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Marmaelady Jan 18
And I am stevia
Together
We’re a snacc.




Because if my heart ever sought for one taste
It’d be your love.



Interesting, I’ve never tasted peanut buttered fish before.

But I’d like to taste you more.
How odd. How unstructured. My brain is going haywire today XD
Lee Carter Dec 2020
"To be or not to be,"
That is the question,

nothing more.

The answer is for you to choose,

nothing more.








Nothing more.
Betty Oct 2020
In the garden stir the flowers
That whisper through the trees
A subtle hint of fragrance fading on the breeze
Ripples over pebbles
Gentle rushing of the stream
Is the smile in cool reflection
That of you or Angeline?
In the binding choking clinging ****
Which stops the waters flow
Do you find her auburn tresses
And that face as white as snow
Does she walk beside you?
Like she did so long ago
It was you that drowned her
So only you would know!
Halloween is a time for Edgar
Zack Ripley Oct 2020
NO ONE can help or please EVERYONE
But ANYONE can help or please SOMEONE.
Gauri Pandit Jul 2020
Let me catch those dreams with my dream catcher,
let me feel those fresh air inside me
let me feel the fresh fragrance of love inside my veins
let me fulfill my dreams
Zhavaed Haemaed Jun 2020
Eerie when it's three twenty-five
In the mornings of a nevermore
Fiendish powers dwelling inside
Awakened in a feverous implore
Darkness harkens souls to stay
When in an illuminating twilight
Subconscious turns ashen gray
Plants suffering a certain blight
Sleep had long not hypnotized
Nights, they pass in dry spells
No ravens come a tip tapping
Upon my mind's sly betrothal
Yet, the witching hour beckons
My brain has a way of knowing
Night, just half of it is passed
Rest half would be my undoing
Casey Jun 2020
Once upon a day of spring, while I thought, in the early morning,
Over many an empty and ignored notebook paper on my floor—
While I was writing, nothing shocking, there was a sudden knocking,
As of something frantically pounding, pounding at my chamber door.
“ ‘Tis the poet’s muse,” I uttered, “knocking at my chamber door—
I’ll let it in, nothing more.”

Ah, with sorrow I can recall how onto pages the words would fall,
And every phrase was brought to me from a tempest to the shore.
Eagerly I searched the sands;—digging for them with frenzied hands
I would find my poems, but I can—can never find them anymore—
For the wretched but beautiful language that was once my being’s core—
Beyond my reach, evermore.

And the symphony of a distant dirge filled me with a sudden urge,
Enthralled me—thrilled me with lavish courage felt certain times before;
So that now, in spite of what is real, I opened the door with zeal
And asked, “Muse, will I never heal? Am I destined to find empty shores?”
A buffoon was I, for nothing but a whisper far off from my door.
Quoth the whisper, “Evermore.”

“Be that word your leave, fake muse, you mirage!” I howled with grieve—
“Stay no longer in my presence, knock no longer on my door!”
But the whisper, the muse, remains still lurking outside causing me pain—
Incessant knocking, there’s no refrain—more papers strewn on the floor.
I plead with the muse, I beg it to take flight from my chamber door.
The muse just states, “Evermore.”
LA Assignment was to write a parody of Poe's poem "The Raven". Fair use and all that, I don't claim to own this since even though I did write it, not every phrase is original so therefore don't credit this to me.
Wilson May 2020
I did not despair when the crumbling path fed into muddy grass
And I do not despair when my walk in Jackson Park comes to pass
You can show me danker, darker, soaked in ****** evil roots
And I can show you higher, tougher, softer rubber boots

I did not despair when greeted by splotched grins in the maize
And I do not despair when my fears fill my fields with daze
You can burn my farm into blazing screams rising into razing sky
And I will seal my eyes to bask in heat that keeps me dry
In the style of Edgar Allen Poe
Naveen Kumar May 2020
I was all fine in every reason,
yet you wrecked me like I was none.
I'm still holding to my obsession
But you changed like a season.

Now it seems like a part of your theme.
When I'm still flowing in the stream,
how could you walk away with no esteem
like it was all one dream in a dream.
Last line inspired by one of my favorite poets.
"A dream within a dream"
By Edger Allen Poe
Al Grant May 2020
I couldn’t reciprocate what my heart has
been humming
— “I have been waiting for you my entire life”
For I am tired and at a discontent. Seeking solace
only from knowing that we are special and just apart,

But it catches on my throat like cotton,
And I know you’d be frightened.
As terrified as Poe to
when he trembles over the rapping,
rapping sound from the raven.
Murmuring: “darkness there and nothing more”
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