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dead poet Dec 10
ready or not,
here i come.
count your blessings,
find the sum -
of all the tears
that’re due to flow
from a corner of your heart
you didn’t even know
existed before;
now open the door;
embrace your mortality -
let it purge your core
of all the notions
that vexed your spirit, and,
twisted your mind, well -
not anymore.

i’ve come to show you
the only way out;  
‘take it or leave it’ -
i’m leaving with you,
or without.
have you no clue  
how profound the disease is? -
it’ll take a while
to pick up the broken pieces.

sleep shall be but a
fleeting dream.
oh yes,
it’s a wicked scheme.
i’ve come to search your soul
like a sleuth;  

i’m your fateful reckoning -
your ******* moment of truth.
Everything is  conscious
and a moment lasts forever .

The sky is painted on
cardboard ,
stretched out by the hand
of God ,
while sawdust covered ground
moves on wheels to the Mouth of Infinity .

I can't remember my lines ,
but speak them anyway ,
A manuscript that has written itself .

Love , loneliness , ambition , pain ,
an **** of fireworks
on a dreamer's dark night .

While overhead , machinery
of the celestial stage begins
to shift .
ashw Feb 6
Within the rings of trees and layers of rocks
Lie countless hours - so many lost,
Time that was wasted, never regained,
Until regret and comeuppance were all that remained.
Laokos Jan 2021
i live in a brightness
of worlds
paper-thin

a screenshot of
malleability
introduces my reckoning

today, the serpent
lays hold of
the egg
and starvation
is kept at bay

belly full
cut the cord
the descendants
hang heavy

all my life i've wanted
a reason to
die well

tonight, I hear it
in the sirens...
I hear it
in the coyotes...
I hear it
in my soul...
tonight, I hear it
in plain sight--
as clear
as a daisy

i was allowed
to slow down

to see my life
in a different gear

to venture a guess
towards life in payment
of a different path

i was
hungry
and hung-up

i was held-up
with my pants
down

i was a man
living his life
in the modern
mouse-trap

and nobody
cares about the
man in the
modern
mouse-trap

forget about the
cheese...

find your way
own way
out
Mark Toney Jul 2020
Annual pilgrimage begins
thousands flocking to our doors
braving elements of chance
what does new year have in store?
As they enter our domains
obedient to adverts’ beckoning
is there hope for addled brains
as they face their day of reckoning?




© 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
7/26/2020 - Poetry form: Rhyme - © 2020 Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Badshah Khan Feb 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 20

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

No eternal matter, how you carefully write,

Sacred matter is precisely what you precisely write.

Every singular word will be reckoning.’

whatever you naturally write;

On the sacred day, you merely the one responsible.

Who precisely to tell the truth about your Sacred writings.

Oh Ummah Thurab, do not panic, about your Sacred writings

Who do they sincerely devote in eternal love, with his Beloved,

The Beloved, Himself will be precisely your mighty pen

To accurately describe about your eternal love,

towards Him through your profound sense!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
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