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Čortoloman Sep 2021
Twice think "once", brass pipe and hollow doubt.
Deformed perfection, a sick selection.

A frustrating situation, to be seen blind.
Blinded, unaware.

How can a howl be howled, heard to feel.
Am I fear if I produce it in others, Or just afraid?

Fight, fought, scream! I thought.
But a brass pipe of hollow doubt sleeps thrice.

Once when it wakes, and twice when it lays.
Do I be see or EFG?
Ken Pepiton Mar 2021
An old boy's philosophy, ambles up
arrow in one hand,
strung bow in the other…

Aim at nothing,
you cannot miss.

I watch this idea, nothing more, no thing,
a thought…

nock the shaft, draw back the bow,
but
not as I expected, not
as I saw ahead, not
aiming at the skies, outmost limit…
no,
this arrow aimed at me.
Or was it you?

Mustabin you, or nothing, as intended,
I was aiming at nothing,
to prove I could still hit it as easily as once,
when I was young,
and at the brink… of next, laughing
The joy of an outlet, for a dammed river, desert river, wide, and mostly dry
but for these thousand year winters that are so rare...
AditiKo May 2020
Kept working
Sweating and renewing
And carefully weaving
My thoughts through the world
And I realise
That I didn't like it.

Frustrating
Venting and pounding
Failed art
Broken heart
All cleared away
Click
Delete.

And that's some space
For another tone, a face
Start afresh the next day.
There are only so many tries before you make it. Do the math people
Scorpius Sep 2018
I watch him
Emerge,
Over days,
With cracks
And tears,
His new skin
Cranky
And thin.
And I recognize
An old fear
Shimmer through
One iris
Then the next.
And I see him
See me
Watching and waiting,
And I wonder
How many chances
We’ll get.
D Jul 2018
i wish i could do it over
age slower

get a chance to do it all right
i made a lot of stupid mistakes that make it harder to live now
Julian Delia Jul 2018
This violent sadness,
A self-devouring source of madness.
It is an Atlantean endeavour,
It is pure, jaw-dropping terror.
It is this dense weight that I carry -
Snap out of it, hurry, do not tarry,
For my shoulders quiver
And my nerves grow tired and bitter.

Please, hurry;
Wake the **** up.
We don’t have much time,
And up to the mountain’s peak
I wish to climb.
Do not delay;
Every moment wasted
Is an inch further towards necrotic decay.

Why could you never understand?
Why did you never want to cross into uncharted land?
Why the need to cocoon in one place?
Why did you resort to making me hate my own face?
This road, this journey that is life -
I will live it on the edge of a knife,
In between the worlds of peace and strife.
With the soles of my feet,
I shall run on burning coals, exposed to heat.
Within the corridors of my heart,
I will host freedom as my eternal mistress,
And make my life her work of art.

A sun that never quite rises,
After all this, I feel like a discoloured iris,
Like a struggling butterfly,
One that does not want to die,
But does not want to live, either.
I don’t know
Whether you’re lying to yourself or me,
But all I know is that of these hateful chains
I wish to be free.

I will now walk alone, towards the balcony,
Ready to jump and spread my wings;
I wish to fly alone,
For the skies have no queens nor kings.
I am who I am,
A soul, permanently on the lam
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
'Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.' - Ernest Hemingway
Andres Martinez Jul 2018
Relive the moment
Re-read The history
Repent from the past
Reiterate the words
Rethink the logic
Remember the hardships
Restrain The inscurites
Rewrite The map
Retype the joy
Reassure the foundation
Recite the goals
Re-do the next day
melanie Mar 2018
I watched the smoke rise in the distance
& knew
That what we had once built together
was now gone forever.
Leaving mere ash & rubble in place of the facade of harmony.

I couldn't help but smile.
All my lies
All my heartache
Gone with the the gentle breeze of morning.

Today I start anew.
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