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Traveler Dec 2020
I am music
the cadence of soul
beat box of rhythm
lyrical poems
I am music
the inertia of dance
primitive passion
arising romance

I am music
of both hemispheres
intuitive and sensing
perception unaware
emotion in motion
routed in love
I am below
sent from above

I am music
I am love
Please never give me up!
Traveler Tim
Ilya Krivonosov Mar 2019
Glass, plane,
Dim lights?
My timidity
Crumbled into vinaigrette.

Why money?
Why the wall?
Why circle
The perimeter is not equal?

Why teeth
Fangs down?
Why a cube
The ninth wave hung?
A M Ryder Feb 2019
I am stone
I do not move

I take my time
I let him come closer

I have only a single bullet
I aim for his eye

I hold my breath
My finger presses on the trigger
I do not tremble

I have no fear
human being
running through forest
growing in your amazement
learning to distinguish cure from poison
what happened down the way
where did you lose your
sense of magic
when did it
Me man,
Me strong,
Me work you all night long.

Me no fear,
Me not queer,
Me is primal
Me is....

Argh, no WIFI!!
Nicholas Fogle Jun 2015
You ever want to get primal?
You ever want to get loose?
Become cut throat  and cut throats,
go back to the time of sacrificing lambs and goats.
That's the urge.
That's the instinct.
Savagery in a instant.
Sharpen teeth and sharpen claws go back to four legged paws.
We praise violence in the ring
on media of trivial things
but war ,
it's rejected, reflected as an act evil
what minds they have so feeble,
the thoughts of civilized people
Joseph D May 2015
The rush
Coursing through precise veins
Person turned personification
Slave to your own chains

The push
Over the edge of our personal cage
Don't look down on me
Unable to change locked on stage

Hormones, emotions
Ecstatic pleasure, boiling rage
My own whips
My own pains

Reflection of the ugly
Pushed forth on the style I scratch into existence
My poem, my self, both primitive
Art and I kept at subsistent distance
maggie W Apr 2014
Mr.Strickland reminds me of you.
If I were Blanche, I would do what she did too.
Like a sophisticated beast
Howling in the territory of yours
So primitive and so civilized.
In a cocoon weaved of solitude
Poor Blanche throws herself in the abyss
Swoon over your charm,
But you are lured by the Moon.

— The End —