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Washed ashore a mile away
the blackened puddle floats
immortal flame.

The slow heavy liquid, drizzled syrup-like
to stain the white.

Edge along the oil spill
A wave of polluted air inhaled
A trial of sadness poured
Muddied hands slick with more
Ed C May 8
It's a strange thing to look inside yourself
and see darkness, black oil bubbling
with animal feathers floating,
drowning  in the thick.
I feel like a well, with nothing but depth
with no one to pull me out, no rope
to even hang myself with.
When you sit in the darkness
with wings too sticky to fly out
you see faces and reflections
that take your mind and stretch it
into unrecognizable shapes.
I am stuck in the oil
of my compressed stress.
I have been having incredibly dark thoughts
mia May 1
she is water
and I am but oil
This is really melodramatic and bad but i haven't been able to write poetry in so long so this is all I could come up with
Steve Page Mar 15
Lichtenstein crashed into Monet's garden under the mistaken impression that a pulse of pop would compliment the oil on water, but instead his WHAAM missed its target and his POW wept hot, bleaching the aqua white with noise and ripping the lilies to shreds.
'Oh, Claude,' he cried, 'it's a masterpiece!'
Prompted by a friend's painting which looked just like this.
Julia Feb 9
i have an Uncle
he steals my money
he steals my ****
and burns it all
in front of me

i have an Uncle
who’s a misogynist and racist
a murderer and ******
a fascist and a terrorist
he stole my Fathers’ lands
he beats my Mother’s womb

he is addicted to white powder
black blood and green gold
he worships forces
to seize control
over every mind, body, and soul
my Uncle belongs in prison
but he owns those too
written on 10/19/18
...What does love look like today?

Love today looks like brown butter bourbon ice cream and sunlight
Like body oil on soft legs
And smoothie cream in even softer hair
Like breathing and disappearing in sheets
Like breast free of cups that don't hold me like the universe does
Like lips that taste of caramel
And a bedroom that heals in lavender
Like woman done waiting
Like woman simply being
Like body untouched, un-tethered.
IncholPoem Jan 11
Sometimes    your
time  may  be  bad
for dinner's  Christmas

   Sometimes   flying    birds
may  come  down
to  meet  you after
your  failure n  exam.

Sometimes   rushing  bullocks
may  return from
cultivating  land  to
fight   with   ox  for  ***.

Sometimes   tops may  not
move  on   palm
die   due  to rise
cost  of  palm oil.
Julia Jan 8
did u hear
what the president did this year?
and do u fear
that the ending is drawing near?

twin towers
now a blanket of dust
dead flowers
on the graves of the just

how many more
will they send off to war
for the right to explore
oil on foreign shore?

i’m not down anymore

i’m making a change
taking it upon Myself to rearrange
and i know they’ll call me strange
but knowledge is the most valuable exchange

soon we will all agree
that **** cheney
his head in shame
they brought our soldiers home just to replace them with drones.
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