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Nik Bland Sep 2018
Ramshackled dream
Held together with glue and string
And prayers
Floating as a feather
Yet easily the heaviest of things

What tapestries you inspire
Yet not strong enough the exit my mind
Keeping you hidden
Incubating long term
Until you’re almost over cooked

Make I take a glimpse of you
Never to touch, in fear of the break
Complexly understated
A warming flame
Flickering in this empty cold world

Ramshackled dream
Pretty to most, breathtaking to me
Sitting ever fervent
Waiting to shine
Wait to breathe the air
Danial John Aug 2018
Damnation in a ****** nation.
Your thoughts are only your own if you don't say them.
From simple complexities to advanced basics.
We are an oxymoron and it's time to face it.
That or otherwise become complacent.
Then you'll have an excuse for when the human race ends and you're in the last placement.
Words to ears are not superior to feet to pavement.
Enough talk, only action can save us.
Pauline Morris May 2018
Oxymoron

Good judgment comes from experience, experience from bad decisions
This whole ******* life is a contradiction
It's an oxymoron at every turn
Every decision only gets you burned
If in old age you manage to arrive
That's when life's lessons are realized

The young are bound in the futility of it all
Never seeing the cliff before they fall
Not wise enough to know
God clipped our wings before the throw
He turned everything upside down
When he placed us on this hellish ground

We all were marked
You can't see the light unless your in the dark
You don't appreciate the sun's rays
Till you've stood in the storm for days
Without pain you wouldn't relish the pleasure
Without work, there would be no leisure
What is good, if taken to much only leads to bad
Giving love away leaves you with more than you had
The act of forgiveness is not for the one that hurt you
But heals your soul before its through

So do the best you can in life
Even when it equals strife
For this world will keep you spinning
For the score card is plain, death is winning

But don't you worry, I'm sure that's an oxymoron too
When deaths door we pass through
Real living, then will we ensue
In death there will be no rest
This life is but a test
For the oxymoron weaves it's way through it all
Even when death, at your door calls

©Pauline Russell
I guess I’m okay… What more can I say?
Forget it—never mind,
You wouldn’t understand anyway,
Would you even know what it's like?
Inside a scattered disconnected mind,
Employed to go on strike?
Where indirect misdirect
The sincerity at play,
When sinusoidal chaos spikes
And past meets the future present day?
As paranoid points outlandishly connect
At intervals of broken lines,
Memory lost in recollect,
An array of misshaped bells
Internally infect the eternal confines
Of infinite distributional decay,
Parallels with no intersect,
Streetwise cells with empty signs,
Burned out lights, potholes, and landmines,
Littered all the way.
How am I to convey that all those times
You let your mind wander away
That I was reading, thinking, dreaming,
Teeming, never idle, never strayed,
Seeing, being, so far and away,
Even the brightest intellect beaming,
Could not grasp the feeling
In the slightest of highest orders reeling,
Wound unbound, or as it would be seeming,
Imperfect, even to the disarray
Of the tamest prefect, whose verdict
Could not predict the reflect,
For in this world, seeing is deceiving,
As the lamest reject, defect,
Increasingly decreasing,
In simplistic bliss obey
Crowned unsound fallacies
That contradict all meaning,
Hiding behind reality, the actualities
Lest, protect the thoughtlessness perceiving,
Let me stop you if I may...
I must interject for I digress,
What nonsense was I weaving?
Forget it—I've lost my mind,
I best be leaving,
What more can I say?
It's periodic I must confess,
You probably don't care anyway,
Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay,
Until next time I guess,
I wouldn't want to be misleading.
I’m scattered but I’m on point.
Débijonne May 2018
my mind a controlled chaos,
my heart an organised mess
beautifully painful are my emotions
i arguably acquiesce.
with my naturally strange company,
you’ll learn to deal with what life brings;
like the sad joys and sweet agonies,
with all the huge little things.
typically weird sometimes.
awfully good at acting natural.
i like small crowds in order to be myself
somehow, it is weirdly normal.
i’ve never told a lie, i am a liar.
i always busy myself with nothing.
i care deeply for humanity but
oftentimes, i loathe human beings.
my past experiences make me burn in tears,
i drown at the fire brought by
the aftermath of my unpleasant years.
so to protect myself,
i hate to love and love to hate.
just same differences, they create.
Mary-Eliz May 2018
Can the opera inspire a Pantoum?

just a phantom thought!
Feeling silly this morning.,,maybe because I didn't get enough sleep last night! :-)
Paint your sky in the colour you choose.
Decorate it with the patterns you choose.
Compromise it in the way you choose.
Add defects that beautify your creation.

A broken heart symbolises newly gained intellect and maturity.
Your impurities define your beauty.
Traveler Feb 2018
It’s good to be back
With a sharpened pen
In forward emotion
Let us extend
Our tangled heart
Frozen in love
Let us write
Pull and shove

Let us unwind
In unrest of mind
The unfaithfulness
 Of loyalties bliss
Let us conceive
Thought flowing free
Subjectively shadowless

But most of all
Let keep standing tall
Facing the new day rising
Hanging low on tip of toe
Vertically upon the horizon
Traveler Tim
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