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Em 4d
Let's play a game
just you and I!
The rules you shall know
and I shall supply.

Cheating of course, is never fair
This game isn't hard at all,
you'll be running on air!

There's no way to lose
This game is for all!
For the old and big,
or for the young and small.

But how do you win this game,
you may ask.
Well that's a simple question really:
Just remove your mask!
im a ***-mer hahahaah help
I was once a rebel, She told me,
I ain't afraid if i was you,
I could burst my anger on my way,
Leave if you never ever feel belong,

I build up my rules, She told me...
Tired of being in the sameness,
Repeating the days i have...
So i leaved my world and became nowhere found....

But it made you lonely, I said,
Loneliness isn't what you think it is, She told me,
You lived with the crowd that made you feel alone,
You lived alone but you feel connections,

Would you break the cage? She said,
Come out from that shell, It makes you uncomfortable,
Trouble had cost you so much,
Its about time to cause some troubles,

I was once who followed the rules, She told me,
Afraid to commit a crime, Never dare to a consequences,
But what it cost me? It cost me a sad truth...
Life was never fair on me....


I was once afraid but i knew i can change,
She said with her shinning eyes,
She feels so alive after hiding in every town,
Drive away with that red Maserrati.....

She stops and give me her last word before she will gone for a long time,
I was once like you,
You should never be only in one soul as  always,
Once you can't deal with anyone, You will know....
Man
I want to live a life of sin
Full of women, money and gin
I'll do away with all the rules
And fill my fists with skin and jewels

I want to let go of my morality
Timid, apprehensive mentality
So that I can become a man
And live the only way I understand
Blue Sep 30
how have you not gone insane
when you pretend that you don’t feel pain

when you are supposed to take the same pill
everyday, same time,
when you have to submit your paper
before the deadline,
when you have to wear certain clothes
can't go against their dress-code,
when you are asked to speak your mind
but your words are confined
when your dollar only gets you so far,
but they tell you to reach for the stars
when they deny your application,
yet you have never gone on a vacation
when they try to reach out,
but they don’t want to be put out
when you stare off into space,
wondering what’s outside this place

how have i  not gone insane,
my minds a ******* hurricane
this poem is for whoever wonders how, even themselves have not gone crazy from the rules and standards made by society and the stoicism that we sometimes are confided in.
EP Robles Sep 26
"i" is Atlas holding up the World.  

  A permission granted by the writer
of letters.  

And 'i' never shrugs as it does not
have the writer's license to do so.

For if it did the mnemonic rule of
'i before E, except after C' could
not exist.

Weird!  <--very weird!

:: 09-26-2018 ::
strangeness of the English language and it's silly old rules! :P
Vener Sep 24
"my house, my rules"
your house, your rules
not ours, never ours.
patience
Persephone Sep 24
Turn their fate into fear
Dabble in the arts trickery
Shout out those who shout at others
And never leave your heart with another
rob kistner Sep 18
This is a sestina, written in protest of traditional poetry forms.
I wrote it in 1997, to a group prompt to write a sestina, when I was part of a juried online poet's community. We were assigned 6 words.
My words were: rain/dripping/emulation/trend/threat/violation

A sestina is a poem with six stanzas, of six lines, and a final triplet, with all stanzas having the same six words at the end of the lines, in six different sequences, that follow a fixed pattern. All six words must appear in the closing triplet. The fixed pattern of the stanzas is:
a,b,c,d,e,f - f,a,e,b,d,c - c,f,d,a,b,e - e,c,b,f,a,d - d,e,a,c,f,b - b,d,f,e,c,a
The pattern for the ending triplet, called the envoi, is:
a,c,e

Here is my ironic protest of traditional poetry form, :-) written (very tongue-in-cheek) in the traditional poetry form of the sestina. This is:

CRUEL STRUCTURE
_

this poet's soul is drowning in this rain
heart, mind, and spirit freely dripping
pursuing a verse of sestinal emulation
for me this storm of six's will never trend
it is a soul-debilitating stifling threat
its affect upon free-thinking — a violation

repressive is this cruel violation
turns my poet's soul cold as freezing rain
my promise to rebel is not just threat
I’ll douse this form in oil until it’s dripping
then torch this poetic horror to start a trend
hoping all poets will do the same in emulation

bards unite, embrace this pyro-emulation
enlightened poets strike down this creative violation
full freedom of expression must be the trend
rise up against conformity's bitter rain
no matter if your storm-tossed, drowned and dripping
it's imperative we squelch this awful threat

lovers of structure do not grasp this tacit threat
they will not join our valiant ranks in emulation
their writer’s spirit grows weak — its lifeblood dripping
but I’ll stand strong and resist this violation
so let the rules and regulations fall like rain
our move to free unfettered voice be the next trend

a powerful and forward moving trend
that will thwart this fascist literary threat
and bring those, that see the light, in from the rain
to take up our cause in knowing emulation
to unite against this creative violation
that would have us on our knees — tears dripping

formless verse is sweet and rich as honey dripping
an uplifting and most liberating trend
true voice freely spoken is no violation
emancipating poets is not a threat
take up you pens in joyful emulation
and clear the poetry skies of drowning rain

this regressive trend, towards mindless structure - cold as rain
unbound expression's not violation, it's freedom's emulation
unencumbered verse is sweet nectar dripping, not a threat

_


rob kistner © 1997
I am sending this sestina because I've been under the weather for a bit, and am feeling cantankerous. So I wanted to rant about something. I dug up this old poem, so in a very classic form, I have chosen to rant about my feelings regarding traditional poetry forms. Felt an appropriate fir HePo.
Anya Sep 9
Don’t cross the yellow line
She says
I do just that

Look in ALL the mirrors before reversing
She rehashes
I glance at one

Put on a signal before you turn
She insists
I turn without a pause

Full stop at the stop sign
She stresses
I slow down a fraction

Be careful with right turns
She warns
I nearly crash a curb

What will it take you to ever heed me???!
She demands in hopelessness

A week later, there’s an accident on 74th street
She gets her answer.
wordvango Aug 24
Taking charge when our congress won't.
watch Rachel Maddow's latest episode-"New Cohen subpoena could mean new legal trouble for Trump family"
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