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Humaira lodhi Dec 2020
She has a vintage soul,
Full of rusty and dusty memories,
With the antique eyes
That seen some terrible events,
Her beauty reflects
the Victorian epoch,
Her wisdom is such sterling that
Vanquish the wisdom of Socrates,
But the fate and destiny
Leads her in the 21st century,
She feels like an alien
Who lives in a stranger place
But for her comfort in this world,
She has her books and a coffee mug.

–Humaira
Jonathan Moya Sep 2020
The clean church Christ
hangs on rusty nails,
dozen-fold years
denied a resurrection,
tied to everlasting
pain and death,
heaven denied,
mortal redemption denied
because the flesh,
existing between hope and despair,
refuses the soul’s release.

The congregation
is dead to peace,
only knowing the scrapping
of their knuckles on the smooth stone-
dead to the light,
seeing only the night,
dead to divine comprehension,
dead to the angels hiding
in their coarse crosses
of common wood.

Outside the lamb
bleats in the snow
wandering unheard
in the wilderness,
fearing slaughter
more than charity,
wandering far from
their muffled mouths,
wandering far from
their questioning,
wandering far from
their sense of things.
Traveler Jun 2020
Thomas W Case's
Tom Waits Challenge


She doesn’t represent me anymore
She’s agonizingly apathetic to the core
I live by myself out back in her barn
She can no longer do me any harm

Bedbugs and scratching mice
The bare necessities will suffice
I have no need for greed or misery
I have but one ex-wife

The old windmill has frozen gears
I haven’t tilled these grounds in years
I drink and drive my old beat up truck
To the bar to try my luck

Oh those gals
With sweet love swells
All a man can use
Drunken blind
And feeling fine
And I'm not afraid to lose!
................,,.
Traveler Tim
I'm tearing through all
Dimensions
And walls all over

This nightmare of a
**** bucket
I'm too smart to be

Held captive by you
Will beg me
For forgiveness one

Day I'll be back here
And smiling
You will **** your pants

With my fire fists aimed
At your small
Member you will be

Dust at my fingers
Your ashes
I'll tatoo into a

Kunekune I
Will raise to
Adulthood and then

Eat as a hot dog
And remember
How you ****** your pants

Begging for mercy
That I did
Not give mmm tasty
Firefist
...
Revenge
annh May 2019
Our names carved,
With a rusty penknife,
Into the bark of a random tree;
Just words on paper, really,
From me to you; and you to me.
‘I have an entire forest living inside me and you have carved your initials into every tree.’
- Pavana
underestimated Nov 2018
You will be safe as long as I'm here with you
You don't really need me, it's true
But I'm here
I'm not what you expect in a knight
I'm not charming
I'm not super strong
I'm not even that brave
My armor is old and rusty
My sword is broken
I don't even have a horse
But for you, I will fight
For you, I would die
For you, there is nothing I wouldn't do
I promise I'll keep you safe...
Danielle Jun 2018
Not myself,
Not with those wide staring eyes.
Staring through this wall of water,
Leaking from my attic spaces.
My brain leaks fears, like a rusty tin tap.
No, not myself.
Not with these thoughts or falling tears.
Depression sometimes makes you into someone you're not.
Sam Feb 2017
Here.
Have this.
It's a key.
But not just any key.
Maybe it's a little rusty, a little old, a little worn.
But it's yours.
And maybe sometimes if you hold it, it jabs into your hand,
But it's yours.
And maybe one day you'll lose that little key,
and you won't know where it went.
But don't worry.
This key is yours.
This key will always be yours.
Because this key, this small, old, rusty key,
is the key to my heart.
cait-cait Nov 2016
You pretend to zip your lips like
there's even a secret to spill,
as if i couldn't pry open
your mouth like a four
day old rusty paper-
clip
off an
empty
          manila
                     folder
i was so angry when i wrote this but now im so sad..,,,... christ this is a mess
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