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Pax Mar 2020
A repetitive omen
that we learn to avoid
over time.
Still bad at it, but im Learning though it takes time, patience is all i have.
SWebster Nov 2019
It’s not big this crow of mine.
Head cocked, observing time.
Perfectly sized to sit upon my windowsill,
Reminding me that dread and fear are a bitter pill.
It calls to me
Stopping me.
I can’t hide and I can’t pretend,
It sees me, watches me my friend.
Waiting and lurking till the end.
Liam Clare Nov 2019
His injured hand bleeds
As he became with greed
A simple change to him
For a large exchange
His mind is a stray
The greed is at play
The money weighs
His mind is broken
His words are spoken
Greed is an omen
That I like so very golden
The money changes his mind, takes away from him turns him into something hes wasn't. He is unable to change.
This heart is going to stop.


It may be a scarry sound next to a pub,
A silent scattershot in a shop to rob,
An exciting smell in a chemic lab,
Or a short nap in a taxi cab.


Only God knows how it will end,
Passing through that particular land.


But indeed this heart is about to cease.


It is the keen and slow pain that nobody sees,
The heavy carelessness bringing no ease,
The fast heart-beaten minutes I lose,
My non-existent ecography's hues.


Only God knows how it ends,
While I'm passing through all these lands.
18.01.2018
EmperorOfMine Sep 2019
Life is a warzone;
yet here I am, calmly continuing forward.

Beautiful tragedy, the scene around me;
where the trees and birds sing together, but not everyone can see.

Opened by the will above;
I hold a force unlike the common.

I am no better, no worse, or etcetera;
I come as a messenger with an omen.

There comes hope in the eye of the sky;
Forces greater than you and i.

But with them will be a document listing lives;
Did you take the one request that came from the hope in the sky?

Open your hearts, for it comes stealthily;
I am not here to frighten you.

I'm expecting you not to trust my words;
but you also have the choice to.

Maybe it's wishful thinking, to hope that you'll understand;
I understand you, a child of Man.

But I am merely a messenger, a poet with an omen;
Surely you'll ponder this, hopeful because you can.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2019
.
I heard a frail thump
Blue bird died in flowerbed
At base of window
.
Rowan May 2019
Blackbird, blackbird, whither 'way
Don't come down this way in
Sleek sails of five and six

Hither here, two and three
Come forth and fly in
Through the broken glass

Onyx separations carve
In six wings lost to starve
May the host slight the royalty

Blackbird, blackbird, whither 'way
Don't come down this way with
Sacrificial dust from seven circling

Hither here, two and three
Come forth and fly in
Through shattered self

Onyx separations carve
In six wings to starve
May the way be paved

Blackbird, blackbird, will I?
In the serene sloughs, call
Out from the dusk, ten sails high?

Blackbird, blackbird
Come around, see my gift
And sing your song
Juhlhaus Jan 2019
Hangs over head by a solitary hair
Pommel set with Lucifer's star
Crossguard of the crescent moon
The Blade a king's interminable doom
On January 31, 2019 in the darkness before dawn I witnessed the triple conjunction of Venus, Luna, and Jupiter in perfect alignment, creating the shape of a long sword in the southern sky. Venus (the "Light Bringer") adorned the pommel, the waning crescent moon formed the crossguard, and kingly Jupiter gleamed at the blade's point. The omen was revealed to me as the fabled Sword of Damocles (dam-uh-kleez) which hangs over all those in seats of power, suspended by a single strand of hair.
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