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Angel Juice
They fueled my warplane with 130 grade octane
It was bright green and full of spells
It was witchcraft just like flight
Making my plane soar like a rocket
So I could shoot down **** jets
Defeat their Me-309 escort fighters
Beating them by pure ******* speed
Then nail the ***** jet with my cannon
Blowing his ******* head off with 20mm
Me the aerial knight in his chariot
An airborne God in a Hawker Tempest
The best fighter plane of the war
Superior to all that was German
Be it Focke Wulf 190 D versions
Or their upgraded Me-109 K series
Or the 309s and anything else
I was equal to their vaunted jets
Like the He-162 Salamander
Or fast Me-262 which was ace
I was God...
Ormond Mar 16

Our tryst was sore, more like pain or penance,
What kerfuffles in our unspoken for eyes
And love grew low, by unanswered questions.
How could we laugh, live in such indifference,

Long, unmerciful time, grinding us down
With not even limitless skies for leaven?
Each day was comic-tragedy, no Eden,
Lives flooded about, simple pleasures drowned.

Yet, each day we dreamed with harnessed wings
Bound together in the throngs, restless journey,
A promise was made on some green gentle isle
And we made our golden shifts such shining things,

Running to rays, future dawns never to come,
Shining things falling mute in dry rots of sun.
Irina BBota Jan 20
I left my thoughts on the pillow
and started waltzing on the carpet barefoot
just to see that wicked smile of yours
while the cloud's throwing out its soot,
making alliances with the purple storm,
unwelcoming the beauty of the darkness
the one between the stars,
keeping us in the fortress of unfulfilled dreams,
leaving us all behind stainless steel made bars.

I left my thoughts on the pillow,
the bedroom sins remain in the night,
your kiss has left all my senses in turmoil,
for I was and I am a very old soul inside.
Charmed and crowned by Madame Tempest,
looking for a bone of guilt,
expecting the unexpected at a wedding's breakfast,
a brilliant book of menace she has built.

I left my last thoughts on the pillow,
and then I left the other dark half of mine
that annihilated this restlessness from my soul.
Now I can shout out loud: I'm alive!
Austin Mizelle Dec 2018
Blue eyes wandering
Meet with brown eyes
Talking up tempests and
Blue eyes stops and stares.
Because wow brown eyes
You got it going on girl.
Brown eyes stares back and...
Brown eyes walks over to blue eyes,
The tempest twists
Twisting to a twister
A twister twisting the tempest
Into a beautiful hurricane.
And at the eye,
Of the hurricane I mean,
Are their eyes.
The blue one
And the brown one
Eclipsing one another
Taking in each other.
And blink...
They were gone.
Whisked away on a blowing breeze
The sky their tap shoes.
The clouds their slippers
And the breezes their clothings.
Soon blowing breezes turned to hugs
And hugs turned to handholds
And handholds turned to kisses
And kisses turned to...
And it all started
With blue meeting brown.
Savannah Nov 2018
Must you tug at my heartstrings?
daughter of Prospero and lover of Ferdinand.

While I lie awake before the placid ceiling,
awaiting the inevitable chime that signals morning's sober arrival,

Must you come to prance about my mind as always?

A part of me,
it begs that I cling to the idea that we could be so much more.
Just like before,
the velvet curtains had come crashing down prematurely.

When we had once waltzed in tandem,
with all that had come to be as our mere prologue.
It is as Shakespeare himself had spoken into his play-writing prose, the same one that had inspired your name,

“when I waked, I cried to dream again.”

You were the dream from which I begged I would not wake.
Of course.
I eventually would have to.
Nikos Kyriazis Nov 2018
May Death befall
upon thee
and be slaughtered
by the blade of thy pen

The aftermath
of the poet's resurrection
will be an allusion
to those who never
believed in art

The Tempest
shalt come early
and by wolf's jaws
the artist
shalt rescue the light
A poem to all of us, the artists
D Letwixt Oct 2018
Ere those despairing months have come to pass
And befall my pensive condition
With tempests that hide a southerly sun in undulating expression

I examine my place here
Mind swaying like blades of grass

With neither voice nor sound of breath
I consider the evanescent present.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Darkness dredges deep into the soul,
tempest gouges out my stillness in manic vengeance,
lightning in fiery wrath
rips up the mind’s horizon.
Thunderous sky roars in scaring rage.
stars have gone hiding
in the pall of gloomy clouds.

My soul too blackens out,
O Shepherd,
where are you this night?
Fxrz Ramirez Aug 2018
Come away with me as we give into our intense passion that consumes us like a storm of euphoric bliss
A rush of a new thrill
A lustful entanglement
Like a rain drop falling into a rushing cascade that then trails along, like fingers tracing on skin
Bliss, a bitten lip kiss
We tumble togther caught in an incessant ****** of powerful tempest winds, no holding back
Lost in eachother, like crashing lightning lost in the thunderclouds
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