Just two ships, passing in the night
or two shopping carts, at the grocery store
glances that say, what could'a might'a
or maybe even, more

Who knows, who can postulate
all the what should have beens
some maybes, or conjugates
a minor sin, of skin

The look the pass of eyes
kindling of perchance flames
mentally too compromise
not even knowing, names

Never mind to reconcile
the quiet cost of ecstasy
whether yes, or not worthwhile
just, a crazy glance
and a simple
Your eyes meet, for less than a second, yet, you know! :D
Jacob Lyons May 7
I don't know what to do anymore
And this won't be full of rhymes
This is all free-written right now
And this could be the last one
I wanted to live like a rose
Full of beauty until I died
But like most flowers in life
I'm there, looked at, and that's it
I'm sorry if this has no conclusion
I'm praying for one to come to me
And I'm really hoping next month
Says a lot more than what is here
I just wanna know if you like me
I don't wanna mess with my psychee
I'm just wondering what we might be
Cause I'm stressing out slightly.
I don't take feelings lightly
My doubt will always fight me
I'm over thinking nightly
Just wondering what we might be
Even when you held me tightly
Unsureness will always bite me
When you smiled at me brightly
Does that mean that you like me?
I hate that you're just like me
Thats why you'll never write me
The truth put concisely
Is we're both scared
of what we might be
And we're both scared of what the other mighht see
Love is a road paved icy
One slip and they might leave
Oh what might be
Can be scary.
and long since abandoned suitably
   casual to figuratively hack
an itch to be scratched, cuz social security -
   social anxiety did high jack -
qualification to received unearned income,
   boot aye and da missus lack

financial plenti tude, and oft times
   scrounging along the scrim edge line of life
   doth make me postulate to sever ties
   with the living courtesy of a big mack
truck, but that induces immediate revulsion,

   since that modus operandi
   would leave a messy track
thus, the follow ah share
   as this good humor man
   feigns bing out ta whack!

sum pee pull cull me a schmart ants
e'en though i lack an iPhone,
   five, but take
  a fox trot ting pooch cha cha chance
at let mooch hutch
   ah dog gone words dance
across the screen 4u 2 glance

and envision this chap
   to bow, wow and en-hance
springing sprightly
   like a human lance
hoping nada
   to get a rip in his pants
so...kick back n try
   to comprehend this bard ass rants.

sprinkled e'er so lightly with ra asp pea common
snazzy, snarky, snaky
non constricting boa tock nickle terms.
akin to a termite ex
   pending energy thru wood to bear

   bore ring search for income quite
   arduous, andslow as a bookworm
   burrowing some great literary tome
back the day, the slogging chore
unsatisfactory, thus, soon tubby sue pine
   wordsmith thought (in jest) to spruce quest per

   my non-conformist
   poetic je ne sais quois
   x cell lent cover letter de jour
for hue to access and me to entertain
   as a minimum less or more
and then...into circular
   filing cabinet ye will store
this non-formal reap ply,

   which email
   will take an cyberspace tour.
pixar could nada pay enough
   for this trainer
   of apple chomping antz
so i wonder if any chance
   whisker of employment

vis a vis thru
   this contrived virtual
   toy story qua ratatouille poetic brew
could materialize
   into a likely chance
such an idea generates me

   to shrek out with excite
   ment and dance
just in case a glimmer
   of some prospect exists
for self anointed bard,

   one who dislikes formality
now presents his technical skills
   which he hopes to enhance
p'raps e'en earn enough moolah
   to sight see the arc d'triumph,
   louvre, paris france

i offer the following poetic expression
   for ye to take a glance
and mebbe help
   this intuitive homo sapiens
   per his income
  to expand and en-hance
which byte size bit torrent humor
   might Putsch chew in a permanent trance

after misinterpreting this mishmash
   as some rave and rants
per even a part time need exists
   please let me share
   some positive stance
with subtle intent
   to place me as worth hiring,
to sway some au currant
   series electronic charge
and ideally affect hypnotic trance.

i betcha never chanced and to reddit
   perhaps you espied a similar post elsewear
   like this iambic pentameter electronic wire
from a boyish looking
   blood muggle father although up in years
(whose nonpareil courage
   to face Voldemort never does tire)
and two near grown girls,
   would consider him a worthy hire

less so to rake in gobs of moolah,
   but to satiate
   this unquenchable hunger and thirst
for further (ahem)
   bits of computer know how to acquire.
although this cover letter of sorts
   conveys teensy weensy, itty bitty
byte size actual work experience
(per this older mist ta lives a boot
   thirty plus miles

   northwest of philadelphia city)
nonetheless, i hanker
   (NOT to be confused with HACKER)
to employ my computer skills, plus bits of moxie
playing at nearby Roxy
burrow, which prompts the following ditty
to express interest to apply manual
   and mental rooted tasks
   ala computer trouble shooting
some ascribe passe or as nitty gritty

on a par with
   the secret life of one walter mitty
whom destiny protected and took pity
merely meant to be silly
yet also an attempt to be witty.
yes no matter how many miles by car
(actually your company might be within
   dead man walking distance)
this nectar savoring opportunity

   would not be considered to far
to use my acumen and interest
   and technologically spar
using graphical user interface programs
   to get unstuck from virtual soiled feathery tar.

iambic pentameter might be a faux pas
and not traditional standard
   genre for a cover letter
i see no reason with rhyme
   why non-conformist modus vivendi
cannot serve as modality

    communicate pursuit
as a computer repair technician go getter
which honest to stem -
   a grounded confession
hopefully affects grim prospects against
   other respondents at least a bit better.

this budding pure breed
   mud half blood muggle prince
born (whom most think me
   full o wart colored hogwash) - yea
truth seeker for employment
does reckon the following poetic way

devoid of employment vitae,
   since that would show a dearth
yet decided to resort to verse
   to induce a byte size mirth
of requisite (sought after)
   technical flowery expertise,
   i do possess the attributes well worth.
moon Feb 3

I wish I may,
I wish I might,
give you the stars,
in the sky tonight.
For just another night, and I thought of you, lsm.

Audora Dec 2017
I just might forget
I'm made of broken parts
Evi Dent Halo Dec 2017
Harness the sun.
I have in my holster
A ball of light
Hold it tightly!
Burn every soul
All are cold,
The world is night.
With the power of might
The sun at my side,
(Fearful fearful.)
Infinite energy
I have in my holster
The sun of all light
The sun is stinging: I with it's might.
The power I weild is the power of light.
It cries for revenge
But I'll not let it go further
I am the matter, the sun in my holster.
Scream! Gutteral roar!
The cry of the nations!
The sun in my holster.
Power is power-
My frame unshaken!
In my holster- the infinite sun
The infinite God,
The sun of all suns.
Defense isn't needed
With the sun in my holster
The God I've succeeded, the sun will not smolder
The God I succeed:
The sun in my holster.
A power trip. A being that took the sun captive, a being that took the greatest power captive.

FINV "Holster." v3 (10/5/17-12/1/17) - by Evi Dent Halo
Hannah Zedaker Sep 2017
To describe this feeling is to blind me, but if to express this is blinding, I have no problem with not seeing seeing at all.
It floods me, my brain.
As if a frost crossed my mind,
And freezes every thought I’ve had before you.
I can feel it in my temples and shift to my cheeks and slowly this all engulfing feeling has crept into my mouth…….
And I’m about to speak, but I slam.
The gates are closed.
I’m trapped inside a prison of own what ifs.
What if…
What if you reject me and the frost turns to ice, and by the time it’s hit me its crept into my heart. Now I’ve become an impenetrable fort, permitting nothing else to enter.
What if you run……..
You’ll run so far that this invisible string that’s bonded us is tied to my heart and will rip it right from my chest.
But what if…….
But what if this feeling never leaves……
Don Moore Sep 2017
Dark yet light
Warm yet cold
Rough yet smooth
Old yet young
Many yet one

Remembers love engraved
Forever without sin, waving in the wind
Bent with force, bows its head
And yet, looks straight ahead
Stands still and silent its feet entrenched
Sometimes clothed, sometimes naked to the eye
Strong and straight or gnarled and bent
Shaded or stark it welcomes light

Grows mighty from so small
Features colours red, green and gold
Casts open its arms for all to behold
A perch, a home, an attitude of strength
Somewhere to climb when child like
And some would call it home within its arms

Reaches to the sky that it embraces
Knows the aroma of many places
And sometimes bears wonderful presents
Or foods of foreign resources on platters of clay
It holds silver, stainless steel and gold
And with parchment like sails
It would carry you off to lands and strange places

We take its worth without thought
We laden it with our burden
We drink in its presence without thought
We eat at its heart, for which it never complains
This is the magnificence of woodland Oak.
Written for the book 'A Lizard's Tale'.
I'm Tired Aug 2017
I try
With all my might
To use words
as an escape
          -A way out
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