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Even with a thousand heads and souls around me,
The thought of loneliness always resided with me
I did not intendย to fit in everyone's sizes,
Nor was I proud of the bottle that shook with rage, ready to spill
My life disintegrates within a flash of a solution
I present myself and my energy to a dull audience
But the same smiles just stare speechless, gawking at me

I paraded willfully, expressing myself through art that was repulsive to many
Yet, there were a few eyes that presentedย a beacon, despite my addictions crumbling the floor beneath me
I reached out and touched the flames that singed my hair
Till I landed on flowers
They were not the gorgeous type,
But they were just like me:
Odd, beautiful, deterring, and tiresome.

One of them shared a joke about death,
It forced a laugh out of me, till I realized today was April Fools' Day
A skull-shaped bud cries in front of me, similar to that of a child
I take in the smell of the hole I've fallen in, though the fall was cushioned by giant red flowers
As pretty as they are, their smell is who I am
I look above and see a crucifix in the sky
Then the darkness falls in, and I accept the undeniable truth by closing my eyes.
Written in honor of Rozz Williams from Christian Death
missy brown Apr 2019
This is just to say
when i gave you that poem
I had no inkling

Of what was to come -
all the pain awaiting us
The ancestral sin

Temptation, assured
We were manicured, shared prose
Dog-hungry for plums.
None of us are without guilt or sin
A T Bockholdt Dec 2017

still in the night he
does not remember why
โ€”sounds of her sighs

her small ears
pressing into the tight
space of the day

or the tenderness between
him and her
held in the air

the repeated denial
of the time set chained  
to hold their plans

were revolting against
spent in anotherโ€™s gaze

2. Sebastian

the tenacious sense in
lets slip imitation

how I could possess
your breath
and bear it

delicately freeing
my stances
I strained

in celebration
at the sanctification
that youโ€™d
granted to Saint Sebastian
in Ireneโ€™s

will healing hands make
or trap the shaking  

of my languid silver pens  
taut but not

3. Carlos

the sweet words
for the lovers

that beats hard

without fear

their time is
now here

the shape that
sighs take

as if
limits donโ€™t exist
This is part of collection for a senior portfolio project at CU Denver
Project is intended to represent the stylistic distinctions of great American poets through the imitation of their poetics and/or their subject matter

In this three section poem, "Enacting Imitation," I work to closely mirror William Carlos Williams poem "3 Stances." Williams uses enjambment to subtly infuse multiple meanings into his sparse lines. Williams poetry also enacts a metaphysical level that allows the reader to see the poet's space of thinking and anxieties in writing which we see in "Danse Russe," wherein Williams finds freedom in writing for himself. I also use his ideas of the variable foot to employ certain rhythmic tones and speeds into this imitation.
tumelo mogomotsi Jun 2017
sometimes happiness
doesn't smile
sometimes the face
of happiness is a
cry for help

sometimes laughter
is the soundtrack
to pain
sometimes a joker
is in fact going insane

sometimes your idols
are more then idols
sometimes idols are
just human
sometimes your idols
are more then idols
sometimes idols are
just human

- t.m
Joe Thompson Oct 2016
You ate them?
You ate the ******* plums
that were in the fridge?
God, you're a selfish *******.
Trupoetry Jun 2016
Of course you believe in magic.
What you pull from your hat is far from the tricks of a rabbit.
You've made being aware the least of your bad habits.
There is a light in your eyes.
A fiery summer sky.
One worth wishing upon the stars of your mind.
A galaxy worth marveling at beyond these times.
It takes courage to be strong; thank you for being courageous.
You are the example of what our ancestors wanted for us.
I hope you continue on with the spirit of change & may God see you through!
You're a King; a good thing & we need more like you!
Jesse your message was powerful and well received. Thank you for being you!
Cat Fiske May 2015
And he wanted to join,
"the living poets society,"
because it was a club I was in,
and he wanted to hear my poems at my own will,
and write some of his own,
And he wanted to do it,
so he could get close to me,

*But isn't that one thing they argued about,
in the movie?
Just something I talked to my sweet about last night
Mike Essig May 2015

Love is twain, it is not single,
Gold and silver mixed to one,
Passion โ€˜tis and pain which mingle
Glist'ring then for aye undone.

Pain it is not; wondering pity
Dies or e'er the pang is fled;
Passion โ€˜tis not, foul and gritty,
Born one instant, instant dead.

Love is twain, it is not single,
Gold and silver mixed to one,
Passion โ€˜tis and pain which mingle
Glist'ring then for aye undone.
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