When the light begins to fade,
I have you to guide me through the darkness;
your hand in mine,
never to be led astray

- Lane O.
K Coleman Aug 2020
I must relive our nights when I dream,
because it’s unreal laying with you.
I am left breathless by your smile’s gleam!

Intense dark black sky, the moon so blue;
your skin’s touch that lifts me to new heights.
In pure bliss we admire the star’s view.

But awake I wonder of those nights...
were you also gazing at the stars;
or really looking at the streetlights?
Bhill May 2020
who is following who
who is leading who
why is there such separation
beneath the layers of doubt and mistrust
under the government of ***
who is following who

Brian Hill - 2020 # 148
MSunspoken Mar 2020
Voicing fervent beliefs
As hard as stone
Carry your legacy on-
Or simply create your own
strut the halls
With perfect posture-
Never forgotten,
Is that confidence
Swing your gait-
A daring sashay,
And lead the weak-
make them tough as bone
Yet never forget
In which you came-
So speak your name
Scream it to be remembered
The name in which
leads people together
This isn't for my "challenge"...
BUT! Somehow, this isolation is feeding into a new writing block.
Being surrounded by people sheds a light on my writing, giving me near endless possibilities. Though-I no longer have that.
So, here I am, trying to recover (of course, it had to be an inspirational poem).
I have faith enough to live
Now my wealth is here
I can love and freely give
Now my wealth is here

Every need is now fulfilling
For my heart is pure and willing
And my mind is firm and stilling
Now my wealth is here

I must speak the faithful word
Now my wealth is here
I will let my voice be heard
Now my wealth is here

I receive what I am needing
All my thoughts to truth are leading
And my good to me is speeding
Now my wealth is here
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