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Reappak Apr 17
All those things he bared
kept quiet for days and years,
Unwanted comments, or remarks
weren't answered yet!
All those talks were
Gathered in his heart
All the stones thrown at him,
were kept in a safe,
the safe where the rocks
were turned into molten lava

and then that hate and wrath
Which was hidden deep in the heart
Erupted at last!
It was the answer of all those hate
Which were buried deep beneath
and all this hate, bornt ages ago
Caused disasters everywhere!

Next time, you pass a comment
unwanted or unfriendly
Remember, each volcano has a time
When it erupts at last!
and answer all those hate and wrath
Causing disasters everywhere! Beware
Poetic T Apr 5
We were none the wiser, I shopped the stalls,
for bread, for father was treating us to a
                                                                ­­          luxury.

He'd been offered overtime, and we didn't have it
      very often. But he knew we were down, and hungry.

Feeling the earth move, the gods were either hungry,
                                       like our empty stomachs.
Or they were punishing us for not giving enough praise
                                             for there gestures of kindness..

We heard the rumbling of Vesuvius, like an empty belly
                                                       rumbling for worth.

Then we heard the screams, as the mountain spat its
anger towards us, we had no where to run.

To hide from the mountains anger was futile.
             We huddled together,

praying to our gods


for salvation..

But our plea's  were unheard,
   had we put our faith in the wrong god!!!


Hearing the dark snow fall like pebbles and then the
                      ash of concealment.

Suffocating in our prays, we huddled tighter than
             life's last breath... and then we
            were like statues
frozen in a moment of futility...

A once flourishing moment, buried in times
                   concealment.

We were found, shells of our former selves,
                  huddled in eternity a love.

Fossilised in a last moment,
           telling the future we died together,

a moment of love shown through the ages...
William Marr Feb 2
seeing the wounds and scars

humans had caused on his body

he shook uncontrollably

and finally opened his mouth

boom!

to let out his burning anger
Her heart burst into the air
Like a zillion shards of red.
Her heart a fashion show
Displaying a jacket wrapped around
it's waist.
I fell in love, my heart following hers
in applause.
I'd never seen a live volcano before.
Not until she opened her mouth
& covered me with her heart.
Her heart a fashion show
Displaying a jacket wrapped around
it's waist & prints of confetti
blown against it's face.
Love but an invitation to our
own private island in the making
Nylee Dec 2019
So what you erupt
Like lava of volcano
Just like that
Without warning
You hid well you were hurt
Is that my fault?

You offending purposely
cause you took unintentional offense
Now that you are gone
But you're still in my head
making me restless when i try to rest
You want to hear the words sorry
But do you feel the same.

Is your ego flame bigger than your loved ones?
Why did you drag me into the mud?
Bleeding poetry fills the pages like ancient Rome was filled with wine.
The flowing words never make sense, but at least they're mine.
Every line the same lie- Im fine.
How long until this kindom will surrender?

Like the Vesuvius hidden in Pompeï.
Like a volcano hidden far away.
When the volcano erupts, will you stay?
And let me hold you strong and tender?

In this kingdom of fire, let me protect you.
I will hold you, through and through.
Call me your percecutor, that will do.
Will you let me be your defender?

This world is dark and full of fire- I see.
But it can be beautiful if we want it to be.
And as long as you will fight the world with me-
One day, we might comprehender.
Just a lil something I wrote while I was bored in class.
The grammar is a mess, but I do not give a frick.
Grace Haak Sep 2019
OUR LOVE WAS LIKE SCATTERED SPARKS
THAT LIT UP LIKE LAVA LIGHT
BUT EVEN VOLCANOES OF PASSION DIE
AND I'M LEFT WITH STARLESS ASHES
THAT REMIND ME OF A LAVA LOVE
THAT ONCE ENGULFED THE NIGHT IN FLAMES
SøułSurvivør Aug 2019
There was a pearl Palace
In a land so far away
They said it glowed at midnight
And sparkled in the day
In the pearl Palace
A lovely princess stayed.

She walked The Halls a'dreamin
Of a handsome man
To take her from the golden Halls
Of that foreign land
But her company was peacocks
She didn't understand.

A Wizard's spell had captured her
To keep her in that place
Where no one kept her company
Tears flowed down her face
She was kept quite comfortably
In her Silk and Lace.

She knew the great volcano
Would erupt for miles and miles
If she left the Pearl Palace
Where she was kept in style
And so she stayed there all alone
A sad and lonely child.

Catherine Jarvis
8/16/2019
Another poem for the book which my friend Steve is illustrating. I wish you could see this visual ... it's absolutely beautiful!
She Writes Apr 2019
I am a volcano disguised as a mountain.

I used to be active, erupting in a fit of rage without notice. Destroying those around me, even the ones I hold most dear.

I have slowly become dormant. I have painted a beautiful facade. I appear strong, steadfast, solid and safe.

The truth is I am still a volcano. I am hollow, unstable, ready to explode at any second.

My feelings, my magma, are churning and turning beneath my sturdy exterior. I am constantly under pressure. The gravity of the world presses against me. I am in a continuous battle with myself, trying not to explode. Trying not to destroy those around me.

Occasionally the pressure becomes too much, and my magma pours out of me. The people that have made their home around me are always shocked when I erupt.

I cry to them "what do you expect when you build your life on a volcano?" To my surprise a small few have chosen to rebuild, choosing to live on my volcano knowing full well I just may destroy everything they have built again.

One day I will become extinct, then I will truly be a strong, sturdy mountain, and a safe place to call home.
This is not a poem, but it felt poetic. This unedited, straight out of my journal. Raw and true. Someday I will turn it into art, but for now, it will remain a rant from an anxious over-thinker.
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