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Oculi Sep 5
Vong, they call me
And call to me they do
The stitch, the incision
The lung of a fish
The bite of a tiger

Vong, they call me
Newer now than ever before
The ship sinking almost
My shoes fill with water
But to drown, never

Vong, they call me
Never knowing what made me so
It was somebody else!
All the holes, the drills
The incisions, the wounds

Vong, they call me
But am I Vong?
Or am I not?
Do I miss it?
My life as before?

Vong, they called me
But Quetzal I am
And bury Vong, I must
For he is filth, heresy
For he hurt me, and himself

And the sky turns blue
And the water blue
And Vong's face blue
But he will not drown
He asks for a space on my ship

His body torn in 17
His eyes curmudgeon
His limbs mismatched
His skin a darkened grey
I won't call him Vong

And sail towards the Sun
Sail towards the Sun
Sail towards the Sun
Sail towards the Sun
Without arms, man the ship, protect your kin

Vong, become my brother
You've been through the sea
You've been through the sky
You've flown through the blood red Sun
But still you strive for the ship

Safety, oh you beautiful safety.
To lead a better life, inside the Sun
And wait for the fire to pass
Wait for the ship to rise
Wait, for your love shall be here

Vong, they call me.
But Quetzal I am.
LearnfromBOBD May 12
Obsession makes you over protective
I don’t know if it’s a clause or adjectives
You make me go down on my knees,
‘For the love I had for you.
I can even wash your *******,
If that’s cool by you.
If your love gonna sum up to a cost
I dunno
it’s a curse that I won’t be with you but all alone
I trust you like I’m waiting for the end
I’ll hate you like I saw you with ‘nother man on bed
I will **** me, you, him for fast judgment
You won’t be the one to tell me that’s the end
Mehek May 5
Running makes me obscure
like the lone wind on a shallow shore
limbs rumbling
heart clenching
I feel alive.
why is the only thing that makes me want to die also the thing that makes me feel  alive?
Naya May 4
I hold you up so high, it’s like you could grasps the spangled stars that are in mere reach of you;
and I wonder why sometimes,
for I too deserve this divine view
when there is no balance, i'm better off on my own
RBWhite Mar 13
The Moon of Fire,shining through her sanity's desire,
She dreams of rest,longing for the moon's fire,
When love disappears and her ghost lingers,
The obscure will dare,dare to tame her rage,
And he will fail,
Because the moon awakens in the fire of her gaze.
This poem belongs to my BLACKXPOETRY series
purple turtle Mar 10
Laughter filled the air
With no worries or cares
Bliss burned intensely
The whirling wind astir
Floating fiercely
The dawn
It's aching with blood and tears
With it
A dew doused ultimately
A spark ablaze
A lost cry carries
unto the sky
Seems he wanders
To ponder its way out
jee Dec 2018

hot-rod red, boiling—veins snake, denim—skin throbs.

my eyelids are pounding.

dozens of sparrows, pushing at pale canvas.

thunder gasps at the
of my lungs.

at the fuse.


an Edgar warning;
thumping at wooden chest,

it just echos.

i am not your dictionary.

i am not your dictionary.


hollowly, it

muffled by fire-truck cloth
and sun-starved cotton.


blue trees dance to the
singing up at skylight eyes.





(n) the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.
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