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Katie Feb 2020
sock-padded footprints track
silent steps through a darkened kitchen
the quiet click of metal-rim glasses
alerts the watchful moon to my presence

streetlights filter through drawn blinds
cloud cover blocks the prying eyes of the stars
illumination shines brighter from the inside
by the light of my drawing tablet

a rustle of sheets from the master bedroom
clues me in to my parents' awakening
risking this ceasefire much longer
would be ****** or worse come dawn

a gentle thump finds my tablet atop the fridge
quietly shifting it back to its place
the floorboards are mercifully quiet
as my feet tread the path back to my room

all grows quiet in the bedroom across the hall
my silent praise goes unanswered
as the door to my room clicks softly shut
and my dreams fade away to black
Nikos Kyriazis Feb 2019
I see the stealth Web
that covers us,
hiding us from the eclipse

I know I'm not the only one here
We are all part of its crisscross framework

The Web is our blind mother,
it bred us sensibly...

We drunk to the last drip
that it could give
and now the breastfeeding
seems to be over

Forevermore
When the ****-shot kills not, the dead lions don’t roar.
They become the ghost in the dark, silent yet present.
Like power, real power, stealth in tall green grasses,
they watch
the victory dances and gleeful prances of deluded preys.
Beware!! Be not carried away.
Look into the eyes of the golden flames,
See their manes –Alive!!
In the fog of night’s peaceful fade.

©Belema .S. Ekine
©belemascribbles
nick armbrister Feb 2018
AURORA

I’m in my stealth jet circling the planet at mach 25,
every minute means a new orbit, light into dark,
dark into light as no one can stop me, I’m ever so fast.
I ain’t human, I ain’t alien, I ain’t a ghost, I’m the Aurora,
the spirit of the northern skies on a speeding flight
to the heavens in my silver skinned craft,
as streamlined as a bullet and as graceful as a swan.
George Krokos Nov 2017
I'm interested in the prospect of exponential growth
and often wonder how some people are able to cope
when they find themselves in favour with all the hope
of realised dreams in life due to their efforts or oath.

Or where there has been a sudden increase of wealth
such as those we hear of who rise from rags to riches
for there are many true stories told of people's niches
and the way they have acquired a fortune by stealth.
__________
Written in 2017.
Lizzie Nov 2017
Disconnected is black blurred into white
making grey;
He smells like black licorice coffee,
And tastes like an old piece of candy corn,
Forgotten... Left to go bad... Unwanted...
His mother is as light as the sun on a warm summers day;
His father is as dark as the moon on a solar eclipse...
His best friend is like summer rain,
blurring everything around...
He carries black spotted white roses in his pocket,
faded blue converse on his feet, his toe sticking out the end...
His hair, jet-black hangs past his ears and falls into his eyes
like tangled ropes...
He eats dispaire for breakfast and forgotten dreams for dessert...
Disconnected loves lost and broken people...
His dream is to dance in the night away from the light and out of sight...
He moves stealthy like a wolf;
Watching... Waiting... For his next victim...
I wrote this while I was in the hospital going on my third week.
K G Jan 2017
At your place
You suspend my coat and my ethics
By then i'm entering my stealth
Working on selflessness
Because you may hound
Because you may roam
You may find these unskippable moods all alone
You may find that i'm not a bird lifting trees and stones
KG
George Krokos Aug 2016
The older we get the wiser we're supposed to become,
such is the general result of experience in life for some.
But with age there's also the prospect of the deterioration of health
and the wisdom that's gained is used to maintain the body by stealth.
_________
From "The Quatrains" ongoing writings since the early '90's
Ambika Jois Nov 2015
As I took a fresh breath,
I realized for how long I’d been holding.
I understood I’d gone into stealth,
Immersed in the depth of thinking,
Influenced by emotion, memories;
A glimpse of the future possibilities.

My chest had tensed and tightened.
I felt some kind of unusual pain.
My senses had intensely heightened,
By the idea of losing all I’d gained.
My stomach had been churning,
Digesting how I’d been hallucinating.

I’d heard that we as humans,
Never stop wanting.
How distinctively we stand in unison,
From other creatures wandering!
The reality we know of and imagine,
Shows how wild our minds run during famine.

As I test my tolerance of turmoil,
I also test my strength in giving;
In being so far from my mother’s soil,
Knowing what fuels my living and loving,
Will connect all the roads I now roam,
To just the one that leads me straight home.
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