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Lyn-Purcell Oct 2020

Under the light of the moon,
my mind races as I chase its tail
The sweet taste of happy thoughts
soured by the bitter screeches of life

Everything seems to scuttle through the cracks,
jumping and voiding every lance of light
As the flowerheads bobbed in the hooting wind,
ever earnest and every more grateful

But I am voiceless. Agile I may be to skip and
stay keep my cloak of shade, the panic grows in
its fat and I can't stop hearing hums
For the warmth in me comes in waves

In flames that flicker and smoke my lungs without fear
As I race forward to find my tranquillity
so I can stop feeling so wild, to **** that feeling so fierce
And not face the light that will scorch me so


Been a while since I did a new form of poetry. This one is called a Nocturne - a free form poem that set at night. It has 16 lines in total and sometimes can come in 4 stanzas.

Not feeling 100% but I want to make use of what's going on in my mind,
which is a thousand things a second these days with anxiety burning very hot in me.

The more I remain lost in my head, the more the urge there is to escape it. Have you ever thought of the mistakes you have made, and feel like the worst person alive? Even though I am scared of being in the dark,
I fear the light more as it feels somewhat like a scope at times, y'know?

Especially in this day and age, so I suppose the symbolism of a rat scurrying in the dark is rather apt. But it is a cycle of thought I am trying to break,
The more I read about poetry and study it, the more I am both grateful for it...and in a way, heartbroken too. I feel like I need to trust my skills more, I suppose.

I'm still making the list for the Women of Myth series as I have some new ideas in mind. Maybe next year, I will take a short course on poetry as well.

It feels good to write free verses again, I'll admit.
I miss writing really long ones so I'll definitely go back to doing so.
Please stay safe and hale, everyone.
My regards to your families.
Have a wonderful day!
Be back soon with more.
Much love,
Lyn x
Pockets Aug 2020
The cat licks it's ***
While the mice run free
The menu music plays
For ratatouille on DVD
I’m to lazy to press play
I'd rather listen to django
And watch the cat lick it's ***
I wonder if any of the mice know how to cook if that's a
skill that can only be learned by rats

The menu loops again
Sabika Jun 2020
Pigs carry giant whips
and shoot bullets
and spray their spit
at bats.

Bats fly and bump into rats.
Rats claim they are cousins
yet eat some bats and
become poisonous in their speech.
Bats cry out that everyone can have
a slice of the freedom cake
take one piece each.

Rats are hungry
because there's a hole in their tummy
so they tell the pigs to steal the whole cake.
Bats bat their eyelids to the darkness
realizing their alliance
was fake.
There was this little rat who was fat
Nobody liked him, but I took him in
Gave him a little hat  
And named him Ironclad
"Ironclad the fat rat"

My cat Wiccan didn't like him much
At first, he thought he was lunch
But soon they became friends
True friends till the end
They ate together, bathed together
And killed together
Did pretty much whatever
My two little treasures.
He was a rat, she was a rat
down in one hole we did dwell
both were as pale as a witch's cat
they loved each other well.

He had a tail, she had a tail
both long and fine
each said 'yours is the finest tall
in the world, except for mine.'

He smelt the cheese, she smelt the cheese,
they both said it was good.
both remarked it would greatly add
to the taste of our daily food.

He went out, she went out,
I saw them go with pain
what happened to them i never can tell
for they never came back again.
Folorunsho Mike Iyanuoluwa
Asominate Mar 2020
Pop ‘em pillies
OD on my pellets, I know
It ain’t pretty:
Experienced, suicidal
Gotham city
All up in head I rave, yup
Desperate times
I will show you how bad I gave up

Shovel in my hands
I’m digging my own grave
You don’t understand
It’s too late to be saved
Falling for the trap
To be poisoned, no comment
There’s no turning back
Let’s pretend I’m a rodent

Pop ‘em pillies
Pop, pop
Pop ‘em pillies
Pillies
It ain’t pretty
The ways that I **** me
I’m my own pest control
And I dig my own grave
These are just one of the ways
To show you how bad I gave up
Got a couple of dark ones to post
Max Neumann Feb 2020
who are we? dead stars
victims of commercial wars
you'll find us in packed bars
lonely on a quest and drunk

it's the best place for us
cause we been fleeing the rat race
don't wanna be part of it
and yet we're all part of it

double standards lead our lifes
we're like you: lovers, husbands and wives
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