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Verlecia F Nov 16
trickle, trickle, little dew drops
your divine tap
has, all but dry up

so with no drizzle
insight
to bring thee rain

our tongues
will all
share the same
dried up fate

so with a bending
feeble knee
i do beg thee
let go
of your purse
and sinful coin
we have no need
to eat the fruit of oil

and with shallow hollow breath
i do downwardly cry
for who will survive?

and a little voice
will say
surely not i
or the rich
or the poor


and in the coming of the
dawn
the heat or the cold
will only bring
bones and tears drops
of lost loves

for paradise was
green and the oceans where (were)
like of the new
but we soiled her

and cover her
in black goo
The ultimate blackface by crude oil!  4/19/2022 Tuesday -
by: verlecia
Saved right now  134 words
-----------------------------------    -----------------------------------    --------Write a poem for contest Prompt: short story, global warming. - Liz G Lucas
Hi, friends,

A little different contest this time. I'm asking for a  short story, no more than 1,500 words. On your opinion of global warming. What you would do about it, if you could. Judging by the weather in Spain so far this year I'd say there was another ice age coming. I have upped the points for this one. Please don't deviate from the subject. Please put words in AN, along with Global Warming. Also please spell check before entering
Mamã foi embora
Ela já não está viva
Ela deixou a Mãe Terra
Ela está no cemitério
A mamã está mais longe
Ela está aqui e ali, realmente
A mamã se foi
E já não está aqui
Connosco, sob o sol
A mamã está no céu
Ela olha para nós e consegue ouvir
Ela está a divertir-se, em um sonho
Vendo-nos lamentar e gritar
A mamã está com a Virgem Maria
Ambos nos ouvem e riem
Tanto que choram no paraíso
Onde ninguém morre
Isto é uma gafe
Que viagem! A mamã foi embora
Mal os podemos ver nas nuvens
A mamã ainda está conosco
É invisível dentro de nós
Como desejamos que as outras mães façam
Feliz fica no cemitério
Que a terra seja leve e macia!

P.S. Este poema é dedicado a todos os que choram.
Translation of “Mommy Is Dead” in Portuguese.

Copyright © Avril 2024, Hébert Logerie, todos os direitos reservados.
Hébert Logerie é autor de várias coletâneas de poesia.
Mama ist gegangen
Sie lebt nicht mehr
Sie hat Mutter Erde verlassen
Sie ist auf dem Friedhof
Mama ist weiter weg
Sie ist hier und dort, wirklich
Mama ist weg
Und nicht mehr hier
Bei uns, unter der Sonne
Mama ist im Himmel
Sie sieht uns an und sie kann hören
Sie hat Spaß, in einem Traum
Uns jammern und schreien zu sehen
Mama ist bei der Jungfrau Maria
Beide hören uns zu und lachen
So sehr, dass sie im Paradies weinen
Wo niemand stirbt
Das ist ein Fauxpas
Was für eine Reise! Mama ist gegangen
Wir können sie kaum auf den Wolken sehen
Mama ist immer noch bei uns
Sie ist unsichtbar in uns
Wie wir es anderen Müttern wünschen
Fröhliche Aufenthalte auf dem Friedhof
Möge die Erde leicht und weich sein!

P.S. Dieses Gedicht ist allen gewidmet, die trauern.
Translation of “ Mommy Is Dead” in German.

Copyright © Avril 2024, Hébert Logerie, alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Hébert Logerie ist Autor mehrerer Gedichtsammlungen.
greatsloth Oct 28
On the Jester's neck was a blade
What will he do? Run and evade?
No, he made fun of its size:
This one wouldn't cut me into dice—
A funny way to the gates of paradise,
Yet a brilliant way to make one never fade.
Beauty, money, and fame will one day vanish—but never a funny story.
If I can escape to my Utopia
Connect with my own bliss
Create my own Arcadia
A Wonderland of Happiness
A Tropical Island get away
Palm Trees, Coconuts and more
A Fantasy Island of my own
So, what am I waiting for!!
I so just want to Get Away and
Save my Troubles for another Day
No  more worries it would be so nice
To Get away to my Paradise
If I had the opportunity, I wouldn't think Twice
Of this being my Paradise
My, my, my, "What A Sight!!"
This would DEFINITELY be my Paradise!!!

By: B.R.
Date: 10/15/2022
I write my paradise
While my soul is in demise
I write to escape
In words I take new shape.

In you I had an ally
Until against me you planned a rally
For order and control
It was all just for show.

I loved and still do
All the good I saw in you
And when the moon is anew
I'll pray I never met you.
Artur Sep 26
Only constant is death;
Life is excitement and upheaval.
Why do men strive towards
Unmoving statues?
Towards paradise
With its ever-blooming
Orchards?
*** is warm,
But doesn’t remain warm
Perpetually.
The serpent,
Moulding,
Inconstant,
Is preferred over the
Constantly blooming flowers.
Sunlight, moonlight;
Fiery apparitions
Dancing in the desert.
Here she comes,
Riding on her
Amorphous, lustful cloud.
Em MacKenzie Sep 16
We practice serenity
with each day that we receive.
No search for amenity
just live off of what we believe.
No shortness of want or need,
look how easily we breathe.

That’s where the old snake stopped me
from attempting to grab the fruit.
There was endless crop to see
there was infinite loot.
We’re living in paradise lost.
We’re living in paradise lost,
and I don’t ever want to be found.

No much more to gain,
we shower within the rain.
Maybe I could stop this train
maybe you could stop the pain.
We have no short of grain
we have no hate or bane.
Rocky Mountains or flat plain,
delusional but still sane.

That’s where the old snake stopped me,
and told me that I need not pick.
The fruit was freely dropping,
raining down so strong and quick.
We’re living in paradise lost,
with nothing bringing us down.
We’re living in paradise lost,
and I don’t ever want to be found.
Jeremy Betts Aug 5
You'd think I requested these
Soul crushing insecurities
That break me down with ease
Like I selected to have bad news to come in threes
In a world that doesn't care about the word please
Closed a blind eye to the forest and the trees
Can't smell my own $hit on my knees
With an A to B through none traversable seas
The promised paradise is vacant properties
What I have are useless keys
And facts with discrepancies
That leaves a heart at absolute zero,
A deep freeze

©2024
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