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stargazer Jan 2020
0
even 'zero' has
an 'are'

all i have is
a 'was'
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2019
I will leave the darkness one day
Nothing to take me away
I am nothing that's worth saving
Can't be stopped from caving

A sense of justice discovered in destruction
Pain teaching specific instructions
Sadness gives tears to wash my conscience clean
One last time I return to the crime scene

They were not brave enough to face danger
Nothing is worth losing for a stranger
******* nothing to nobody
Surface is scratched and muddy

When you love me like a hero
Have the power to make me more than zero
All you need to rescue me
You own already
Day 17: Write a poem that employs a rhyme scheme
Ruheen Nov 2019
They told me
Someone's gonna hold me
And I believed them
But no one came
I waited
I waited in vain
They told me lies
And I believed them
But even though
They tell me nothing
I can still hear them
I see it their eyes
But it's all just lies
But I'm patient zero
They caught it from me
So when they're all gone
What'll be left of me
Been a while.
JV Beaupre Oct 2019
The Indian gentleman, Brahmagupta,
invented the zero, null, nil, and zip--
just for times like now:
You betrayed me, you broke my heart.

Zero, null, nil, and zip--
Rewind, erase, delete, obliterate.
You betrayed me, you broke my heart.
You are nothing to me.

Rewind, erase, delete, obliterate.
Brahmagupta’s wonderful cipher lets me precisely say:
You are naught to me--
And not just for now, but forever.
A pantoum.
Brahmagupta did indeed invent the mathematical concept of zero in India in the 7th century, CE.
JV Beaupre Oct 2019
The Indian gentleman, Brahmagupta,
invented the zero, null, nil, and zip--
just for times like this:
You betrayed me, you broke my heart.

Rewind, erase, delete, obliterate.
You are naught to me.
Brahmagupta did indeed invent the mathematical concept of zero in India in the 7th century, CE.
Em MacKenzie Oct 2019
Playing a game of cat and mouse
but we both lose track of the bird.
My scorched soil I failed to douse,
I’m filled with such fuel; it’s so absurd.
I linger always alone in an empty house,
speaking two thoughts but I left out the last word.
They were meant with love but I turned to grouse,
either way they never seem to be heard.

I wish I was licking stamps
instead of licking my wounds.
My letter to you gifts my fingers cramps,
I hope one day you decipher it soon.
The one thing that I am best at
is always being a bad example,
I can elaborate on how to keep looking back,
but not on the best way things should be handled.
And I hope one day you’ll see your name
woven in each line and all my stanzas.
But I think when you see it that way, I’ll just explain,
not to go buying me green bananas.

When I was 15 I chose to sign up as an ***** donor,
but all are probably damaged, and the vital ones are no longer mine.
I offered them as tribute to a Queen I adore,
she collected them and added to her shrine.

My tongue is tied tight when I try to express
importance and just what it all means to me,
but if you listen closely to my chest
you’ll hear my heart beating steadily.
And when you’re dressed to the nines
I’ll still be in left in my pajamas.
Waving my arms to direct the signs,
just don’t go buying me green bananas.

I accepted your world became my cage
but I was loyal; I didn’t need a lock.
I reasoned it as the final stage,
I didn’t need a chain just for you to mock.

I’m not angry, I’m not sad,
no resentment from me, don’t go feeling bad.
I’d still take this dagger as long as it’s your hand that grips
I wouldn’t escape or try to stagger,
sadly I’m done with my trips.

I concede and admit that I’ve gone mad,
welcomed with hallelujahs and an amen.
I’m having trouble stripping off my plaid,
but I figure it’s finally time to change stripes again.
annh Sep 2019
Each day is broken
At the zero hour,
Splintering like a derelict,
On the craggy shoreline of the morn;

Flotsam abandoned,
To the oceans of yesterday,
The beach combed for treasure,
To keep for tomorrow.

When you find yourself googling ‘marine+law+salvage’ it’s time to stop poeming for the day. Have obviously been watching too much Poldark!

‘Every day we reconstruct our lives out of the salvage of our yesterdays.’
- James Sallis, Death Will Have Your Eyes
Sudeep Soparkar May 2019
What is your opinion if
Your knowledge meant nothing?
What if your life's work was
Not what you were calling?
In my mind I search Heaven, Hell
The Universe and the Earthly planes
My mind, my soul
Reasons for life
Philosophy and psychology
Where is all this leading me to?
Do I hold value for myself?
Or in the talks I have with myself?
Or am I just reasoning
Motivating
Something, anything
Healing?
I am almost 30
Not a college graduate
I take the train
I am not established in my career
I can go on a shopping spree though
That won't ease the pain though
It won't fill the void of black
Maybe I have been wrong all the time
All of those books
All of that time spent
Reading, writing, thinking
Imagining, feeling
Is in vain
I go to a thousand places
In my brains
Sometimes it is nowhere
No one knows
If zero is nothing
Doesn't that make it something?
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