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Ken Pepiton Dec 9
Along the threaded lag bolt path,
at scale, as existence twists toward
a peace past understanding, even
in the past when religions won
wars against heathen satanic
savages and book makers…
made slaves of all losers…
and heroes died young…

old Is-ai-ah a liar yoke broke bull.

Or does life
in the word realm extend dominion
across domains long reserved
for the learn-ed mankinds
worth decreed long lines
of ration reservations,
right to use rules,
golden ruled,

chuwd chiydah
riddle a little riddle

shamar briyth amar
by keeping our weform
whatsoever we agree, we
makes our stand, not under
by my own word, I so say, on
--gwanb'guns half done doit
be thinking once I heard tell

I know that riddle
in Ezekial,
from a POV ascribed
to professional amanuensis -
ritual hear and reply, last words
spoken -
in secret sacred all in once
told tales, crossroad wagers offered

never tell a soul you saw the towb ra'
without mentioning the wise serpent,

risen
in curious music
from nowhere,
wha…

a class of tongueless eunuchs
some have suggested. Created
to oath bound accuracy, verbum
verily holding the rude pen in spirit

17:21… after the riddled parable

And all his fugitives
with all his bands shall fall
by the sword, and they
that remain shall be scattered
toward all winds:
and ye shall know

{Dusty trails, forever}

that I the LORD have spoken
[it].
A long, long time ago…

Suffice
to know the Torah, preserves
the form
of temporal wrath defense rituals,
Jolly good luck charming mitzvahs,
the recipes, the dance, none chance
old as the stories told during Job's days,
centuries before Moses, if Moses ever was,

as the witnesses
of all first drafts… done left us
riddles and esoterica, mostly
to keep us safe
from preachers.
Safe at home. Made peace by calling out for war profitteers future plans, and I got BAE 's website... NATO ARMS DEALERS PUBLIC ACCESS
dammed domain flux CAPSLOCKED me sir next.... the rest
Bekah Oct 16
It is I who slew the dragon
And I who must be king
The burden of a crown
Is what that night did bring

A knight who was triumphant
And stood on solid ground
Piercing the monster through the heart
Until it made no sound

But in the court of whispers
They laugh behind their hands
For the throne I won with valor,
Is built on shifting sands

It was I who slew the dragon,
And faced the beast alone
The king of fools they call me
But it is I who claimed the throne
CMXIClement May 2020
I am a piece of paper.

I have been cut down, and put through a mill.

I have been tossed by the winds, yet tethered to every word written upon me.

Words written in black ink, spelling in all capitals that I'm useless, and unlovable.  That I am in the way, and that when I am out of the way I am forgotten.

Words written in blood, saying that I have no reason to go on. I will never be accepted; that I am not enough.  

Words written in invisible ink saying that I will never be seen.

My paragraphs are blotted out, crossed through and rearranged by careless editors.

My crisp texture, and white color gives way to muddy boot prints.

I am rife with tears and crinkles at the hands of careless of writers.

I have been cut down, and put through a mill.

The truth is though...

I am a piece of paper.

I have many uses.

I can be your origami, a love note, or an airplane.

I can be an interesting article, or a beautiful story.

There, among the chicken-scratch and scar tissue, I have room to write my own words.

With caret marks I correct every word I
ever let define me.

My story isn't written on me.  The changes made to the words written on me are my story.

One thing this piece of paper has learned, is that you should never give people the power to write in
permanent maker what should only be written in pencil.

And you cannot control the whipping wind you whirl in, but you can be a page worth a second look.

We are all worth a revision.
Kada Oct 2018
Break downs happen before a break through.

                                                                                 -Kada
There's always a rainbow after a rainy day!<3
Eleanor Sinclair Aug 2018
In moments of weakness I’m like a hermit

In moments of strength the lion emerges
xmxrgxncy May 2017
You flatter yourself by thinking those harsh words were about you.
You don't mean enough to me for me to set aside time to write about you, let alone think about you.
D L Smith Nov 2016
Hold your breath.

Count to Ten.

When you've done it.

Take it all in.

There is more to this.

More to your world and my own.

There is a beautiful sky.

Even though the clouds hang low.

With every death there is life.

With every sadness there is joy.

Just take a breath.

Feel everything around you.

Its purpose, your purpose.

Everything has a sliver of goodness.

A taste of what better days will bring.

Close your eyes, count to ten, time to get up, your day begins.

D. L. Smith 11/15/2016
Airisgone Jul 2015
I am not an actress worthy of the screen,
I am but a normal human.
And I know,
I too am mortal

My pain, and sadness you refuse to understand
So, I pretend.
I smile, laugh and it kills me
You who fail to understand me

They tell me to try
And I do,
yet every time when all is going well
You look at me with eyes of disgust

Shame me if you must
Shame me if you will
But know one thing
I will eventually move on

You will not be my chains
I refuse you to be what holds me down
I will cast you away from me
My dear depression
I will win over you.
That is my will
Ensnared in
the crystallization
   of  web's
intimidating deception,
superficial spider
met its
duplicitous match,
whence the improvised
contortionist morphed
         forth from its chrysalis,
              spun midst grandeur
               in triumphant
                            survival of flight's
                                       sheer inception
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