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Poetic T May 17
For he hurled  the stone,
                            casting it with anger...


And so the first sin was sewn..
                   For the wrath of another showed
that we were the picture of god,


If we were imperfect,
                then our creation was flawed
beyond the reflection of our birth.

The stone was never perfect but
                    flawed when created.
I am not a poised person
| Nor am I a delight to hear
| But I am a truth warrior
|a knight for deeper meaning
|and a contender for reality
|So I speak my restless mind
|on the matters that matter most
\ and for this I am sutured.
| my mouth sewn shut
| by the red and yellow tape;
|political correctness
/ diminishing the truth
|until nothing is ever said
|And I weep
. Silent tears
Let the truth be known
Poetic T Feb 2019
Are my eyes not sewn
To the vestagise's of
                                You.

Your words like songbirds
In mornings glory,
                     singing the awakening

                                           of ourselves..

We fly higher in dawns rising,
         and slumber in a nest of
                                            two,
                            when dusk falls beneath
                                                    our hearts.

Two feathers always gliding
            on the rhyme of loves wind.
And we soar for eternity
          as we are the breath beneath
                       each others yearnings.
Jessica Jarvis Aug 2018
Rainy days and dripping windows,
Once again, beside my pillow,
I lay upon my bed alone,
But in a place to me, unknown.

Day two, beyond the first “hello’s”,
Clouds still hover, and even billow,
They say goodbye to each of their own,
They thunder and sprinkle before heading on home.

After their hastened diminuendo,
Most clouds scatter among the fellow.
I compare to them to see how I’ve grown,
knowing rain brings a harvest from a seed that was sewn.
8/27/18
Poetic T Feb 2018
Un-enlightenment  was the trading
of collected ignorance that was sewn
on the eyes of so many individuals,
collecting in a mentality of blind illiteracy.

Detachment from the realities that were
shown before, but spectacles of onyx
kept them from seeing reality and all they
responded to was the illusion of there hearing.

Contagions were ingested within the falsity
of words collecting in mirages of there own.
But every consultation was a verse in reversed
wording collecting the meaning in other manners.
we can't comment
on my poems
we think
they
might get sad

now you
have
made
me mad

me
mad

whee
where
is my
spears
we must ****
that stench
here
hold my nostrils
while we wonder why
?


























...
..
.
don't fall in love
with
an
how she has woven me
far beyond rainbows hues
centering my center
stage attraction


was seen her spinning
dancing
on
enigmatic glass
making blue


thoughts
of
you
enigmatic
spinning blue


my magic carpet ride
enigmatic
spinning
blue
am
i


but an memory painted blue
you catch me in your thoughts spinning
my
sweet
enigmatic

i
love
yous
?






















­...
..
.
title words furnished by chance
or did we take on an form
of
wordstalker
hush me
...
sew
sew
sewn
sewing
stiches
stitched
to my sleeves
tears soaking
simplicity
magnify
times
me
in
i
find myself
me'ing me
perfectly
time hurdles another fence
passport in hand bus stop timed
frequently flown boot soles
composite toed mistletoe
kiss me rosey cheeks
love me dearly
love me
most
love
me
ghosts
learning to sew
?













...
..
.
Zero Nine Nov 2017
Once starshine
Once iodide

For years healing
You're done healing

You hard stop
You immolate

Every word
To ember but

You made a line of fuel right to me
that I will follow

I swore I'd
Sing should you **** me

Unless you
took my tongue with you

I see you
thought sealing my mouth
with stitches

Would drown my cries

We see
See how well that worked
Now don't we?
I've been a lot of people.
Taken many names.
And once again,
here I am.

Back.

It smells like home.
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