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LC Apr 7
a person with a mind and soul
made of colorful, vivid ribbons
quietly walks through the world.
she expects to feel the warmth
of their smiles on her face.
their eyes softly crinkle
when they're with each other.
when they walk toward her,
they grimace - every single time.
their voices fade until
she can only hear the sound
of her loud breathing,
feel the chill in the air,
and blink the tears away.
#escapril day 6!
Ribbons of rains
A translucent sheet
Papery streamers
Down the streets

Children dream
Of castles and moats
To sail their
white paper boats

Yesterday’s flowers
Colour the pathway
For every passerby
As they take a final bow
It’s raining here :)
7th July
Give them no ribbons. My dear friend who was following orders in Vietnam
was blown to bits when he tripped a wire. Give him no ribbons. Ribbons and medals will not bring him back to his wife who is now in her mid-70s, whose two sons and one daughter each have families of their own, but have no Grandpa whose knee to sit on and play games with and just have fun and laugh with. Michael Dillinger went to Iraq to fight because W told him to. Unfortunately, his amored truck hit a road mine and killed Michael instantly.
Ribbons? They gave ribbons to Michael's mother before they buried Michael in Arlington? Ribbons, for God's sake! Did those ribbons and medals really help console Michael's mother? Did Cheney ever call her to see how she was doing? No, he was in charge of creating what he called "enhanced interrogation," a gross euphemism for unspeakable torture and terror that went on at countless, secret camps in the countries of our allies, and still goes on at Guantanamo even today. Give them no ribbons. Take all the ribbons and medals you can find that were given to those soldiers who gave their very lives for lies, for all those soldiers now lying in all the VA hospitals throughout our country, their bodies permanently disfigured, their minds completely lost, and dump that pile of ribbons and medals in the front yard of wherever W lives in the suburbs of Dallas.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet, a novelist, and a human-rights advocate his entire adult life.
sufyanahmed Jun 2019
All these ribbons and
I keep counting more,
Tied together in love.....
Every ribbon but yours....
Bartelo Damien Apr 2018
No paro de pensar

todo lo que pudo suceder,

todo lo que dejamos caer,

todo lo que pudimos ser.

Y en mi cabeza

mis visiones no tienen fin

Tus lazos me unen a ti.

Logro ver a través de ti,

porque no estás más aquí.
KM Hanslik Apr 2018
So much can happen under the guise of
I tie my heartstrings up like ribbons and
cut them lose one-by-one, hoping
they'll find a good home somewhere, hoping
I'll learn to not care where the pieces fall.

So much can happen under the guise of
I tell you tender things and you tell me I make the mornings lighter
but we all fall prey to our own demons sometimes,
and I'm not sure if mine ever really go away;
there used to be a fine line between
doing something because I want to
and doing something because I have to.
I used to walk that line every day, until
some of the ribbons began to break and I couldn't live with knowing
that I was breaking everyone else too.
Now when my feet start sliding from under me, I
call you and ask how you're doing, and you tell me that it's okay
now when I begin to question everything again, I try to stitch the pieces together in hopes
that it will be enough of something to hold me.
To hold us.
It's a bit tattered, but I think that it will be
Arcassin B Sep 2016
By Arcassin Burnham

See the images for what it's worth
In spite of everything you've face in you life time,
Replace every broken past with a blue ribbon to
Signify that the rest of your days
Will be fine,
Kiss each of yours angels on the cheek
For the luck you'll receive, for all the
Fallen brothers and mothers,
Then history will repeat,
Just place and tie a blue ribbon,

Constantly thinking of the right motives,
Writing down the waves
Of the rivers
While sitting in the garden imaging a
Better life,  a better outcome,
A chance to look back on everything
And change it,
But things just don't work out like that,

blue ribbon.
©ABPoetry 2016
cait-cait Jun 2016
Spoil me with

And fix my heart with
ribbon and tissue,
    All wrapped up
I don't lose the pieces

It's almost my birthday,

So Tell the little girl me
    the kids have just
woken up

And that the gifts are just
Broken and torn, and
    Opened... Already.

Just for me.
This poem is basically about how life has had it out for me since the moment I was born. Kinda a vague description but im too tired to care. My dad went to jail on father's day and now he wants to apologize to me like it will fix my < 2 decades of abuse. I have to move 3 ******* states away and I can't even bring my cat with me. Happy early birthday, cait-cait. Sorry for ranting I have no one else
Luna Craft Mar 2016
My relationship with life was as unhealthy as mine with death
I took them like pills, small doses each time
Never at once, I've always been told not to mix alcohol with antidepressants
Me and life lived like Romeo and Juliet
We only met in secret
Quiet smiles at stupid stuff, subtle and unsound
Death always took me away though
It carved my skin and tied me in red
Little red ribbons
Carved deep into my thighs, the wrist was too predictable
Again i'd try to be taken, my dearest start crossed lover
They'd bubble smiles across my lips
I wonder when they started to feel fake
TinyATuin Feb 2016
Our hearts are locked inside a ribbon cage
fluttering in silky chains
bleeding out in silent rage
spelling swears out in red stains

And right on cue the scissor-lady comes
to the rounds of applause and rolls of drums
snapping blades and leaving scars
cutting  ‘way the ribbon bars

She wears a belt of stolen rings
cut of the fingers of the old
long forgotten crownless kings
tarnish gold selling the truth retold

And right on cue the scissor-lady comes
to the rounds of applause and rolls of drums
snapping blades and leaving scars
cutting  ‘way the ribbon bars

Beware of the queen of hearts
dashing in next lave affair

And right on cue the scissor-lady comes
to the rounds of applause and rolls of drums
snapping blades and leaving stains
cutting  ‘way the pulsing veins
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