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Lxvi Jun 2020
City o' canvas built like a tent
Held together by strands
That can barely make rent
The poles hold is folky yet formal
These people sized holes, becoming too normal
I'd spin you a tale, but where to begin
A city of winners, **** stained in sin
Lord stretch thee almighty abundant in lands
Take it or make it, but never hold hands
My humble city
Will Jun 2019
Wake with me as the sun sets across the tree lined peaks.
Close your eyes when your lids grow weary.
Fall asleep in our tent, as the sun rises through the night.
Our fire burned bright, as we talked about finding love, losing life, and weeks gone by.
Savor every moment in these mountains, because soon enough this world will pass is by.
Tylese Dec 2018
I hear a voice screaming,
open the tent...
and there is my best friend screaming...
"help help," she says,
but I could not care less,
for she was being held by a,
big harmless,
maybe it was furry,
had claws sharp open,
but for that night,
my tent stayed open...

I wake up the next morning,
for there she is,
not dead,
cooking us,
marshmallows instead...
For it was all in her head.
summer heat
is smooth
thus behoove
a president
to make
the wall
and fight
to keep
the right
wing and
drag under
this tent
with steadfast
loyalty and
thier families
first will
bear arms
a note on immagration
a wand of disappearances
operate in our very
who is the conductor
of its vanishing

where once our fellow
poets did pleasantly
now the wicked wand
has eradicated their

numerous blank spaces
symbolize the conductor's
employing a wand which
has emptied the

black the hour
black the day
a black instrument
whisking them all too
suddenly away
a wand so dark
of intent
wanting to wane
our writers tent

the subtracting conductor
will be planning future
so be mindful of its
wand's unsolicited
Up until three days ago, poet Rye Sing was actively contributing and commenting on the Hello Poetry site.  I find it most strange that he/she has just disappeared into thin air.
one is so glad
for not being a member
of his harem
exclusion from the inner sanctum
gives one a good perspective
on the everyday doings
between his adoring ladies
one oft sees them bickering
over his attention
the females appear
to be competing
at a super-human rate
hoping he'll send a flashing wink
their way
the sheik
has many choices
his tent
Zero Nine Aug 2017
You think I give a **** how much you kick and scream?
It's actually so ******* cute that you think you're over me.
I know the need to destroy, I know your destructive destiny,
but it's high time, and we both deserve to stay alive. One more
time, I'll beg you ride the rails, arms around me. If I die, I'd prefer
not to be interred by me, all the death in hand as dirt, surrounding.
outstretched fingers
Julie Grenness Jan 2017
Here's a silly little tale,
I hope  a giggle does not fail,
I was cooking Bok Choy in a tent,
On a primus stove, up she went,
You can guess what that meant,
Dinner was a non-event,
Now known as "The Bok Choy Incident!"
Feedback welcome.
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