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Crow Oct 2018
This way to the show, folks
The most amazing show you have ever seen
Bigger, wider, deeper
Wondrous and terrifying
More beautiful than your dreams
Uglier than you can imagine
And all for free
If you speak very loosely, that is

Watch your step son
Don’t trip on the unintended consequences

Step right this way
There’s no time like the present
In fact there’s no time left at all
Take a peek behind the curtain if you dare
What’s the worst that could happen
Probably best not to think too much about it

See the man without a plan
Watch him stumble through life
Be amazed as he defies death on the streets
His struggles with addiction will amuse you
Enjoy the bitterness of his regrets

Be stupefied by the clueless wonder
Taken advantage of at every turn
Thrill as he turns into the human doormat
Feel free to wipe your shoes on him
He likes it, really

Prepare your senses for the shock of
The compassionate woman
Stand bewildered as she is betrayed by lovers
Gasp as she weeps for people she does not know
Make her a promise as you leave fellas
You will make her day

You will be stunned by the man who is not like you
Be horrified at his minor differences
Criticize all his perceived flaws
Feel free to mock him, he is used to it

What’s that ma’am
No don’t feel sorry for them
They like it here
Three hots and a cot you know
Only some humiliation each night
And twice on Saturdays

Come one, come all
Leave the show smug and satisfied
About how much better you are
Than these miserable examples of failure

All this and more and not one penny to enter
The only fee is part of your humanity
Just drop it in the box right here
On your way in
Imelda Dickinson May 2018
In the bay fields expanse complete lake’s glimmered glance

Quiet lovers withdraw in solitude entrusting lake’s cleansing mood

Her tears drop into soft sea taking dreams noiselessly

Waterfalls haste below to autumn’s crisp ember glow

Autumn moon, subdued to me deep in clouds, winks on silver sea

Driftwood floats, water-bearer of seafarer tales

Cold winter blasts like dragons bite or sting.

Companions last summer’s thoughts gathering

Clouds clad in rainbow. Mortals gaze Master’s rays

Wild geese brush Milky Way as Autumn paints

Sea beckons me, lovely scenery. Intoxicating

Sea waves changeable, like thoughts tempest torn

Lone swan flights far in wastes of sky

Sunset drifts, visiting mansions

April showers paint sailboat, streaming blue sky’s edge

Burnt rocks white with dew soaks gauze stockings, once rendezvous

Lake Superior heaves and sighs, seagulls shriek greedy cries. Traveler’s homesick

Transparent waters, tremble, tumbling. Ferryman anchors

Shining streams ripple, cascade upon phantoms of the lake

Wind and rain pound terrain like old friends deprive intimacy

Dying grass beckons Evening’s first snow
Nicholas Fonte Mar 2018
Zippity Zappity Zap
  Jolt yourself awake
    Zippity Zappity Zap
      A spark of inspiration
        Zippity Zappity Zap
          Bolt over to the goal
            Zippity Zappity Zap
              Shocking that you failed
                Zippity Zappity Zap
                  Linger in my thunder
                    Zippity Zappity Zap
MysticRiddleton Nov 2017
Humiliate the crown
Of royal blood
Whose head's up high
And draws imperial line
With greedy towers
Standing tall
And never bows
Before his Servants.

Oh, bow before the Servants!
Whose blood is full of gold
Let not a droplet spill
And end the serving line
Whose shelters sway in awe
Hardly standing tall
Bows forevermore
Before the guiltless crown!
The superior heads should learn to respect the people they can manipulate. They are valuable. Without them, they are vulnerable.
HeartCore Sep 2017
The poor greedy thing.
It's mouth full yet it wanted more.
What a capricious little thing.
Always had a narcissistic look to it.

A roof over its head.
Food on its plate.
Affectionate for love
but it had it all.

looked up, admired infinite creatures of the sky.
It always felt empty inside
But it had it all.

Poor thing walked around mindlessly so.
It understood most of the concepts of life
Yet it was empty inside.

Until it fell in love
with an asymmetrical creature.
Created by his lustering existence.

It would never have found it,
as it always looked up.
However this time around it looked down.

There it saw
that everything it wanted
was in that creature's mouth.

Soon after, it opened its clasping jaws,
To get what was in that creatures mouth.

And all it ever had, disappeared.
Like the ripples of time in space.
Àŧùl May 2017
A** baby was born to two angels,
Sweet more than honey he was,
Page another in history added,
Enriched as the parent's beloved,
Rosary of loneliness he beaded,
Groups he was always hesitated,
Enshrined in my body he was,
Robbed of happiness always,
Securing his own spheres.
I have been diagnosed with the adult version of Asperger's Syndrome and it is not a disease but it is just a condition where slight to extreme repulsiveness to the social spheres creeps up the nerves of a really intelligent fellow due to the sequence of events in their life and they usually have a high IQ but fail to understand social interactions.

My HP Poem #1537
©Atul Kaushal
Angie S Mar 2017
We meek children took the stage like we
borrowed it. I approached the grand piano,
and, asking for its acceptance of my novice hands,
seated myself before it. To my immediate right,
prepared for some unknown challenge,
waited our band, our rhythm and melody. Arms raised,
fingers gently hovering over keys and strings, we
eyed our cue and took it.
Three songs turned us from an uncertain bunch to a
formidable combination. We stole that stage
(as best as any high school combo could do),
and suddenly the stage lights didn’t feel so hot;
those lights shined for us. I left that piano
as a princess leaves a crowd in awe.
We proved superior.
my combo and i went to jazz fest and earned a superior rating. that felt really nice. we were good enough. we are good enough. i am good enough
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