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Äŧül Nov 2019
Today I received it!
My own novel!
7 Seconds: A Typical Guy, Atypical Life!
My HP Poem #1811
©Atul Kaushal
Ema Aug 2019
tonight while i sleep
shadows will peel from lampposts
and party long
finally free :-)
Bryce Jun 2018
Ar ar ar
Merry deathmas

Massive boon of life, you
No man feasts on your bones

Not those very fungi


Fi Fum drum you Protoctist ****
Shear the skin from the fun
White and node of muscled life
Make your narrow bed of marrow bread

Yeehaw life's a draw
and death presents a certain

Theres no mystery in
the biggest mystery
That it goes
with 777ccs of force
and maybe 1200 horse

and divine giant you
cud and horse and seed anew
stool of toad and brush of mold
return to state before
there was...
The day begins before it should,
and every minute is squandered,
before I jump into the car,
spilling hot coffee in my haste.

Then the rushing wind blows past me,
running through my hair in the dark;
headlights keep up with the sharp turns,
and the thumping stereo lifts me.

Parking, on time, walking briskly
to ensure the grandest entrance
to give a formal impression.
My echoed greeting meets my ears.

Hello, goodbye, I take over,
holding my vigilant station
as I toast bagels with butter
and wait for them to call me up.

"Ashley!" comes the petulant cry
and I manage to answer her.
"Coming!" And I take a slow sip
before heading up creaky stairs.

They want me to pick out their clothes.
They want me to help them get dressed.
I say, "You can do that yourself,
I'm here to do hard things, like cook."

Teasing, admonishing, waiting
for children to do what I asked;
I take one more sip of coffee
and the cup is gone far too soon.

Soon, they are eating their breakfast,
and I'm prepping backpacks and coats.
Something spills, and I clean it up;
then she says she forgot her shoes.

I tell her sister to get them,
but she won't go up there alone.
So we three climb the creaky stairs,
and come back with their socks and shoes.

We run out the door, lock the garage,
and jump in my car for a ride.
"Seatbelts?" I ask before leaving,
and they both ask me for tic-tacs.

A minute away, and I park.
They jump out and both wave goodbye.
I smile and wait for the school bus.
I drive to my next job, next door.
Work as a nanny, it's not for everyone, but I love my girls.
Nath Rye Jun 2016
it's been 240 days

and, almost each of those
i spent talking to you
or even with you, at times

240 days
in those days
i gave you parts of myself
more than i had ever given anyone else
but now it seems
it was way more than what you deserved

240 days
and while you held
parts of me in your hands,
you never really realized
how lucky you were to have those

240 days
and you still can't give back
not even love in the romantic sense, no
but what i wanted the most
your trust

240 days
and in those, admittedly,
you've brought me to great highs
but most of the time
sunk me beyond reach of anyone else
and walked away as i wallowed
in my own despair

it's day 241
and i realized i had been
watering a garden in hopes
something would bloom
but now i see how this garden
only has dead plants in it

you were a cactus
you were beautiful in your own way
but when i got close and embraced you
you stabbed me, but i patiently waited
as i bled

but maybe, just maybe, i know better now
maybe there are other plants
actually worth my time.
2am write
Nath Rye Apr 2016
you were my daylight.

i was a mere infant
who, at the crack of dawn
of his very first day outside the womb,
immediately, stupidly fell in love
with the warmth the daylight provided
and abandoned fear and doubt
in the presence of the light it shone.

sadly, though
that was short-lived
as i learned more about the daylight.

fact number one
the daylight shines upon every single one
there is no such thing as favoritism
and thus
you must never, EVER
think you're special

fact number two
the daylight can burn you
spend too much time basking in its light
and the feeling's comparable to
a moth burned by the very flame
that it is helplessly drawn to.

as i gathered more facts
i soon realized that dusk was soon approaching
but i never wanted to lose this feeling.

but, as all things go,
powerless against the constant flow of time,
desperately crying, screaming
for my daylight not to go away

it just left.

i wonder what new things dusk can bring.
this doesn't feel like a poetry piece..... but i'll post it anyway.
Foo Faa Mar 2016
I play all day
I play all night
Sorry I cannot make the funeral
My Sim had a baby
My dad died
But its okay
He was my husband
My husband has the heart breaker lifetime wish
It can never be...
Nath Rye Feb 2016
but maybe
as he ponders upon the poem he just wrote
and takes another sip from his now-cold coffee
he knew she really was the right girl for him
but was he the right girl for her?
or did she deserve more than he could ever have possibly given?
extension of right girl wrong time!!
Grace Pickard Jun 2014
It all started here;
Some thirty students-
Minds controlled by their puppeteer,
Walked in clueless

My mind came colorful, progressive-
Only my beliefs sprouted!
The seed had already been expressive
Just- the stem was clouded

The renaissance fertilized the soil
Dry, cracked, barren, deprived;
Destitute of the benevolent oil-
Used to awaken thoughts: revived

But what truly blossomed my bud-
Were the French philosophes,
Who's blue, liberal blood-
Solidified my leftist approach

I have always been the optimist;
Through many deaths and rebirths-
I knew it wasn't the apocalypse,
And instead kept the beauty of earth

Because I filled my life with fascination,
My opinions bloomed:bright and rich.
The rain could not cleanse my veneration,
Not to a diety, but to my democratic itch

My petals are strong to hold bees-
Who cannot fly or make honey
It's my civic duty to fight this disease
That in life- one is subject to money

However, I am not just one of Paine's flowers,
I am an independent with liberal powers.
This is part if my informal final paper for ap euro- I decided to answer each of the five prompts with poems

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