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Antionicia May 2017
His touch like silk
His eyes as deep as oceans
Voice like a thousand breaths.
If Music was a man.

I would feel what he felt,
Feel it course through my bones
And rock my body with the symphonies.

He wouldn't have to speak, all he'd need to do was let out melodies
and I could tell what he felt.
What he cried about.
What he held close.

If music was man, the way we would love,
well, people would talk about it for centuries.
My body would breathe with the notes.
Soak in the sound of his rough violin chords.

If Music was a Man
Chris Vans Apr 2017
I fell asleep before I was born
I fell asleep after I died
Not Lauren Apr 2017
Just give me a day, I’ll figure it out
My mind can’t decide what to say
I wish I knew what this was about

Part of me wants to give up and pout
But my heart tells me to try until the break of day
Just give me a day, I’ll figure it out

Some days in my sleep I’ll let out a shout
The words of this poem decide they won’t stay
I wish I knew what this was about

This assignment fills me with doubt
It’s causing my brain to decay
Just give me a day, I’ll figure it out

Looking for a sign this is the right route
But the horizons are faded gray
I wish I knew what this was about

This poem has begun to sprout
In the end it’s finally okay
Just give me a day, I’ll figure it out
I wish I knew what this was about
Villanelle form - an assignment in AP Lit. Is it too obvious that I wasn't thrilled about writing this the night before the due date?
Sydney Marie Apr 2017
"They're not attacking you, they're attacking your idea because you were louder then anyone else."
Colm Apr 2017
The moment when you think about
The way it must begin or end
To rhyme or flow
It’s there that you’ve lost the original thought again
For the sake of format
For the sake of style
For the sake of trying to relearn what which you already know
Because the original thought is something to be cherished.
london b blue Apr 2017
i try to get rid of the pain
with other people
but ****, they aren't you.
none of them know my hills like you,
or my rivers.
none of them can outline my constellations like you can.
none of them can put my pieces together like you can;
none of them.
because they aren't you.
Cecil Miller Apr 2017
My words come back  
To me, speak
Of my house of cards,
My house of freaks.
How the danger
lingers near -
How she whispers
in my ear -
How the torture,
So divine -
Holy
Mother Valentine!

(hope you liked it)
Wrote this about three years ago
Cecil Miller Mar 2017
Yes, I've had a kiss before,
But never a kiss like this.
Never a kiss, if you get the jist,
A kiss that gives me bliss.

Yes, I've had a kiss before,
But such a kiss I've missed
That jellies my bones and makes me this.
So, really I've not been kissed

From my chimney to my spout
All my senses steam about.
All the while love is in style,
I know nought but this beguile.
My walls tumble, boundaries crossed,
Wicked wiles, innocence lost.

Yes, I've had a kiss before,
But never a kiss to list
Till I gained from your two lips
A kiss that gives me bliss.
I don't post as often anymore because I have been busy writing a novel, (romance this time, instead of gothic horror) but I hope to be contributing my poems to the great book in the weeks to come
I was a flower who was too afraid to bloom. Fearing my petals weren't beautiful or colorful enough for the garden.
I take care of everything in this world
They can’t stop me
Since I used to be
You know I could **** a million trees

These people on earth need me, but
I don’t need them, if I throw disaster
In their mouths and their bodies shut
You know on this earth I am your master

You are just living on the edge
A tsunami like an ocean of wedge
Don't try to play with me
And you know what consequences it may be
Messenge from our Mother Nature.
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