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pandemoniac Mar 27
Abandon definitions.

They are abbreviations of something abstract, abundant alive.

I am an admirer, an adaptation

an affiliate of things
antique and alien,

And who are you?

An anthology of secrets
An aggregate of emotion.

We are an allegory of nothing and all things

An affinity for the absurd
An animosity for analysis.
[my writing prompt was to write a poem using as many letters starting with "a" as possible]
Bard Oct 2020
Thousand bullets a second call me Trigger-Tron
Heaters out can't cool it I'm on a ****** marathon
Wanted posters dead or alive the names Trigger, Tron
Rode off into sunsets with twin lead trails drawn

Saddle up go round an round I been outta town
Makin ghost towns when I do my rounds
Addled up go round for round then head outta town
Souls wander I put em in the lost an found

Money bags with the big $ just a lil' bank robbery
Heavy saddle bags ridin out with all I can carry
Money bags with the big $ just a lil' train robbery
Heavy saddle bags rode out with all I could carry

Thousand bullets a second they call me Trigger-Tron
Heaters on fire I ****** in marathons
Wanted posters out name on the bounty, Trigger-Tron
I ride into the sunset with twin lead trails drawn

The young Billy with the Iron "I'll make ya famous"
Rustlin jimmys sheriff and posse never catch us
Billy draws the big Iron "I'll make ya famous"
Rustlin Jimmys with the iron in *******

The sheriff and his posse after my bounty
If they wanna hound me I'm your huckleberry
Sheriff and posse, lotta bodys dead in the county
Fresh tombstones last count was about twenty

Hounds down like old yeller guns sure like to holler
Winds down at night retire the dual death dealers
Coyotes creep towards the fire start up a holler
From bush an ambush a few more dead 'fellers

Hands quicker than rattle snakes draw an fire
Leads flyin hills rattle an shake guess its war
Outlaws firin shells sounds like a two pair
My hands five aces four shots they fold for sure

Then I ride off into the sunset with twin lead trails drawn
kaehaniya Aug 2020
if my heart was made of stone,
would i feel not so alone?
"heart made of glass, my mind of stone."
- billie eilish + khalid // lovely
Charlie Rose Jul 2020
The sun has risen
Stomach growling skin itching
I can't feel a thing         Number 25
Zia Jun 2020
A river of sins
coursing in my veins
you’re slowly
under my skin
Your hands
the firing pin
I beg
up to my chin
to release me
oh! my king
‘fore the
swallows me
Zack Apr 2020
Me: What's so hard about the first line?
Also Me: There's nothing difficult at all! It's just like baking a cake.
M: In what way, would you say, this is at all like baking a cake?
A M: Cakes, in a way, are a composition. They can come in a variety of flavors, from mundane munchies to extravagant favors.
M: You comic, that's pretty much everything in life; are you hoping to seem as if somehow you're wise?
A M: Before the first pour, a whisk or a spoon or something more, one must consider intention, constitution, and culinary inspiration.
M: it's a cake, that you bake, where the flour is the base, sugar the taste, and colors meant to decorate.
A M: No need to simplify, I ask that you rectify your pompous pontification.
Myself: writing, baking, what does it matter. We write, we bake, that's all that matters.
a writing exercise
A Alexander Jun 2019
I don’t see many on here but I’d like to start the chain if others are interested in chiming in on this too!!
First prompt-sunshine! Love to hear from you lovely writers!
Share your ideas with hashtag prompts!! ;)
Here’s my 10 w
Eyes are closed but I can see the golden glow
Don’t be shy
Amtul Hajra Mar 2019
I pull the sheets over my head,
There's darkness around.
And suddenly it feels home.
Darkness perceives of what I've been longing for,
It's where i belong.
Where I'm not fearful.
Where nothing can harm me,
Solely, because I'm the only harm here.
A harm so murk,
That grasps every body it gets close to,
And persecutes it,
To demise.
There's no getting back,
There's no forgetting.
It keeps me awake,
The inquity.
It sweetly toxins me,
And I'm off to a deep sleep.
At whatever time,
I get pulled back;
Im prompted,
Prompted of all the gloaming mystic.
And I'm inescapable,
Of all the despair.
Im excessively unaware
Of all the agony it beholds.
That being,
A reckless pair.
But faithful.
But flawed.
But shambled.
Too much to complicate the shade,
Too little to interpret hell.
Does this bring me tranquility?
Why does this bring me back home?
Gale L Mccoy Feb 2019
Unpack the worst thing that has ever been said to you, what in their life made them treat you this way? - a prompt given from jillian rabideau's writing live stream

"she's never going to change. she'll never learn"
my mother's eyes on me
stone sea blue-gray and staring right through
i fled round the corner into my room

another round of the same words-the same eyes
the same ways-every goddess ****** day
and that scream
this woman, so hysterical
didn't recognize her child that night
she saw a mirror she couldn't smash
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