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JKirin Jul 2021
Can you hear the buzz in the airβ€”
the electric charge? See a flare
lighten up the roadway to your death?
Are you ready to take your last breath?
No? What a dull, boring affair...
Get out of the way, far from here!
about a demon coming across an unworthy opponent
Khoisan Jun 2021
Yesterday's heroes
neoteric delinquents
the Grateful dead.
BLT's
Merriam Webster's
word of the day challenge
esoteric / neoteric
EnjoyβœŒοΈπŸ’–:)))
annh Apr 2021
|small gee for god; big bee for byron|
Strikes a chord with you, does it?
This shambling poverty of thought,
Insta-rated and underwhelming;
Thank god for Byron.

|keats versus shelley|
Sparing no injury to his phthisicky frame,
Keats lies atop a make-believe of cherry trees
Searching among the clouds
For wealth, health and a Grecian urn,
While Shelley does Venice
And blows himself a hookah.

|o poesy! for thee I grasp my pen|
Panning the wayward sky for inspiration,
A hope, a word, a beginning;
A versification so ecstatic as to transfix the senses and pierce the heart,
A lightning phrase capable of uprooting all commonality,
As outrageous a miracle in the minds of men as crucified immortality.

|requiem|
Unlike the wilting rose which has no higher calling
Than to bloom and die upon the stem,
And having relinquished its last perfumed petal
Retreat from memory again,
I fear that I shall linger,
Tethered to this eternal moment
By shudd’ring will and breath combined,
A brighter shade of myself than what of me I have left behind.
An extremely weird mix of tone and content! Started out as one thing (a dig at the samey sameness of Instagram poetry) and ended up as something else (a celebration of Keats). Not to mention the β€œBright Star” scene review somewhere in the middle. Never mind - better luck next time!!

β€˜When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
β€œBeauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all he need to know.”’
- John Keats, β€œOde on a Grecian Urn”
Philip Connett Apr 2021
Running Blind Madness
Eyes Wide Heart Pounding
Spirit Lifts Senses Live
Theres Thunder IN THE Atmosphere

This IS A Free Arena
A Gateless Auditorium
Open Fields
Open Wide
Forking Lightning ON THE Horizon

This Natural Inebriation
IN Dynamic Resonation
Anticipation OF THE
Consternataion

Hells Beasts Abound
Snarling Snouts Sounding
Heavy Hoofs Pounding
Crazed Dashing Hounding
IN THE Chaos That'S Surrounding

Hells Beasts Abound
Torso'S Writhing Flailing
Grit Bucking Flailing
Crimson Flow Tailing
THE Gore OF THE Impailing

I'M Knee Deep
IN A River OF Blood
Fleshen Heap
IN THE Reddening Flood

Sodden WET Flesh
Whip AND Turn
Trace THE SKY
With THE Carnal Rain
WET THE Earth
With A Reddened
Stain

Sodden WET Flesh
Whip AND Turn
Trace THE SKY
With THE Carnal Rain
WET THE Earth
With A Reddened
Stain

Sodden WET Earth
Besot With Death Mirth
Drown THE Earth
IN THE Afterbirth
Every Beast THE ****** Herse
DON'T RID ME OF THE ******* Curse

IN AN Ever Rising River OF Blood
Causing Chaos With NO Remorse
I AM Power IN Full Course
Wreaking Havoc

Sump
WET
Dripppin'
Torn
This Bloods LET BY MY Horn
I'M Sopping WET
MY ****** Horn
I Feel Like I'M NEW Born

Drumming Quakes Pounding
Shaking THE Foundation
Lifting Spirits IN THE AIR
I AM GOD Everywhere

Helter Skelter IN THE Chaos
This IS Pandemonium
Freedom Forms
IN THE Void
Electric Flux Obliteration

Pure Intoxication
AS Evil Incarnation
This Revelation
IS Anihilation
As if lyrics of an unfinished song that I wrote when I was about 15 years old...  I dig the atmosphere!
selina Mar 2021
the sky needs to stop bawling
the weather outside does not help
whatever's happening up in heaven
should have solved itself by now

the storms are lovely, but i am tired
of being alone in a house for four
and here in a bed for two
and the one left behind is always me

the walls are crumbling now
they have been worn down for centuries
rain soaks the earth beneath me
this on my face is rain, not tears, i swear

standing alone in an open field
i am one with the universe
so when the lightning strikes
take me with you
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
His love was a lightning bolt that split her bones and left her stalked
out on the grass.

She made his heart beat like thunder and his soul sing with the wind.
I'm not sure that this is a poem but rather a pretty thought. It was written in 2016.
Rollercoaster Feb 2021
I find the charging sky lights to be
disorienting and pure.
Black and white at same time.

It’s a rainbow in the clouds after the rain
and succeeding the dark clouds which make me sane.

I am aware that rain will come again,
yet I don’t know when I will be rain-bound.
Each turn is a change in the circle of pain.

When the lightning strikes,
we look at the bright, white flash of light.
White pierces through the dark,
and confounds us and leaves us looking at the stars.

We wait for it to strike,
only for it to come at the most unexpected of times.
We must not be confused, or surprised.

We should rejoice when things go awry.
For it will too pass, and change will evade.
The earned hope will remain.

For chaos and the unexpected are change,
and change is the inevitable truth which cannot be tamed.
We’re celebrating the chaos and celebrating change.
We’re celebrating the inevitable when we dance in the rain.
Everything is in a circle, it a cycle of interconnectedness or several cycles of interconnectedness which are themselves connected to each other. It is the same storyline, a basic plot line that follows a similar story from the past and everything repeats itself. So, it does not matter what the end goal might be, it is about the experience and the change that will give us a greater understanding. Living though the motions, looking at the circle go, and know a greater story exists and you just have to fill in the blanks to make it your own - to make your cycle of birth and death meaningful and like a ring with a lot of engravings on them and then hanging that ring in an a larger ring that involves the entire existence. Not just your existence, but everything that exists which is also going through the motions and is following the circle and engraving its own little and large details on the Ring of existence.
And at every turn point of the ring, which is almost at every point, there is change and there is chaos.
We think of rain to be release- from winter cold or summer heat. Release from the uniformity of suffering. Yet, rain comes in as chaos. We do not know when it will come and how the raindrops will fall. They will fall as they want to - in utter chaos. After uniformity, comes change. Change comes in form of chaos. And navigating in that chaos i.e. dancing in the rain is thriving and celebrating each little raindrop as it is. We’re celebrating the chaos and celebrating change. We’re celebrating the inevitable when we dance in the rain.
Rea Jan 2021
electricity no longer runs through these tired veins.
eyes are shattered glass. vision obscured by a film of numbness.
laughter sits on my chest uneasily, not sure how to fill
the cracks in my heart.
talking has become an anomaly, my voice lost on deaf ears.
no one notices the splintered girl
trying in vain to feel the currents of heat rising,
to feel anything.
what i would give to be able to see lightning in the sky
and to feel the static between my palms.
the purple-white flashes leaving imprints
on the backs of my eyelids,
they make me remember who i used to be.
i miss the crowds and the voices of the broken
acting as conductors of the near tangible energy.
i could have flown into the sky
when i had those nights in the palm of my hand.
i was charged, alive.
sometimes i swore i could see the webs of lightning
raising the hairs on my arms.
it was real to me.
so here i remain
praying for my spark.
just one spark.
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