A hundred tears
A thousand fears
3 is your name
3 is my pain
3 is your face
3 is the change
MySelf to pieces split and cleaved,
o'er the grave he stood bereaved.
When salvation seemed so close at hand,
he saw confusion in the plan;
Two halves of One he must retrieve.
The Seven Lights he sought to find,
suspended east-ward in the sky.
When once or twice he, free of fear
spied his heart out chasing deer;
he knelt - trembling before the lie.
Breathing slowed - the flowing saddle
in which he rode, abreast Death's rattle.
The numbers upward, did he climb
from six to seven, eight to nine;
symbols of a timeless battle.
In purgatory now I wait
for Flame of Hell or Heaven's Gate.
Strange personalities within vibrations,
a Cosmic Gong to heal Death's Station;
I stand my ground - I forge my fate.
Wherefore art thou Chariot I ride,
that which I've been given, hidden by the sky?
A Sphere of Mirrors w/ no sides,
into my tear of fire doth collide;
A temperamental Horse I ride.
what it feels like to wake up
One million reasons to cry
Yet I can't find
Which one's mine
im back again hoes
anyway does anyone wanna play on ps4 or something
Just like you
I am doing my best
Holding onto reality
by it's fragile strands
trying not to drown
in time's quicksands
These days I feel divine,
there is a big awakening
happening all around me.
Tonight I know I won't slip
I will sleep in the mourning
With time's finger prints
all over my skin
Beautiful scars, mother nature's tattoos....
Inspired by a simple conversation with my poetic brother from mother earth!
grains in our galaxis
Write make history our time is now
we are all in this together
7 continents one hourglass
oil of the old axis
"All the cokes are the same
and all cokes are good"
"Everybody looks alike and acts alike,
and we're getting more and more that way."*
you read and
you are not read
add up or they don't
I will never write a
here and there
an authentic voice,
amidst all the
mass produced in "The Factory"
I get it, Andy,
I hate Coke,
I hate cheap and easy writings,
the most assuredly not,
I will never give them what they want,
only what they don't want
Friday, the 13th.
Something bad is going to happen.
13 is an unlucky number.
But is it?
Can a number be unlucky?
Can something that is getting used in the world be unlucky?
13 is just a number.
A number that can mark a day, be something special for some persons.
But for me it is a lucky number.
No one can define what makes something lucky or unlucky.
Everybody decided for themselves what is supposed to be good for them.
Luck can not be predicted.
It just happens.
Luck is unlucky.
No fancy journals
Designer markers or pens
Number two pencil
I now write in pen actually but this was written back when I only used pencils
there are times where I regret deleting your number
maybe I could have messaged you
"Hey, how's it been?"
then I look at what you've become
and I realize that it was worth it;
for the best
Piecemeal, a Coronavirus poem
by Michael R. Burch
And so it begins—the ending.
The narrowing veins, the soft tissues rending.
Your final solution is pending.
(A pale Piggy-Wiggy
will discount your death as no biggie.)
Keywords/Tags: coronavirus, plague, Trump, final, solution, stat, statistic, number, ratings, reelection