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Ylzm Jun 2022
from old unchanging darkly grasped
in story unfolding and the yet untold
but ear strays and heart schemes
the old unheard and story unchanging
the problem
with buying clothes
these days
is not knowing
if anything
will fit
properly
or even
suit you
until it arrives

instead
rather than
just return items
that i decide
i don't want
i hunt for
a loose thread
and pick at it;
first
with finger and nail
when that is not enough
next comes
a gnashing of teeth
and
if needs be
i am not above
brandishing scissor
or knife
to split the seam
gaping
wide
before complaining
that the item
is faulty

i am never proud
of myself
when i do it
there would be
no difficulty
in returning it
as unwanted
but
this way
i don't end up
paying postage
twice
Thomas Steyer Oct 2021
I went to sleep - then woke up at 1:23
And when again at 4:56 it looked like a scheme
Then again at 7:89 but that must have been a dream
Simon May 2021
"The Swindle", is a possible escape plan in order to divert attention completely away from the VAST majority of preying eyes!
"Why!?" And..."why now question it...?" Whatever the situation, you need to be wary of totally undivided attention...,since you are not alone...of an obvious disguise (upon an even more obvious "swindling" act).
"The Swindle", is a countermeasure towards shameful results (for oneself). That is...if your simply caught in the act...
leeaaun Mar 2021
erasing my existence,
to make a mark of your existence
isn't a permanent solution.
because those who are meant
to stay forever they won't
try to end up someone's life over this.
they know their value,
that's why they will wait
when you will create a hurdle for yourself
which you supposed it is for them.
they will think, you are gone forever.
but that forever is theirs end.
as when their breath will end,
karma will rise me up from the ashes
where i have been sleeping—
to live my life for eternity.
from the start, it was their lose.
so fool to understand the schemes of life.
fool will become a fool, of he will fool you
Ken Pepiton Jan 2021
Ein Bisschen
Un poco
an arbitrary bit of art as intuited.

Did you defy the order of life's proper
sequence, by knowing next begins after
the Hallelujah, right and proper,

that's the stopper.
There, dear reader, we pause and ponder,
as in
Selah.
Right and proper.

A bit off here, a bit from there, pack it into
a classical schema, which
was a word I learned after learning scheme
as the core concept used to form conspiracy,
you see,
if you were, in an immaterial sense, feeling
we are similar,
perhaps we are common, good thought of
as a type of person any mind may make up,
to tell a long and winding story as if it is
this one,
life,
life on earth, 2021.

After the changes, when we remove the masks,
we see others of my kind, mit **** sapience sapience-augmentated,
we be, in a greegri state
seeds of former
things informing
us, subjects  of all we know as good or evil,
good for us, not evil for me, once
enough is realized.

Realizing just enough to manifest a will to make good.
Aye, AI, there we have it.
Make up, test.
You bit, you chew, you bitchew. Life is fun, once,
for a little while.
Seventy or eighty years...
who knows how long our words remain.

schema (n.)plural schemata, 1796, in Kantian philosophy
("a product of the imagination intermediary between an image and a concept"),
from Greek skhema 
"figure, appearance, the nature of a thing,"
related to skhein "to get,"
and ekhein "to have, hold; be in a given state or condition,"
from PIE root *segh- "to hold."
Meaning "diagrammatic representation" is from 1890;
general sense of "hypothetical outline" is by 1939.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=schema>
Make fun when we find none. Then make sense, to see if it feels
right and proper, like art intent on making peace where only its memory was;
Matilda Nov 2020
Where is the Messiah?

Are you there God?

It’s me, your pariah.


I’ve become something of a liar,

a mystifier, a cad, a fraud:

Where is the Messiah?


To deliver from brimstone and fire?

Against the one wielding the iron rod?

It’s me your pariah,


son of the dawn, prince of the nebula

the gates of Judecca have thawed.

Where is the Messiah?


I’ll take silver, like Judas and Delilah

their feet are swift; to shed blood.  

It's me, your pariah.


Your ***** for hire,

Oh, how I await the flood.

Where is the Messiah?

It’s me your pariah.
Please Critique! I would love to improve!
Trefild Feb 2020
some words go US Eng, some go UK Eng
so inside the word-dividing "[ ]" is the chosen sound

KIND OF A WA[ɔ]LKING...
EMITTER OF ENDORPHINS
INNER-LIGHT-EVOKING
VAU[ɔ]LT WITH
A FORMi̲DABLY ENORMOUS
INFINITELY RISING RESERVE OF
THRILLINGLY PO[ɑ]SITIVE EMOTIONS (wa[ɒ]nt some?)
THE EPITOME OF DELIGHT & ENJOYMENT
——————————————————————————
strolling through some au[ɔ]tumn spo[ɑ]ts
sa[ɔ]w some gyals
being dolorous
stole up o[ɒ]n 'em
once I'm close enough
I'm exploding
with that mind-blowing stuff
I've noted 'bove
ba[ɔ]wling "lit morning, quit mourning"
so ear-splittingly like my ba[ɔ]lls just go[ɑ]t
torn apart
they, seemed to me, were in
total sho[ɑ]ck
unloading, giving 'em a[ɔ]ll I've go[ɑ]t
which got 'em a little overpa[ɑ]cked
each of 'em got a lethal cor atta[ɑ]ck
overdosed, they dro[ɑ]pped
on the ground like ja[ɔ]ws of cha[ɑ]ps
at the sight of girls with bo[ɑ]ds
that are smoking **[ɑ]t
——————————————————————————
ALSO, TRULY HOPEFUL
BORN WITH LO[ɑ]TS
OF OFFERS OF EMPLOYMENT
IN TERMS OF MOVING FORWARD
THE MOTION'S NOTHING LESS THAN HURTLING
ALWAYS, EVERY MOMENT
MAINTAIN THE FIRST PLACE
IN A LIST OF POTENTIAL BOYFRIENDS
FOR GIRLS THAT
ARE INDECENTLY GORGEOUS
AND UNBELIEVABLY JOYOUS
lyrically, these word-co[ɑ]mbs
come close to those o[ɑ]ps
a ***** does
[once was told that I have 0 SELF-IRONY]
Trefild Mar 2020
hardest party with floozies & saddo
wrathful wifey is choosing bolt cutter
**** gets naughty with ****** at brothel
problem youngin threw toolkit at father
wanton hottie is looking for lovers
step-son keeps eyeing good-looking step-mother
some ****-dropping is pooping on flower
punk's just gotten caboose-kicked by copper
dumbest blondies as students of Harvard/Oxford
Trump went shopping with Putin for armor
[oops, the last one is risky]
US Eng
Kai Mar 2019
The phoenix burned, once more returned, from fiery pyre aflame
With wings outstretched, soared o’er land wretch’d, seen, by the bird, as the same
old forests of past, which never could last 'gainst nature's violent outlashes
Yet in dreams surviving, defiant, and thriving; though the air still reeked of ashes

The scorching sunset cast its melting gold net o’er the equally, if not more scorched earth
Night's moon and day's star hung above the earth's scar; two eyes judging the wasteland's worth
They deemed it as decent, though the charring of recent corrupted their judgement in part
And through the cloud's pain, the celestial rain cascaded down to the wood's heart

The tears of the sky rinsed the aching dirt dry, and quenched its desperate dreams
The caked floor, satiated, filled up and inflated with life bursting at its seams
Beneath vanished leaves, under wire canopies, green shoots had begun to grow
The Phoenix, all seeing, saw the passionate being of the young plants below.

The forest will burn as time’s wheels turn, evermore reaching its end
Everything dies, yet The Phoenix still flies, watching all birthed again.
This is sort of a first draft...? I might rewrite the poem and make it better one day but at the moment it's also technically a finished poem.

I guess it's about humanity, sort of- with the Phoenix as humanity, burning the forest down itself and then blaming it on nature; then regaining inspiration as the world is reborn.

I liked the idea of the sun and the moon acting as eyes which weep when it rains, so I kept it in- for now, at least.
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