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Payton Hayes Mar 2021
“Unbind
Unclasp
Uncover
Uncurl
Unfurl
Undo
Unfasten
Unfold
Unhing­e
Unhook
Unleash
Unlink
Unmask
Unroll
Unveil
Unclip
Unlace
Unzip
­Untie
Unbutton
Unlock”

“Undress.”
“Understood.”

Unravel
This poem was written in 2020.
Aer Jul 2020
there's no such thing as empty pages.
in a single sheet there are worlds
waiting to be discovered,
questions waiting to be answered
and people I wish that I could be.
how many worlds can you find on your paper?
Bhill Nov 2019
Uncover yourself
Do you see
What you have become

Brian Hill - 2019 # 282
Do you know?
Steve Page Sep 2019
Before you take up your blade, Sharon
who do you see?
Will you be cutting to heal
or incising to free
some carefully hidden,
some up-til-now unbidden me?

When you take up your blade
and test the fresh edge
do you have an image of a me
fixed in your head?
Can you see in your mind
a kinda-me roughly out sketched?

When you make your first cut
do you have a clear vision
of what I'll reveal
have you made your decision
as you press down and carefully cleave
with loving conceiving precision?

When you lay your blade down
do you see I've appeared?
Do you know I'm complete
when the excess is cleared?
Or when you sleep do you wonder
whether there's a less of a me
maybe a more of a me
silently waiting here?
You need to see Sharon Walter's art to fully understand this.  She cuts away at images to reveal something new.  Quite remarkable.
www.londonartist1.com
Mystic904 Sep 2017
Visiteth, buildings those workers constructed,
Foundation lay which the heartfelt knitted

Ask them, those beside who're seated
Which rugged path the old man leaded

Look, those who just went on speeded
Saying, was that accident needed

Ever asked the lad on the hill so steep,
How much was that school boy beated

Never judge one by the front that ye witness,
By none, can their destiny be readed

Fix thyself, upon the loose ***** should you focus
Then will the fate, have a right message tweeted

Don't let nothing become the cause ye receded
Then shall desire fulfil the path ye pleaded
Shanath Sep 2017
Two sticks of bones
Laid with meat and muscles over
Cradling a devil in its fold.

The devil rises with heat
Satiated when pain is inflicted
Upon the weak.

In the midst of life
And blood and the hidden
There is an abode, a heaven.

Their chest and thighs pour
Their soul and lust
There is pleasure, there is pain.

But not all pain is pleasure.
Ask the skirts with melting limbs
Played with by the stick owners.

They violate, they tresspass
Tear them limb to limb apart
Blood is a colour they own but despise.

Parted are the weak barks
Exposed is their bottled bodies,
Their insides poisoned with sap.

Their mouths tore
To steal laughter
But what escapes are scream.

The devil in the folds
Rears its ugly head
And burnt is the heaven.

Life giving land is made to bleed
And the pillars of faith are shook
Hands to caress, strangle the own.

They are the weak
In a world of lust
They fear the devil and hate themselves.

Not all who bleed
Wish they did,
Watch those covered little girls

They have been once uncovered.
Nightmares and stories
Gabriel burnS Apr 2017
as we talk
around in circles
words fall
******* silence
A crab
squat fair
why amour
thick but
slender will
toe himself
in close
but rather
than let
go of
ties with
enzymes in
his heart
can pouch
egg with
a pinch
of salt.
My sweetheart from your beautiful veil
I intend just to see all your inner beauty
All the graces of your beauty must reveal
I want to take a chance to make you free

I do realize that when you uncover face
Glowing cheeks and eyes will be seen
Show me alluring style, enchanting grace
My little lovable innocent sweet teen

I assure you that after that I will not see
Whatever prize or surprise comes in way
Beauty of love travels in you and in me
You will make me golden brown light ray

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
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