Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tatiana Jan 2018
Don't look to the moon
because it'll be gone soon.

I can be the one
to make you disappear
without anyone finding out.
Sink down in my oceans
and drown,
no one has to know
that you escaped death.
So join me in my goal
of subterfuge,
because tonight I am the moon
if it decided to hide you.
I love writing about the sun and the moon. The universe lends itself to poetry.
the guy from North Carolina*
and his Ohio
CHICK
teamed up together to create
a deceptive
TRICK

dubiously they presented their ruse
on the poetry
SITE
by conjuring several personas
for posting a
WRITE  

this subterfuge was supposed to be
a secret at
HP
but they'd not bargained on the poets
who had
ESP

the wayward pair did excel  
in cunning
CHARADES   
taking other penners on
such beguiling
ESCAPADES

ploys aplenty
clever
HOODWINKING  
a fishy smell rather
offish and so
*STINKING
Journey of Days Mar 2017
crystalline eternal facade
forever
clean and bright
radiant
pure

did you not hear the silence as you approached
overcome with reverence and awed by the light?

siren’s call
drier than barren
caustic
deadly

did you not hear the silence as you approached
overcome with reverence and awed by the light?


the crust won’t hold your weight
reality breaks you will be sinking into the mire of
lies and confusion
stink of rot...decay smothering your
life
person
essence
soul

did you not hear the silence as you approached
overcome with reverence and awed by the light?

the mire is real
a salt pan of false purity
created at the cost of the lives
the rot below the surface
there is a reason that nature expires before the void

heed the silence
kneel not to these false gods
they will **** you.

#thisjourneyofdays
Brent Kincaid Feb 2016
The solution to pollution
Is to cease affluent effluent.
In other words make the rich
Live in their ecological excrement.
Force them to drink only from
Their permanently poisoned pipes
And turn a deaf ear, as they did
To any of their constituent’s gripes.

The enemies of the anemones
Fought their way to the deep
To censure and make sure
The sea creatures had no sleep.
It seems the corporations
Don’t realize what they’re doing.
If we **** off the plankton, then
We’re headed for planetary ruin.

It was bad enough when someone,
Without telling us, sold our land
And then they chopped down trees
For a reason anyone can understand;
Greed. That was the proper word.
They wanted more money in the bank.
So when the land erodes and dies
We’ll have the corporations to thank.

They cover up their eco-crimes
By declaring illegal military forays
And pretend they are taking us back
To those good old, happier days.
But in between bombing villages
It can always plainly be seen
That we and our country are
Slowly being picked totally clean.

And when we object, cry out loud
That something is wrong with all this;
They start to call us unpatriotic,
Call us who starve are the neurotics.
So, don’t listen to their lying rhetoric,
Instead look at what they are doing.
The sonsabitches are Macbeth’s witches,
And they have a lot of poison brewing.

— The End —