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Abigail Hobbs Apr 2018
And the crisp air
caressing her face
at the start of each new day
reminds her of the clean slate
she has
The fall begins,
the rejuvenation,
the fresh start.
11/15/17
triztessa Oct 2017
This is a cry of a person dissatisfied
the faint feeling of a blank stare stating:

Here I look upon the world,
to which I am dreadfully attached
I regret to love it so much
as I cling on harshly, gaping;
it is full of distaste and resentment.
I tried to see everything in it,
I have lived and saw life without grace
and sin devours envy controls hate
and men die holding their pride
and selfishness corrupted the soul.

It is without a doubt that I -
who swore to be free of the earth
withheld of freedom and deemed memory
a clean slate again.
Paul Jones Jan 2016
The storm has passed. Its     surrender was swift
as chalk wiped away     from a wet, slate board.
02/01/16
CastorPolydeuces Apr 2017
As I observe from my slate perch I can't help but wonder
if we're all meant to be old
or if some of us feel this discomfort in grown worlds
because we've passed our expiration date.
idk, nothing really, random ramblings of an unmedicated me
Àŧùl Sep 2016
To me, her love always was bitter-sweet,
More repulsively bitter than 'twas sweet,
Perhaps because I took her as my mate,
But she was like chalk on my life's slate,
Time rubbed her off & nothing remains,
To her I will truly wish the best of luck,
For she is attracted by the golden light.
May she not get disappointed.
I have finally accepted her departure.
Yes, it's like that only and I only wish the best for her all the time.

HP Poem #1161
©Atul Kaushal
Poetic T Jun 2016
Corroding at the essence of what had been,
leaves wilted scorched by the white.
It was but a far away moment now colliding
upon our onyx reality.

No thought of that which echoed in the distance
a difference to our perspective. but now absorbing
all that was delicate obsidian, eviscerating all
substance now bleached from known existence.

All we were was eroding away, flowers blossomed
but wilted upon the sight above, diluted our shadows
were not as they were. All that was will soon be but a
blank slate no longer the beauty that was obscurity.
Poetic T Jun 2015
In awe you gazed upon the blue ocean of sky,
And black spots like tears feel down.
Looking as they fell closer. impending needles
Upon the waiting flesh of unsuspecting
Mortals,
Vessels,
Victims
Unknowing of their own arrived fate,
As slender tears discarded from high
Above found flesh, and the quill did
Burrow as was consumed
A shadow remained of what had stained
On soft tissue,
Then the noise beckoned forth from those
Lacerated by feathers fallen like wailing
Tears from clear blue.
Squalls were heard as from impact, like black
Petals flowering from the seed,
Feathers,
Obsidian,
Shimmered
In the birth of darkness's creation
Talons where nails now clawing
Human remains away,
In insanities confusion of thoughts now
Between two worlds.
Clawed at those of human design,
Onyx greeted crimson and screams greeted suffering,
As all now tainted
On the flowering of slated feather
Birthed once again and the flock
Rejected,
Sight,
Humanities
Tainted plight, as all feather dressed in proper
Order did fly into the blue sky.

"Mummy,

"Yes dear, what is it,

As she pointed in to the vast blueness above their heads,

"I don't know baby,

"They look like black tears mummy,
*"Like tears from heaven,
Keah Jones Mar 2015
There are some things you can't refute
like how all babies are born with blue eyes
proving, even before they are born
they are trained in the beauty of taking their time
or how jam and jelly aren't the same thing
even though they are made of the same parts
or how someone will always be the second choice

There are some things that you cannot refute
like how your father left you
so you picked up the ax and taught yourself to be a man
swinging at trees and taking life into your own hands

It's not that these aren't simple truths
these are facts
things you cannot refute
like the way I feel when I look at you
Sombro Jan 2015
I hammer down the iron blue
And feel the stone in hills I threw
A giant's tome in slate is wrought
The dragon's breath is surely sought

And with the flame and grey hill soul
I toil to make my body whole
To giants time may not take lives
But our body falls in loose demise

I build myself an arm of slate
A slated cage will separate
My slate heart and my slate lungs
My life will lead from where begun.

These hills are home to more than me
Bees and deer and wolves at times
I look down at my forgèd limbs
And see the grass has grown there too.

I roam the fields, but find my feet
Are reluctant to leave the soil they meet
I sink to my knees and find that I
Am now the hill beneath the sky.

Millenia pass, my sleep is long
Until some years when something's wrong
Strange beasts have come with clever paws
To take my slate for homes and wars.

I slumber still, giants are slow to rise
But count my word true, and count it wise
'Fore long I'll rise and take it back
And your slate beast world will fade to black.
An environmentalist poem taken from Welsh myths. I didn't even mean for it to be environmentalist, but there you go.

— The End —