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Mimi Hachiko Jul 9
You’ve given no reason
For me to feel this way
But all reasons aside
You’re such a cliché
The cheerleader type
You run and you play
But I remember a time
Your type would betray
Your voice pitch is high
Your IQ count can’t match
I really can’t see why
You’re considered a catch
But maybe I’m petty
Or jealous, or insecure
I think I’m just ready
To be called particular
I don’t like your type
I don’t fancy to be friends
I don’t follow the hype
You give me the bends
Priyam Jun 26
I am my own enemy
Watering fresh dreams
With stale efforts

I am my own foe
Reaping the fruits of
The dead seeds I sow

I am my own rival
Dying of thirst
But trying to drown first

I am my own nemesis
A perpetual decadent
A fool, A pessimist
nick armbrister Feb 2018

Dave was his name and he plays rugby,

he wants to see you and share a drink with you.

Will that be all you share, as you see him every Thursday?

I know how these things work, two months as mates

“See you next Thursday Danna…” and then

you’re suddenly lovers.

He noticed me, the week before, needing to be with you.

Patience was his game and yourself was his cause

as he hatched his little plans.

Now he will think, when will she be mine?

I know it will work. All it takes is a little time.
nick armbrister Feb 2018

So we went out to see a film, with cars and music:

The Fast and The Furious. It’s like old times, you know,

Nick and Danna, when we had that thing.

Now the film ends and we go to your house,

reality hits home in the usual way.

The bloke you met sends you a text “Hello beautiful…”

and then I know it’s time to leave.

The trauma starts as I realise, this is it,

it’s finally over and I have to move on.
Chris Neilson Oct 2016
If you're as good as your last poem
then I'm a rampant rutting stag
but now on a mist shrouded hillside of heather
below a forbidding outcrop of crag

What's my reward and who are my rivals?
could it be a beautiful hind?
or contenders, trenders and Pretenders?
I do have a mind to like Chrissie Hynde
I'm fully aware this piece is as random as it is mad as a box of frogs
Running for his life, he made his courage known
Turning to try to turn the tide, his strong stance surely shown
Frowning upon the enemy face, he waited for the fight
pounding, stomping around the corner, his foe came into sight
...Questioning the crying kid...
he hug'd his brother tight
Jack Thompson May 2015
The passion of my heart.
Could wear the river rocks to dust.
Relentless like the tides of moons.

The passion of my heart.
Could travel any distance.
It knows no barrier like the fading Ozone.

The passion of my heart.
Could melt with invisible fire.
Like the polar ice caps.

The passion of my heart.
Could feed the hungry.
Full of Endless substance.

The passion of my heart.
Could be inconceivably large.
Rivaling the Sun and the stars.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Love Nov 2014
There’s nothing left to save.
The end has come.
Her elixir, eternal bliss
A nemesis of old
All the price of dalliance
ploratus, a latin word, roughly translates to cry

— The End —