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ogdiddynash Jun 2020
ahem!

phasers on full,
having violated
someone’s human rights,
prepared to be eliminated.

on trial for a continuance
to keep on breathing,
gave a summation speech:

an untitled poem
is a diamond with
a single imperfection,
casting shadow doubt
on the flawlessness of
a huge finger rock


it’s an angel without a halo,
it’s a cat without any claws,
it’s a ice cream sundae sans cherry,
it’s a rudderless ship, no captain,
it’s rock ‘n roll without **** Jagger,
country with no Bonnie or Jolene,
female songwriters with no Adele


it’s a woman you’ve met on a train,
falling in love, instantly, whimsically,
she says I love you too! but there’s
no profit in it, no chance of success,
leaves without leaving her name


it’s a poem without a directive, a legendary,
imperfect perfection without a signpost pointer,
it’s the only loving worth having, that when lost,
unforgiving, the thousandth cut, so when she asks,
“forgive me?” your silence chokes, you cannot reply


incapable of completion,
you’re un-entitled,
you’re untitled,
a blank,
whited-out,
nameless as well


forevermore
^ feel free to substitute man, it makes zerodifference.
Brewomble Jun 2020
To give in or give up,
That is the question.
And as I sit here and ponder my life’s reality
The lifestyle that’s led up to this point
I’ve realized there is no simple answer
There’s no reason as to why you find yourself struggling to find the meaning in your life
Or as to why you can’t fall asleep soundly to the silence of your own breath;
And it’s only when I’m awake and listening can I see the truth before me,
Your sound asleep with contentment in the arms of my sheets and I, well I, I am here dealing with the mess you have left me behind to deal with.
You’re hurting too,
Your kisses cannot coat the pain this time
Nor will mine
For my eyes are dry and my heart is numb
But I’m foreshadowing your next move
A dim light and a snow fall
A cold walk and a liquor coaxed dream
Only now you see me.
So when I tremble in dismay with your hand on my cheek; do not be weary,
For I have not but pondered this outcome
To give in or to give up?
That is the question.
And it is now that I realize there might be more than yet two answers
My eyes are open, my ears are sound, and my heart is still
This time 4 months hasn’t changed me;
But I still hope you will

~Bre Womble
Sunday March 31 2019
Darkness falls across my mind.
I look around and all I find
Is misery in a shade of blue
And its shadows in a purple hue
The ground beneath as dark as ash
My mind befuddled as the moments pass

Lost within this moment more
I reach out to the iron door
Plagued with visions of past and fate
I make my way through the ebony gate
Beyond the velvet mocking walls
I come to the fear of my memories calls.

Then I wake only to see
What I fear most of all is me.
This is one of my UA poems. Written 9-16-2010.
hina Dec 2018
You left in between words
And now I can't decipher them.
You left in between colors
And now my life is devoid of it.
You left in between songs
And now I can't listen to them.

You stayed when you didn't want to
You left when I didn't want you to.
You said that you won't change
What happened to your love, then?
You left me without a clue
How do you think I'll be able to get through?
You're hurting, so you hurt others in return.

You were my escape,
And now you've got me caged
In this never-ending pain and sadness.
You took the keys with you
And I'm still waiting for your come back
To finally free me.
EM Lisard Mar 2020
The Moon is another reminder that you made it through the rough. You can't hate her, can you? Time is fake, man-made to control the seconds but it keeps us tracked to when to pray and when to party.

The Moon is another symbol that we made it and it was not our last. Presences of relief, reinsurance that you will be okay for the sun to tell you to get up.

To get up and survive again.
TheWitherChannel Jan 2020
As we remember
The moments when
We danced below the stars

As I wave goodbye
To your wooden cell
Floating on their shoulders

As you go, free at last
On the pyre of regret
I throw the flame
Delia Grace Jan 2020
I bought a slingshot
from a cartoon ad
at the back of my comic book.

I made a target
from a piece of wood
and it kinda looks like a person.

I collected rocks
from the school
but only the ones that are sharp.

I waited for the mail
with Mrs. Kliven next door
whose son is in the military.

I got my slingshot
from the ad in the book
and all my rocks fit in it just right.
12/15/19
Sage Jan 2020
grasping at my supple shoulders, applying your veined, snow hands, you haul me from enfolding infirmity
2017
Jason Drury Dec 2019
These are wounds
piled on my desk.
They bleed for
attention and ink.

These are nameless,
kept away from view.
******* children,
of my quill.

Urchins in rags,
unkept and unfinished.
They haunt my dwelling,
as beggars do.

They are dismembered,
without proper structure.
Perhaps faceless,
void of identity.

Give them names,
would equate their freedom.
Label them,
and they shall see the sun.

Or not,
and leave them,
as they are.

Untitled.
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