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Johnny walker Jan 16
When first I met my
sweetheart It was If
she reached Inside
me and tied a ribbon
of light around my
That where once a
heart so dark did beat
she shone a light so
bright that's dimmed
since she's been
She reached In and placed  Ribbon light  around my heart that shone so bright but then dimmed when she passed away
Mind Matterer Oct 2018
It’s like a drug
-except that it doesn’t come in a little orange box
Or in the shape of a little white pill,
But rather through a shiny, sleek, sharp blade
That grazes over your skin
Just like a red ribbon swaying in the wind.
Solaces Oct 2018
Above the passing clouds the stars were moving..
As they would pass by they would sometimes split and travel to another dream..
We were watching this from my Grandmothers backyard in the past..
The night was cool and the grass was soft with a touch almost as cold as rain..
The stars became lights on a massive vessel that passed by in the past of my dreams..
My Dog Prince then came to me..
He has been dead for 24 years..
But he was there laying beside me in the cool dream grass..
The star vessel had no sound..
It was almost as if it was floating by like a massive balloon..
The ship left behind a streak of glowing rainbow ribbon in the night sky..
It slowly faded away into the now starless black sky..
My dog Prince was gone too..
I was now in the present awake in my bed...
Departure for heaven..
MawaLin Sep 2018
she is your silken stream of thought
a delicate knot braided firmly
around your side
never to be united

"she was made from your rib"
"she was made from your rib"
Elk Öberg Jul 2018
Flesh is stripped away in grisly ribbons,
It wraps around their mouths— suffocating.
Twisted into the red string of fate,
It ties stone crosses
To the backs of martyrs,
And crowns their skulls with poppies.
Still, the rook will crow,
And thick blood runs in opaque veils
Down the innocent’s face.

The ribbon floats back home,
Washed up on English rocks,
Where the lover, the friend, and the family member,
Allow it to curl around their littlest finger.
Their tears join the sea.
Danielle May 2018
What happened?
To that fragile moment we held tight in our heats?
Red glorious ribbons of Fate.
The quiet comfort of long nights
Pulled apart, worn by age,
In which we talked.
They lie dirtied on the ground.
Till Dawn whispered to the stars,
As they left, her tears washed it all away.
I forget where the idea of red ribbons came from, but I enjoy the idea of people being romantically linked by them. But when it falls apart that's where the imagery can really come alive in a way.
E McNamara Mar 2018
I was tied like a ribbon.
Tied to a silver coin
I followed it everywhere
It was survival

They tell you to do what you love,
But who is financing my dreams?
I only see one decision.
The silver coin.

The ribbon slowly tightening
Around my neck,
Starting to choke the choices
Out of me.

They tell you to do what you love,
But they only mean
The dreams that collect silver coins.
The dreams that fix massive dept.

So what am I to do?
My dusty pockets
And love of art
Leaving me at a crossroad.

I wish for a different world.
Where achieving your dreams
Wasn't a fantasy,
And I could paint words for a lifetime.
How on earth do I become who I want to be?
Vyiirt'aan Dec 2017
Predatory traces remain amongst the spread soot
The ashes that bore the incentive of a smile
A lonely ribbon flew along the scene - it was caught;
Grasped by the canids of a desperate pastime.

"Papa, can you hear me?"
"I will be holding the candles today"
"You have returned at last..."
"... but why did you leave again?"

Muffled screams, stinging pain, faint echoing of what remains,
The vitality that lingered in the sun,
Disappeared, in its stern gleam.

Trails of anguish resonate through the field, a grand feast
Clotted tufts, sent with grief, are held and spread over the field
My dearest father,
When the light shone down and revealed its deceit,
A realm that struck me headfirst, belittling me,
As you dance with the wind, I cry for an eternity.

The hounds of decay sing a melody, so daunting, intimidating tones
In deafening ecstasy, the games the shepherds play,
The ceasing of a prosperous juvenescence, killing feisty innocence.

In a loud cascade, the scenery deteriorates
Lush wisps of fire, dulled petals flourish in the wind
Dim embers, odoriferous leaves that dwindle amongst the feet
In anger they remained at the efflorescent poppies
The putrid grave that yielded

The warmth of the snow felt enticing, exciting
The numbed senses within the blank slate.

"I will be home tonight"
"Crying in the darkness"
"For my dearest smile..."

"... exists no more."

This poem is to be read after "Homecoming, incorporeal oath".

anger games loud pain sing vitality eternity smile papa ribbon
Alec Dec 2017
I have a red ribbon.
I like my red ribbon.
It’s tied in knots.
I’ve never been good at making bows.
It’s a nice color red.
It’s a pretty ribbon.

It’s my ribbon.
I don’t want to share my ribbon.
My ribbon keeps me safe.
My ribbon says “no don’t do that today.”
I listen to my ribbon.
My ribbon is hidden.
No one else knows it’s there.
But i know.
And my ribbon knows.
And that’s all who needs to know.

Someone might think it’s weird.
That i have my red ribbon.
And that my red ribbon has me.
But as long as i wear short sleeves no one should see.
My red ribbon goes across my red scars.
But my red scars are not pretty.
Not like my red ribbon.
I’d rather have my pretty red ribbon than my not-so-pretty red scars.

I like looking at my ribbon.
I like admiring it.
My red ribbon is all mine.
And it helps me to be good.
I always make sure my red ribbon is in the right place.
I don’t want anyone to see and take my red ribbon away from me.
My red ribbon and i like each other.
We keep each other semi-sane.

My red ribbon makes me calm.
It squeezes just enough to put my mind at ease,
Without actually hurting me.
It’s like a friendly squeeze.
That says “I’m all you need, and I’m here.”
And it makes me feel safe sane and sound.
Without my red ribbon I’d be lost until it was found.

I like my red ribbon.
My red ribbon looks like a pretty scar.
And it squeezes instead of stinging.
My red ribbon likes me.
I tie it up in cute little knots.
And give it a place to stay.
Instead of being forgotten in the trash.
I need my red ribbon.
My red ribbon needs me.
ryn Aug 2017
Captured by a fence,
carried by the wind.
Helpless yet steadfast.
Strong yet graceful.

Almost billowing like a flag.
Celebrating triumph
amidst a sea of losses and destruction.

A stark reminder of what used to belong.
Of better times where colours were abundant.
And people loved better...

This crimson red...
Now only flails,
hard as it can afford.
Entangled by a lone barb.

Caught firmly in place but
forever fighting the oppressor that holds.
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