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Darren Nov 2014
Vagabond with an empty carboy
Searching through the murk of starlight
Drip the molten ice of winter harsh
And the blooms of his past repitoire
Engulfed inside the ethanol marsh

Conscripts fly through bus of steel
Tails of fire and smoky heal
Through the scar shred ****** sand
And rain a glass downpour
That licked a smile to open addiction

Barrel wash and nebulous hide
The screams in blur of addled mind
Red heat burn the hand with shrapnel
Bodies piled in empty screams
Weave through open mouths their spell

Rolls of tracks and wheeled anger
Windows filled by smiles and raining tears
Cobble graves for those who pass
And carafes for relinquished hands
That cannot escape the felt triggered blast

Flower fields like dispersed astral clouds
Colours sharp as bayonets downed
And rusted worn their armaments
Leave in beauty and fictioned dream
For those who died least be their penance

New asteroids collage in belts
Learn the easiness of their strikes
Have fury boiled by worldly ties
And over brims of forges rise
For they must learn their mental cries

Haggard ruins of their youthful posture
Scars and stains litter uniformed closure
The realities nothing can be described
So shall their children not expect
How holding embers in their grip will blind

Threats in words that once were death
Borders crossed without their step
History just words and relics for sons
And in the eyes blanked with the horror
Lest they be forgotten by any one

Soak whom dines on gangling relief
Desire the amnesiac amber thief
But teachers cannot misplace their sight
Have nothing left for meeting glance
Of a innocent smile asking their right

Stand tall with shaking wounded legs
Shell shocked craters as red pegs
In the global map always in shift
Have lessons for the ones whom wish
To know the proper and the wrong we missed

Dwarfs inside the void of matterless
Black blend into the snowy countenance
While burn the brightness of their parents
From ago before repeated actions
Watch fires live in vivid visions

See the tortured starving faces
Break into a knowing grin
As spectral shadows for the lush
To keep their finger always *****
To the evidence we left so much
Originally written on November 11, 2014.  Thirty fourth poem for the Hundred Theme Challenge by The-Poetry-Cafe on www.deviantart.com
My deviantart profile: http://monocephalized.deviantart.com
nicole Nov 2014
they called me
queen of the roads
because i knew
every street
in the city
every avenue
every shortcut

they'd tell me
"here's the address"
and i'd get there
as if i'd driven the route
every
****
day

i had never been lost before
i always knew where to go
queen of the roads
but she didn't know
-or maybe she did-
that the reason
i was so good
was because
i was so afraid
of being out of control

so she took me
and kissed me
embraced me
told me i was the queen
and i believed her
but then
she dropped me
-not before she spun the compass-
and for the first time
i was lost

my hands were not comfortable
on the steering wheel
my foot was not at home
on the pedals
my eyes
they were not used
to this scenery
the blinding darkness
from which
there was no escape
because -oh
thats right-
she blew out my headlights too

she was a hurricane
and i was the driver
and she locked my brakes
and she pushed me
straight into that tree
on the corner of
goose street and rose drive
and that's the last there was
of the
queen of the roads
Darren Oct 2014
Hath they quaver
By any other sway but West
To sunset
For its fallen brother
I would have taken
Far from mistaken
The beads of sweat from rest

Risen dried
Crackle bones lost milk of mother
And other
Departed as the bending sigh
The one that bred its daughter lie
So seed can bloom with mindful bride
Shed off the blissful slumber

Would golden blaze
Be unlike the brass war-chains
In low remains
Whilst weight shift in its wake
Tell moving breath
Out come its wealth
And not the founding of its pains

Slip from sightless
Gloss a cover of unknowing
Left bowing
No wisp of remorse or remiss
But metal shifts
And opened rifts
Divide an ocean outgrowing

Shards beneath
Emblazoned even if in dark
I shall hark
Precious dull that beckons breathe
Even if restrained
Will not let waned
How earthen dreams have left their mark

If I could see
Old ones with minds of gilded time
Would it shine
And make pearls out of shapeless sea
Take their age
Befit a sage
To wrap this darkened world with light

Safe walkway
Come by the cobbles by the days
And passing they
Make moulded casts of harshest clay
So must I
Wait then to lie
Once sibling star has passed my way

Ore-laid wreath
Weigh low my courage rash and weak
So bleak
Beside the timeless task to seek
Shores for the flame
Never the same
Like sands through spyglass let receive

Should they fall
In avalanche cascade their edge
A hopeless fledge
Understand a broken wall
Births fouled resentment
Doubtless consignment
The dam repent its burden baggage

Return
By rivers come a lightened sky
A catching eye
To spread the scattered overturn
Ringlets in the armour glow
Wind suffered gently blow
Witness resending wisdom fly
Originally written on October 18, 2014.  Tenth poem for the Hundred Theme Challenge by The-Poetry-Cafe.  I liked the theme title so much I called this poem such.  It came out a bit more metaphorical than I wanted, involving the use of the lost one's wealth and use, the wealth and use of gold, and the...wealth and use of the days as they breathe in repetition to reset.  I don't know.
Challenge information: the-poetry-cafe.deviantart.com…
Profile: monocephalized.deviantart.com
Theme: Breathe Again.
Darren Oct 2014
Rain into the eves flow down
The surrogate decline
While bubble by the entering
Veins of gypsum window
Stay affixed by mine
And pursue while I pointed leave
The blue underneath
Masked a coursing guise

Whittled off a simple branch
One bud small as the tear
Still mother's hair before its time
To weathered dully glow
Buoy in a sinking fear
One child's wail far
Flow down into the whirling yawn
With blue ropes ready bear

My simple say is silent stalked
By dredged comeuppance will
First droplets tumble off the reed
Then rest in lining scroll
Roots mined until their packs have fill
Once one shine prejudice
The stolen difference be borne
Out with the welling sail
Originally written on October 16, 2014.  Eighth poem for the Hundred Theme Challenge by The-Poetry-Cafe.  Not as straightforward with the theme as some of the others, but I like how it came out.
Challenge information: the-poetry-cafe.deviantart.com
Profile: monocephalized.deviantart.com
Theme: Innocence.
Darren Oct 2014
Waiting for the fruit to fill with pithy seeds
Underneath a barren lifeless tree
The carrion hunters spread their wings
And fan away the pollen on the breeze

My feet are crumpled sacks of bone and meat
My mind an ***** rotten like the orchards
Are scattered by my finger blackened pits
Inedible attractions for the birds

Famished as a calf without its mother
Left by the herd long crossed the overture
I cannot get my legs below my body
And find the gangly chains so I can stir

They wait above my dwindling departure
With slavering testaments to their breed
I am abandoned wasting underneath
With corpses of the scattered lives time bleeds

My gullet cries the reckless yawning end
That lungs have not attempted for so long
I let my chin collapse into my chest
Close my eyes remembering bygone
Originally written on October 16, 2014.
Seventh poem for the Hundred Theme Challenge by The-Poetry-Cafe.  A little shorter than I usually write, but maybe that's a good thing for a change.  Hope everyone enjoys it [as much as the rest of my stuff, or maybe more, I don't know.]
Information on challenge: the-poetry-cafe.deviantart.com
Profile: monocephalized.deviantart.com
Theme: Heaven.
Darren Oct 2014
Before me
I feel the hand another placed
Whether it was so long
That the language they spoke was strange
Or near enough to touch
As was what was now
I cannot say

The demarcations by the brush
And knife and palate board were one
But here I know not to see them
Only to experience a part
A portion of the exchange
Like the loss in translation
So a blind man tries

It is one blank and haze from birth
A single shapeless depth
That endured the years into its gut
Among the faces and the shades
Like a flower know not its scent
Nor the ocean its expanse
I am unable to understand

Smooth cuts along their blades
And rows where the bristles gap
I wage the moats of paint and pencil
And take in their edge
Their weight upon the frame
Like I would the wind
How it blows through my stranger tips

One is lost to outside walls
Obstructing none who know to look
To only what is in one's reach
The window ahead
And not the mirrors
Or the mason brick barriers
That belay a soul whom thinks ahead

To other grasp the naked dream
An emptiness materialize
Through one notwithstanding yield
A glass even I can peer through
That drives the same man
The same soul
To the burdens I have been ******

True sight is one that catches sign
The single or a multitude
Infinity befalls the eye
But those who learn to sort their panes
Can feel through its difference
And guess its weight
Even if their worlds are blind
Originally written on October 13, 2014.
Fourth poem for the Hundred Theme Challenge by The-Poetry-Cafe.  I tried this theme with another work, but got something else so here's this one.
Contest information: the-poetry-cafe.deviantart.com
Profile: http://monocephalized.deviantart.com/
Theme: Dark.
Darren Oct 2014
Bench boards are cold with pearly ropes
The fallen necklace by Hera's spite
Goddess ruling blinded for her wrath
To the ruination of nonchalant hopes

The clatter by the loamy soil
Fallen tree sleeves wipe their cuffs
And down goes gold and ocean gifts
Like bronzed fruit ready to spoil

Take rest so bunions softly shrink
Soles harden but where not tread
For a while the eyes freed can wander
To the round white spheres entangled beneath

Traveller of the gutters find
The goddess grace cast down and lost
Until she spies another's cues
For jealous nature opens the blind

Cradled sand in material cloud
By twine of lifethread in love's promise
Feel something in one's aching joints
That mortality alone allowed

That beauty is a shapeless fiend
By generations leave its shell
Until grandchildren take the rot
And call it godsend always been

Ancient mother's coming call
To unsuspecting holder of her art
The timepiece tells a stranger hour
Of where her children look and fall

Wound by the road have stopped their cries
The forest arms detached have warmed
In evidence that life persists
For gone are all that left have lied

In distant stretch she will descend
A foreign face in hourglass
Clutching her string of memory
No recollection in its head

To empty mind she is a ghost
Epitome of something dreamt
And she will float on past glories
With wisdom of the ages host

To empty mind she represents
A gesture given half in hope
That present thought can wrap around
The interaction now dispensed
Originally written on October 11, 2014.
First for the Hundred Themes Challenge by The-Poetry-Cafe on
Originally posted on said website.
Information: http://the-poetry-cafe.deviantart.com/
Profile: http://monocephalized.deviantart.com/
Theme: Introduction.
Don't Exist May 2014
Every since I was born
every since my first christmas
My first birthday
my experience from school
My first love and hate
my life was forever tainted

I look at the mirror to view my skin
the lightest of all brown
I cry in misery and helplessness
I try to scratch the skin out of my bones but it wouldn’t go
I look at my last name and shiver
I look at Santa Claus and wonder
I look at the people around me and I become lost

I dream of them coming
with their ugly wrinkled faces
and their barbaric ways
and ****** the little girls from their innocence
the ones that are my great great grandmothers
laughing and instilling the idea
that they were going to be theirs forever
and till this day they are

I look at T.V to see how they portrayed my sisters
skinny and shaky
poor and sad
but who have stolen from them?
The T.V?
The world inside the T.V?
Or my world?

But  I viewed  the true place of origin
So tropical,fresh, and healthy
civilized and intellectual
dark and beautiful
but this only sadden me more

I feel like throwing up
To regurgitate all my hatred from this wretched place
and when I look for my skin for answers
I simply give up

I’m trap
In this delusional world
Full of people who are lost
who lost their homes
and their skin and life tainted
Till death do us part
A simple poem
Michelle May 2014
More than I can
Possibly try to handle
Is the raucous breath
That sears my lungs
Once in, once out
Is at first much harder
Than near anything
I have ever done

Then footfall softly
Creeps by my door
And oak's deep creak
Declares I have
A solemn visitor
And two crusted eyelids
Part ever so reluctantly
To discover who looks on

A smile sweetly blesses
My tear-stung face
As I recognize the love
That gazes down at me
Slowly, carefully, I rise,
And an arm meets my side
To take me gently up
Out of the darkness where I lie

Through those eyes,
Warm with patience
And caring support
I find I have strength,
Much more than I believed
I could ever keep again
And neglected legs
Find strength to revive

I find I can stand,
And so, of course, I do
Rising straight into
The loving embrace
Of the one who found me
So far lost in misery
Without a spark of hope--
And brushed my tears away

Arms wrap around me
Warm lips press
Softly on my head
And I hear a whisper
That I more feel than hear
Which tells me tenderly
That absolutely everything
Will be all right
I'm back, for who knows how long. Thank you for reading.

— The End —