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Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2020
All I pay attention
Is how the story ends

Once upon a time
Usually
Like this
Most stories begin
Genre: Abstract
Theme: But some stories never end
Initial J Sep 2020
Lucky is a strike of fate
A new found love
Perhaps a seldom date

They say lucky is as lucky does
But there are quite a few
That lucky never really was

Try as they might to be
Some will never
Lucky is what they cannot be

Few can really come to relate
And they won't realize
Until its a day or two too late
Lucky to say the least
Bhill Sep 2020
everyone has heard of the acorn tale
”Delusional thinking, obviously, the other acorns concluded.”
everyone has listened to the Little Red Hen
”she made the bread herself, she will eat the bread herself.”
----------------
not everyone has their hands stained with labor
we all need to work together
stop the bickering and name-calling
stop the delusional thinking and help make the bread
we got this - we have to get this!

Brian Hill - 2020 # 249
Shin Sep 2020
Thoughts of elderberry rest on his lips.
The poison dripping softly down the chin.
A gasp for air, one final love's eclipse.
Abruptly, the devils rise from within.

Clenching at the mottled Juniper Tree.
Their eyes glint of gold, their teeth gnash the bones.
His violet stained brow grows wild and free.
Frenzy takes hold and they throw the first stones.

A jam forms of berries, blood, and bruises.
Their echoed cackles buried in the sand.
Tear-stained ink blots, his soul he abuses.
Only then shall he find his helping hand.

A beginning's end as abrupt as rain.
A tale we shall tell again and again.
Norman Crane Sep 2020
Once upon a tiny planet,
a hunter and his rifle stalked their prey,
It always got away,
  until the day he fired—
Dropping dead,
with a bullet in the back of his head.
Attempt at microfictional poetry: a few lines and rhymes telling a story. This one's scifi.
Alienpoet Aug 2020
There are galaxies inside of me
waiting to be explored.
There are stories to be told that leave you wanting more
there are religions in the chaos of my mind
but I am blind to all the possibilities,
fed by science’s facts
the love in my heart set on targets I will never reach
the knowledge I will never preach
the words I won’t speak
but I am the madness
the chaos the light the order the darkness
I am the shadow of a prophet
a wizard’s fairy tale...
Shadow Aug 2020
On a cold starless night,
He'd light three candles warm and bright,
We'd sit around him and he would say:
"What tale shall I tell you today?"

Everyone shouted out their favourite tale
And he'd tell them all in great detail!

He would tell tales of the mermaid's love,
Of the farmer's tears and heavens above,
He'd recite us an epic or two,
and we'd laugh and jest the whole night through.

He'd tell us about long lost loves,
And of bravery and what it behoves,
He'd talk about the seven skies,
And tell us about that mermaid's eyes,
He'd sing about the oceans and rivers and seas,
About wizards and sacred trees!
About fireflies and midnight breeze.

We would all sit around or fall asleep,
And our imaginations would pierce deep
Into the skies or the oceans blue
Until the night sky lost its hue,
And the sun's light peered through.

We all loved him and he loved us too,
but the hands of time always separate you,
So now he's above the seven skies,
and watches over us with big bold eyes,
I hope that I can make him proud,
And fly through this life strong and unbowed.

So that one day, when I'm old and yet hale,
I can tell my grandchildren this very tale,
To tell them of the desert sky,
And the little prince who could fly.

So that in peace I can pass by...
To live my life and feel the love, of which is told in many tales,
And be courageous in the face of life, for fear never avails.
you’ve become nothing
but fire and wax and regrets.
you’ve become a cautionary tale,
a warning of loving too much too fast
you’ve become a memory
in a long list of lovers, of tragedies

you’ve become nothing
but ash and feathers and bone,
you’ve become a story,
a tale of boys who fell for suns
you’ve become a glimpse,
a moment of clarity that ends all too soon
29 août 2020
3:10 pm
Shannon Soeganda Aug 2020
The Empress is about to take Her Throne.

The Queen awaits patiently;

for after The Long Wait,

they both shall reunite

and reign together

in a Communion of Alchemical Union---

of two halves of a soul; from the same soul core.
2020-2022 Prophecy.
Let's see what's on menu from now on forward to 2022.
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