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Efa Nuryani Jun 2019
The room was dim, with a little spark of shady blue
Though she could sense the catastrophe prying, she laid herself down there, dully
Her inclination of the prejudice
Left her, drained
Foreseeing a vast ultimate chaos
To an undeniable disastrous end


The night had been too long.
Arthur Habsburg Apr 2019
In the midst of thoughtless sand
Just off the coastal road
Where systematic palm trees
Provide just about the only distraction,
Ronnie runs a run down hotel
There in the gulf of Aqaba.
He knows his job well,
He's letting the place cool down a little.
He often sleeps in the day, at reception,
And he's got a glass eye that doesn't blink,
You can book yourself in for one night only
Unless Ronnie has know you,
Has seen you before,
Someplace shady, perhaps,
For it is said that,
Ronnie's tanned for several lifetimes..
Stay a night and
He'll treat you well,
For he's always up for a drink
And his pocket holds more than one light,
He says he used to be Egyptian royalty,
But now he's got his own cabin here
A bit out of sight.
But that's not where he keeps his things..
His cupboards are blank
And his blinds are eternally drunk,
They never come up.
He says he's known this bunk a while,
About the time fame went  aside
And the rain got into the swimming pool,
And now  you can watch it bloom with niffy pride.
And so half a bottle goes
And midnight it arrives,
And Ronnie sits you down in his dimly lit back room
And begins to tell you about the kind of people he can find:
Those who want to bring you luck,
Other who'd sell you gold at half the price,
No muck,
You may shrug
As he claims to know where the good times dock
And the bad times kept at bay,
And though he admits that he never had a close shave
You notice a scar on his cheek.
He was a minion in the spice trade
Before that war in Mozambique,
A model soldier he was
Credulous & meek and
Conveniently stupid,
So he raged and looted
And his ***** got him booted
To sunny California,
Where he got Cupid tattooed on his upper arm,
He drank with philanthropic truckers
Smoked with greedy hippies,
And he still wears these bracelets
That look like the end of a shredded sleeve
And a pinched fedora
that had its ex head murdered,
It was down town LA that instilled in him a feel
For rough bourbon
And sweeter-than-perfect promises,
He says he'd known love
Real love too,
And sank with it
Bottomless.
He watched dreams become skeletons
And skeletons become dreams
In the cities that took shape of parodies of yore
Upswept.
You notice that he's got almost no nails left,
But he swears he never stole
And he never wept
He says he begged in his bead,
But his pleas weren't quite potent enough
His visions too misty to get handcuffed
And put to work,
So he scuffed for joy
In the midnight murk
And morning slumbers,
Safety in lascivious female numbers,
Action in cursed bottles & pills,
Castrated wonders & faceless thrills that meant nothing but fills
Merging into chaos
He was disappearing fast,
Diving towards greater liberty of thought and speech,
Skedaddling from basic options,
Throttling in gaudy plastic oceans,
Without a map, without an anchor,
He says he finished school with rancour,
The only thing he took to end..
He takes a swig before he brags
That even death might overlook his self
Eventually..
Potentially, maybe,
But you know for a fact that actually,
He's 16 years to live and that is it.
And 4 years after that nobody will remember ****.
And when you tell him that,
the morning comes,
But he doesn't **** or argue,
He smiles, puts up his thumb
And calls it a fair bargain.
Gods1son Mar 2019
The human heart is undeniably
A very deep place
What you see appearing on the surface
Is not necessarily the same as what is hiding beneath

What you see on the surface of some is beautiful flowers
But beneath those are roaches and spiders
Or the other way around
Who really knows the true intentions of the heart?
Esther Jan 2019
we're both preceded by our reputation

we want the sun in our face

only to turn our backs to kiss the shadows.
this ain't for the best
my reputation's never been worse, so
you must like me for me.
Sueño Oct 2018
You dig my style
I like your sass,
You say that I make you laugh
Let’s go back
Have a few
I’ll show you things I want to do

Kick back relax
I know your kind
Make me forget my racing mind
I’ve got a couple things to try
Let’s bring it back until youremine

She asked me why’d you cut your hair
I told her don’t worry my dear.
She Kept on bothering.
Okay well you see,
Now People aren’t so afraid of me .  

Not going to stutter
You are my cover
Just one night if I get it right
Just stay and see some morning light

Yeah I got a little attitude
Its just I wasn’t that in tune
Now I see what I can do
People are always tangible

It’s just a cloak
it’s just a show
How many of you
Would try this ‘bro’
But not before
Maybe I wasn’t sure.
Let’s just say we’ll have some more
Song in progress
People really judge you on how you look
Not what’s inside
It’s okay though I’m a good experiment
Nylee Dec 2017
Dark morning,                    
      where was the sun looking?
Shady start,                        
I spent the day brooding.
Nylee Nov 2017
My paranoia is creative
every shift is a conspiracy
the people in room are shady
more than me.
Every move calculated
next step already decided
talk and act contrasts
atmosphere still polite
and the wait, the action
just about to begin.
Already losing all the wins
the repeated scenes
and the little things
all noted down
every second
another round.
In hushed hushed tone
in the far background
the secret is already out
and every mind reading the doubt
digging for more than what is.
And the dramatic music
ends it all.
K Balachandran Oct 2017
He stealthily usurped his favourite poet's celebrated pen
Strove  hard to write  with a footing on the poet's ken.
In what resulted, others could only see an overriding  yen
recognized patently as his; in this shady  game he didn't win!
Amanda Shelton Jul 2017
Never trust a rose,
they might seem pretty;
until they ***** you with their thorns.
______

You might like it
if I were shady like you.
Maybe then you won’t judge me
like you do.

Though that doesn’t change
who I am,
not unless I choose
to be shady like you.

Though I would rather be a daisy,
then a rose with a ****** stem.

The roses can’t make up their minds,
do they like the sunshine
or the shade?

I want freedom to grow
wherever I plant my roots.

I don’t care about being trimmed
or proper in the end.

Let my stem grow tall
and my roots grow deeper in,
so that I can become stronger
still and support my friends.

That’s all.

© 2017 Amanda D Shelton
Racquel Davis Jul 2014
In short: you're a protist.

©Copyright 2014 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis
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