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Jeremy Betts Apr 4
My own Personal Playground of Persistent Pandemonium
Pisssing People off Passionately,
Playing more than just a Part in their Problem
Picking Particular Pieces to Pack this Prolific Poem
Pulling off a Perfectly Perceived Premise
Until your Placement becomes your Permissive Prison
Poetic justice, I've got a Poetic license,
Permitting Primitive Primate like Procedures
Possible only because Perplexed Principles Prematurely, albeit Permanently, Pick Pungent Practices
Primarily Planning Precarious Peril, Priming Painful Predicaments
Publishing Print on Paper
Pent-up Paranoia Pushing Profane Prophecies
Probably Protruding Past Popular Perception
Preventing Pint sized Pea brains from Polluting People who Ponder their Planetary Purpose instead of Perfection
Parallel Planes Pairing Probable Permissive Propaganda
Providing Precision on Par with Polaroid Picture Panorama
This Pricey Psyche showing Persistence Prevails
But can't Press Pause
So Please hear my Plea,
Pretty Please,
Permit me the Power to Permanently Purge the Piercing Pain
To Ponder no longer the Placated Pointlessness of the Puzzle and Put away Pandora's box
To Promptly Procure my Place beyond Purgatory
As Promised

©2024
https://youtu.be/geTPZRrIiKc?si=cf2HzFoGavV_Gp1m
By this time 2019 the onslaught had begun..
devastating attack on mankind not carried out by guns..
just a virus, tiny yet deadly ravaging the world..
not an equal monster in decades, Covid-19 it was called.

mysteriously crept into our world, inexplicable origin..
lurking around rails, trails and air just to gain entry..
wrecking down all systems immune, nervous and circulatory..
sniffles life out of victims at the early stages, men was scary.

left us so terrified  in our towns and in our cities..
grounded and brought to a halt economic activities..
built up a partition of no solid material..
amongst us all, rich, poor and even the influential.

Once crowded streets in its wake were lonely and desserted..
nice playground activities and symposiums neglected..
for the dread of the global monsterous virus..
oh! no! never again we hope we beat the virus.

It took from us loved ones both promising and elderly..
frightening mode of operation, collapsing the lungs steadily..
trailing wails world all over from the healthcare facilities..
universal pandemonium, we were overwhelmed seemingly.

Emotionally traumatising was the unpleasant experience..
of watching its victims gasping in the midst of abundance..
I cried like many many others seeing a menace to existence..
and all we did was pray for return of peaceful ambience.

till date still place a limit on human interactions..
medical practitioners working their ***** off..
to get a cure for it although now there's vaccination..
was an era in human history, covid-19 what a distraction!
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
You chugged down a pint of stout
Reason running in and out
Your friends cheering you on
Until all reason is completely gone
   In a moment of uncertainty
   You poise the possibility
   Of ordering another pint of that hilarity
You get another one and a shot
You feel your head spins and you're hot
You're being cheered on by your friend-squad
Reason's leaving, but you're not
   The evening just began
   And you feel a certain urge to dance
   Then that concludes
   You get the pint again
   And the reason still eludes
About the unreasonably high alcoholic consumption most folks go through at some point.
“The words just won't come, but the feelings are all here
Misunderstood mind-monsters whispers and that's all I hear
My tears are on hold; it refuses to be shed,
The silence turns into pandemonium as soon as I lay down my head

Some elusive words are hidden within my tainted heart,
Drenched in blood; a beautiful art
The thought of ever uttering those words suffocates me,
Thus the mind-monsters echo the words repeatedly

Every day I wish to escape these memories,
But seems like all that escapes me is my sanity
I was forced to acknowledge the muse in my miseries,
The mind-monsters said it would be one less frailty

Now as you walk this staircase to my mind;
Seek my angels to convince these mind-monsters to be kind” ~ Demi.M Potts
Jeremiah Winters Feb 2018
Wow what a ride I'm on
Man how much time has gone
How could the tide so rapidly subside
Just after doin yet one more line
Wow is her body so fine
And the way we take flight
My o my, the girl gets me so high
The way it feels so right
The way we fit so tight
Its like the beginning of the end of time
Or that other life when I was a double spy
Like the way I felt as a little child
Life wide open so fresh and mysterious
Seems to me there's nothing to fear in bliss
She rolls a tear as we let go from the last kiss
The earth and its magnetism are on a major shift
As soon as the winters done, I'll b on a major kick
If I don't read anyone else's lyrics, I can avoid subconscious plagerism
If I start to regularly meditate, I'll be b free from cages within
**** I'll never give up participating in sum of my favorite sins
The heart has many ways to sew its many mends
Maybe its that I'm still just looking to win
Maybe I'll finally begin tapping fr within
So many things I wanna begin
Never thought I'd meet so many friends
I drop to my knees and pray I stay in the right way
I stayed in the light today
The fine art of playing
Just to play
Like the kid I was
Just yesterday
Acina Joy Nov 2017
We're all new endings and beginnings,
raised as paramours to our rips and tears.
We swayed like Wordworth's Daffodils,
and we all cried out in the air.

We're faded pictures in an infinity
told to believe in the death of our lives.
But we were never taught how to live
in this world filled with beautiful lies.

So there was no foreground to build upon,
but we were given the chance to survive.
Even when we all can't dance to live,
we can make music to battle the anguished cries.
-i'm word vomiting again. help me

just a short poem about life and death
Acina Joy Nov 2017
We are all so weak.
Soft. Tender. Transparent.
So easily scarred.

We take things. Break things.
Hurt people. Hurt those we love.

We swallow the shards of
fragmented words. We all hurt ourselves
when given the chance.

But it all wasn't for the attention.
It is the spiral to our breaking point.

But we are so weak.
Soft. Tender. Transparent.
So easily scarred.

We never seem to get enough.
-this is  small poem I made when I was in Grade 8. I revised my old writing, and I found how I've improved so far in writing.
Acina Joy Sep 2017
Blood boils over the chalice
in an insurmountable quantity,
pouring straight through the cracks,
spilling on the concrete and it stays,
dried like the Sahara, waiting for it to be scraped
off into non-existence

But it's torment to stare,
to remember the flitting thoughts
that refrain the calm to get back

Adamant to get over our Achilles heel,
striking the bruised flesh over and over
on a wall in detriment of our anger
Persistent to stand still on its feet,
to knock us over and over again

A breathing torso, has a defended chest
Guards are held up around the beast
Confined in a cage that turns brittle to
the eternities that pass by, and it crumbles

We crumble.
It's torment to think about it and not
to let it in.
nonsense into the early morning of late September
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