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Are equals in killing
When lover knew the beloved would be gone
He would take a death as crown
And he hate the life as it became closed
The ring of world got so narrowed
He could not breath even it was tight

The sad came as a giant, everything would be destroyed
The smile had been dead and the life was blocked

The gun killed with easy movement
A press on the trigger with less concentrated
The bullet flew with shocking move
And the death angel attached
Hand by hand shoulder by shoulder was stuck

The blood bleed and  the eyes were rolled
Then looked at the high point up
The hands dropped , the legs were weakened
It could even move and one dropped
Last called corp.

Gun draw circle of blood
Moving its hand with red
Gone is the word closing
Every hope had champed
What a life that makes faults as non return road!
the life needs hope and destroyed it is the bad fault
Mark Toney Oct 2019
cool green leaves rustling
hot red tin roof expanding-
freedom of movement
stiff arthritic limbs longing
go - exercise caution - stop
8/14/2019 - Poetry form: Tanka - A Japanese poem of five lines, the first and third composed of five syllables and the others seven. In Japanese, tanka is often written in one straight line, but in English and other languages, we usually divide the lines into the five syllabic units: 5-7-5-7-7. Each tanka is divided into two segments. The first three lines are the upper phrase, and the last two lines are the lower phrase. The upper phrase typically contains an image, and the lower phrase exposes the poet's ideas about that image. - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Juhlhaus Oct 2019
I am a creature
Of movement and pain.
In movement and pain I exist
And have always existed.
To cease movement
Will be to pass from existence.
I am a creature
Of movement and pain.
A marathoner's mantra.
Poetic T Oct 2019
Life can derail you sometimes
              but you just have to get

on a new track.

And at each new station of life depart,

                         relax till its time to once again

to  travel the tracks of life...
Oskar Erikson Sep 2019
calling a lost lover
to begin to head on over
this bedroom was only a boarding gate
and this bed your layover.
Lilly F Aug 2019
I don't know how you do it but with every
delicate, graceful movement and shift you make
heads turn in your direction


©L.F.
pt 4 from the series of poems I've been writing: what I love about you
A Simillacrum Aug 2019
who am i to say if the mozzer's lost touch?
what does my rough draft have
that is missing from his manuscript?
nothing. so, i'll sit down here
before the microphone and say,
Everyone says I have trauma,
But they don’t know a thing.
I always thought I didn’t do things by halves,
But I only do the last end of suffering.

There is no trauma there,
Should I hate to disappoint you?
(I don’t.)
Everyone thinks I have trauma.

And when I feel strong,
Is it ever good enough,
Or too much, too healthy?
Must I be faking,
Or am I just dissociating?
Everyone believes I have trauma.

There is no trauma back there.
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