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Jude Rogers Sep 12
Hello.
It's
Been a.
While. But
           I
           Am
             Glad
to be here
                           again.
I am sorry if my use of.
Incorrectly placed                         periods
and
       strange
spacing is weirding you.
Out. I                                 apologize.
But.
As long as I am doing this strange form of
      writing
I think i'll be
                     content.
11!for a day speak like gman from half life O_O (flushed emoji) ecks dee !!!
Francie Lynch May 10
Who dares enjoy your gold with you?
What good is it Midas? It's contaminated.
When will you, if ever, enjoy it again?
Where is your preferred seating now?
Why persist with your follies? Don't touch me.
There are no shows, theaters, arenas, ports of call, restaurants, flights, etc., where the rich can spend their gold. And anyone who makes a profit out of our misery, may they have the Midas Touch.
Listen carefully

It may deceive
Being novel
For the reasons unknown
Corona is contagious

Stay
Ahead of it
Or behind
Spacing in between

Trust me
You will be safe
Survivor's guide
The way it is

Okay?
Genre: Clinical
Theme: Influenza
Clinical Note: Stay cautious, whom to keep distance, whom to get close.
The old immor(t)al wound
                                  He tak
                                  es a
                                  gil
                                  den
                                  ro
                                  d
                             mouthful
                       Unaware of ichor
                     Power. Deceit. Malice.
                 co      urs    es  thro    ug
                 h                  h  is         v
                  e                  i             n
                                                    s

                 and  bleeds  onto  his w
                                                (abh)or
                                                     (go)ld
sorry if it looks weird on mobile.
Devoted to your second hand
Your  electrifying
Admonishment   your   embrace   solidifying
a    swirling    technicolor    land
                                                                            (move)
Meant along your path engroove,
bring
          error receiver much to be desired
just a bit of inspiration. tried for some cummingsesque spacing imagery; wasn't in the mood for a traditional sonnet. i included a bit of wordplay, so have fun picking them out. and yes, on line 2 I intentionally used that form of "your."
Mike A Eyslee Jan 31
Since feeling is first, and syntax is lies,
To enscribe you, my darling little jay,
I would have to ask, "Is there any way?"
Not of mimsy guise and anything-dyes,

But of nоnce-nonsense and everything-sighs,
Keep these thoughts pastiche on a wayward bay,
And perhaps leave them, removed on display,
Entirely altogether?

You are this fool's  ". . ."
". . ." as  '. . .' but  ". . ."
Lea ve me ". . ." on, a . . .

A skip!         for,
". . .   &      . . ."    "can"t; f o r get
(love ". . .") and you,
". . ."
inspired by some cummings (as evident by the spacing and the obvious allusion to his work, "since feeling is first"). also, "Jabberwocky" for the nоnce word. sonnets are annoying to write.
RedBerry Dec 2019
I hear you talk,
I see your lips moving.
The shape of your mouth forming letters after letters.

I smile and agree.
Eyes crinkle with mirth,
My voice booms in the space between us and the silence of the universe.

I see you,
I hear you,
But do I really?

I'm there, but I'm not.
I feel, but I don't.
I smile, when I feel pain
And I talk when I'm not sure what to say.

It's not me you're talking to,
But my body responding to you,
Like an autopilot.
#i didn't intend to publish this. But here you go...*awkward silence*#. #autopiltot
Vyiirt'aan Dec 2017
A blanket of
fractures,

ample rigid structures

A liquid
               s
                e
                 e
                  p
                   s

             the   t   cold
                     r
        frigid   o   fragments
                    u
                    g
           ­   of   h   the

                 north


Where tufts gather in the sherbet of -frozen- dust

The glistening indigo amongst
the platinum
blanket

I shiver.

The cutting
wind

admires the empty
shell

for I stood
there

Gazing at the
noise

Cut black.

In transparent fallacy
The temple of glass amongst the cold
golden

sun

speaking       to                  -me-
referring
pointing                  g
lo­oking         at     n           -me-
                             i
                        ris
                   up
         in an

warcry

i t n e v e r s l e e p s

but
I
awaken.
celeste Dec 2017
i will not

t
e
a
r

myself

a p a r t

to make someone else

WHOLE
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