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Ramsha Jun 2017
"A memory is not the one
that comes when you're alone,
It's the one that comes
when you're amidst a crowd,
but it still makes you feel alone."
allie May 2017
SCREAMING
YELLING
i'M dEfEaTeD
i GIvE up
i gIVE uP, oKaY?
i give up

i'll be obedient
i'll be a good girl
i'll be your star
and you can stick me onto a podium
i'll tell them about my troubles
and then say it's all okay now.

i give up.

i thought you were different, that's all.
i thought you were different

i give up.

i don't want to be obedient
i don't want to be a good girl
i don't want to be your star

go ahead, scream.
i'll say,
"i'm sorry... i'll never do it again."
then i'll go ahead and go do it again.
you will threaten me.
take things away.
i can't hang out with friends anymore
i can't have my computer anymore

and
finally
you'll take something away
that is so precious
so dear to me
and i'll strike back
or leave
hopefully.
from anger to rebellious thoughts to hope. i think that's how it goes, but i'm still in the rebellious part.
Jim Davis Apr 2017
"A super mighty"
Threatened as "preemptive strike"
From North Korea

©  2017 Jim Davis
Sorry, couldn't resist!  Let's hope for peace!
Colm Mar 2017
I am thunder
I am lightning
I am a length of the Willow whip in the wind
Ever cracking in the air and striking
Precariously
That’s how I like to live
When I’m on point
And on the edge
No one can withstand the imminence
The ultimate outcome
When I assume this stance
Ask anyone of my dominance
And they’ll assure you of such prominence
Because when I unchained myself
The thunder rolls
And the strike looms
Ominously
#ego
"Wala pay sulod atong sako Nay.”*

Sack of rice is empty
Stomach rumbling mercilessly
Mind is hazy, breathing sporadically
Cold porridge is a feast.

“Go home!” says Mama sternly
Frantic, frightened, panicky
Rocks hurled, bullets fly
Blood splatters; running aimlessly

We dodge our way to safety
Cold porridge is a feast.

“I will not,” I say adamantly
She looks at the sack mournfully
Empty. Devoid of sanity.
Cold porridge is a feast.

“We’ll get some soon. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I feel weak, I am crabby
I’m staying despite this misery
Cold porridge is a feast.

Childlike will, piety of soul
Purity of intention, pursuit of living whole

Cold porridge is a feast.
Colm Sep 2016
So many poets attack with words,
With the intent to hit you on the first line.
Like a clunky sword or strand of steel,
Which couldn't so much as break through twine.

To which I would say,
That you must first name and know yourself,
Or at least your opponent,
Before you try and sway or slay them with a single line.

Such poetry would mean to me,
Little more than a stick,
In a sword fight with a gigantic tree.

Try not to aim for the heart immediately,
But approach the chest,
And hum your bladed words through the air most rhythmically.
Until an opening you do see for such an acute verse as me.

Deliver then a heavy blow,
A fatal strike.
Which will leave the readers lying in the streets,
Bleeding out of relief and not out of agony and disbelief.
General ramble about verse. I hope you enjoy. (:
Viseract Sep 2016
Shall I make my grand return?
Or are you still cautious,
Wary of spectacular entry,
Garnished grandeur,
Needless in all its brilliance?

I feel a presence,
It's hunting, seeking.
It has found you,
And I shall remove it from existence

Eliminate with loyalty,
With heart, with unseen protection...
Ah, loyalty.
A word I do so enjoy, one that I honour

Eripere de tenebris, maneant in tenebras.

My new motto
that last part is Latin
EMM Aug 2016
England lies below the ground
Chiselled out of diamond,
Blackened halls where men would dance
On floors of obsidian, twice removed from the stars.
Parlours made of coal.
Where man and beast alike would toil
Birth would grant them pigment
But birth’s decision was in vain,
When the sun began to fall, they would arise, of colour all the same.
Nowadays the men walk free;
Above
Drink pints in the morning, offer empty yells,
To that guy who came here to escape the shells,
To the girl who arrived here with three degrees,
And now scrubs floors down on her knees,
To the guy who works for minimum wage,
He could be writing upon this very page.
Spirit crushed under coal when the mines closed down
Now England lies below the ground.
Underland Jul 2016
Strike a match and you will get a flame
A flame always leads to fire
Where there is fire someone is likely to get burned
So be careful who you hit
It may take a few tries but a match always lights
And it always starts a fire
Now you don't see matches in the Burn Unit
So be careful who you strike
Because if you strike a match
You will go up in flames
Viseract Jul 2016
Bruises for my troubles
And troubles give me bruises
Classification is big at High School
And they've stuck me with the losers

Sniggering and sly talk
Like I learnt to read lips a while ago
So don't clap at the top of that mountain
And try to blind me with all that snow

They believe I'm a chained bull
They can **** me into anger
But this ****
                     Is
                        Going
                                   Down
And you think you know me, but I'm a stranger

Weren't you told as a kid
To not talk with whom you know not?
I'm allowed to fight back now
So
    Run
            Before
                       I
                         Watch
                                   Your
                                           Corpse
                                                       Rot

Honestly
My father said if words don't work
Just knock 'em one
But stop short of going bezerk

He doesn't wanna pay what they'll need if I stick them
In
   A
      Wheelchair...
Full violence authorised... Words don't work so I'm hoping my fists will... and my feet.... my palms... my elbows... knee... and maybe the broken jaw will shut them up
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