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Cecil Miller Aug 22
I was between boy and man.
Had no direction, but I wanted to stand.
On solid ground, only had quicksand.

One night I pulled from the bone.
There was a voice like my own.
I didn't feel quite so alone.
I tried to flex, but I wasn't fully grown.

I was a member, but just an ember,
I was an elemental, I was fire.

I was a teen-age outlaw,
A living, diseased claw
Not yet in the prime of my life.
I was a savage' young,
a raving romantic
Surviving under cover of night.

They never knew what to do with me.
When I look back, it wasn't easy.
I tried to be how they said I should be.
There was no way that it ever could be.

One time I thought I might be alright.
Then I picked someone else's fight.
I gladly gave my time in the light.
And I went back under the cover of night.

I was a sinner, but I was a winner.
I was eternal, I was fire.

I was a teen-age outlaw,
A living, diseased claw
Not yet in the prime of my life.
I was a savage' young,
a raving romantic
Surviving under cover of night.

Behind the moonwalk,
Long before the swelling sea,
The riverbank was eroding,
Crumbling like the memory
Of my only dream.

I was a teen-age outlaw,
A living, diseased claw
Not yet in the prime of my life.
I was a savage' young,
a raving romantic
Surviving under cover of night.

I was a renagade, I slipped from the iron cage.
I was insane, crazed,
Steered by the moon's phase.
I had a long way to crawl.

I was a teen-age outlaw,
A living, diseased claw
Not yet in the prime of my life.
I was a savage' young,
a raving romantic
Surviving under cover of night.
I wrote this early this morning, August 22, 2019 in about 30 minutes.

It's a basic structure of a song. It's not especially innovative. It is autobiographical, somewhat. You have to know me to know my psychoanalizing phrazes. Read the poem; read the poet.
Johnny walker Aug 16
I remembering sunny days spent with my sweetheart
days I remember Oh so well
for Helen made that final walk to the light and disappeared from
I'm remembering those days
clinging to memory for thats all I have left now of our sunny days together just forget about the rain life
will never be the
Sunny days that we made love Oh such memorable moments under the watchful eye of the warming sun that kept our Intimate moments
secret hidden from the
Paul NP Aug 12
Gentle solar I see you, I feel ya. My light bends around you. I'm not afraid am I? Afraid to dye, my touch in your Heaven? My earthly hurt in your pain. My chosen empath. I forget what I do when I'm cold and blue. How about you?

I am a mammal I do not comprehend your sight. Yet I try my best to re ignite, you, night.

When I am sleepy I am tired, listen to my wire.

Oh boy, are you gentle, soular kind? I appreciate thy design. How about you and I relax our sombre.

Dad, I'm sorry for everything I told you about your love.  

Thanks, me too. My wisdom is hours , my time is forgot.

I think I got it.

Why don't you still with da.

I'm too out spoked, I feel when I feel my lungs. I realize that I am gent.

My advice to your soul is to marry your divinity.

See ya around.
Bye kiddo.
Sunair, solar wind, love, thanks, reason, kind, gentle, sore, beauty, be you.
Growly Wolfus Aug 11
He lurks in the shadows.  He burns in the light.
It seems he can feel nothing.
He is silent and stays out of sight.
He's hiding from something.
He cannot touch us and feeds off our dreams.
He haunts us in our sleep.
He is not as evil as he seems.
Our happiness, he keeps.

He has crab-like legs and glowing eyes,
his hands and claws like cages,
his tail with feather ends raised high,
he's been here throughout the ages.
His ears are sharp.
He can hear every whisper.
He has a good heart
and's a wonderful listener.
He has a large mouth with four fangs.
He's a shadow in the night.
Under my bed, he lingers, he hangs.
Only for me will he fight.

People I tell of him say it's all lies.
They never believe when I say he is real.
We're friends, and in dreams, we sail all the skies.
I made him a promise. I intend to keep our deal.

He says little now as a voice in the shadows.
He guides me to the light.
He holds me up when I feel powerless.
The monster in the night.
I must go now.  I made a vow to leave.
He'll take me away with him.
I'm escaping this world for another, you see.
He's taking me to them.

He's here...
                                             ...and he's waiting.
This is honestly, one of my favorite story poems.  Read it as if you are a child.
Go back to being naive and curious.  It'll impact you all the more.  Escape into another world.
I am the worm
I can be harm
I can be calm

I am the worm
No matter people like me
No matter people hate me
I am the worm
I can be little
Down, down and brittle
I am the worm
I can be big
Fears any thing
I am the worm

She met a great snake
She said with astonished
That the worst
She ran and escaped
The snake said with the confident

The worm said,”
That is calm
I will have a rest
That is a cave
She entered the opened
Mouth of The fish
The fish said ,”oh! My God
That is the great present
I will swallow it in one amount”
The worm said,”
Oh please, can I be heard,
The fish said,” tell me!”
The worm said,”
I know a place
Where a great worm has
A great meat without bones
You can swallow it
Without any hard”

The fish said,”
Guide me, guide”

The worm said,”
You promise , you will not eat
And let me
The fish said,”
Yes, that is my promise.”
The fish said at himself,’’
I will eat the great worm
After I eat that worm
When she guided me to the road”

When the worm reached
She pointed to the big worm
Who was the big snake
Who ate the fish
And the little worm hided
the life is the greatest danger. to get your life safe, you must have a great mind
A masterpiece of intricate mosaic,
a beauty underlied with chaos.
She lets them see,
what she wants them to see.
Erian Jul 12
You in my arms
Is all that is ever true
Under the everlasting blue
Slow the day light to shine across your eyes line.
Marks the start of the self assessment.
I figured accessories would never say too much for the me .
I do not want you to see .
Nor the parts confused by the brim.
By the ribbon and fake flowers.
The hair bunches and bundled up looking like there was effort to make you look more gathered and put together.

But you know it's not the time or the place
When you pull back and try to undress with your hat on .

As you wonder is it practicel or endearing
You know
It is neither one
That your coming undone
What color, shape, or texture left under the cover is the only thing we need or see .
I'll fake a breeze and knock off the cherry on the Sunday of

There is your natural form even if you maybe more insecure than you would like to be
Ken Pepiton Jun 22
Some things
in the stories did not happen
as they happened in the stories.

We can know that


while it's called today,
some things in the stories

Just hap, as if this
were the story, happening
perfect as told and somethings
that do happen here
happen not
as they happen in the stories,

we can know, this is so.
Aha, first glimpse beyond today
Brave sky under mine.
Beautiful light.
Warm Earth above mine.
Fresh freedom.
Calms guide.
Silence air .
On one side.
Open mind.
On other side.
With clear brain in my pocket.
I go to walked it.
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