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InkHarted May 2020
figures, flames and dancing silhouettes
shades and flashes and a zing
warmth, chills and lost in azure cloud
falling to a limitless pit
a face a mirror a pathway
a door a lamp a distance
a shadow a fear a climb a cliff
a death a memory a gateway.
Martin Horton Apr 2019
My mother made lemon curd.
You could say it was her party trick.
Every year she’d make an enormous batch, and you’d have to grab a jar pretty quick.

The flavour, it was amazing!

Woke you up with a zap and a zing.

Not slept well or feeling a bit off? Have a spoonful of this and you’d sing.

The colour was spectacular, like pure sunshine in a jar.

And what made it all the more special was the lives it touched near and far.

You see, when people were given a jar of this, it touched a place deep inside.

Their lives went from grey and gloomy into lives filled with colour and pride.
They’d have it on toast or on porridge, far better than honey or jam.

I loved it turned into ice-cream, especially after eggs, chips and ham.

My mother had done this for a long time, left quite the legacy you see. Her first batch was made aged 11, her last at 103.

When her curd making days were over, and it was time to put her spoon away,
we gathered together to say goodbye, on a dull, grey and dismal kind of day.

The church was packed to the rafters, people remembered and laughed. Especially the vicar who adored her curd. He sometimes even ate it in the bath.

They all sang ‘Bring me sunshine’ as a tribute to my Mum and her spread. So here’s to her lemony goodness on crumpets, muffins or bread.
This was written in response to a competition where the title was the prompt was 'Bring me Sunshine' and this was the result.
As eighth month of the year
both within Gregorian and predecessor,
     the Julian calendar, where
said month originally
     named Sextilis in Latin
since averred month ranked sixth
     in ancient Roman calendar veer
really changed to August in honor

     of Augustus Caesar
     pinpointed eight Earthly
     steeplechased rendezvous roundabouts
     clocking viii sun danced orbitz
thru metaphorical solar turnstile,
     sans common era there

after retaining a trace
     of antiquity doth square
lee tug at mine olde ink
     quiz hit heave egghead noggin
     heady curiosity shoppe,
asper how lunar place name

     linkedin as rare historical tidbit
thus, when at a loss,
     what to write poem about
an unexpected brainstorm
     found me not to doubt
Google when literary eureka
     came to this lout
(only I own license to debase self)

just on the verge,
     and ready to pout
fearing writer's block
     as if creative juice
     yielded nary a drop from thine figurative
     fountain oft times
     gushing water spout.

As a poetic foot note, aye
frequently ponder about
     millenniums gone by,
and peoples, who
     dotted with graveyards
     of lovely bones after they did die
     the four corners of the globe,

     this twenty first century
     chap doth espy
harem there, a debauched prurient
     hot pocket of mankind
     (woman too of course)

     begetting, fostering, mothering
     ancestors of this guy
retaining genetic characteristics
     that got pooled watering
     survival of the fittest well nigh.
an0nym0us Jun 2018
New place,
New pace.
I'm now ready to face
My new race.

Now I've set my game
I don't care about fame
I wont let anything stop me
I will be who I want to be.

The atmosphere suddenly changed...
The air feels strange....
My heart starts to beat fast
I can't believe this, I saw you at last.

I didn't saw that one comming...
About you, I know nothing...
Meeting you again was unexpected,
Being in the same school was not intended...

Time has passed...
But my feelings still last,
I promise I never felt lust
I can assure you, you can give me your trust.

This is so stupid!!
With you, I got hit hard by cupid...
I don't think this is puppy love...
I guess to you, I truly am inlove.

Im sorry,
There is nothing to worry.
Just stay off my sight,
For you, my feelings, I will stop it and fight.
seriously, I didnt expected that he will be in the same senior high school as I was till I saw him with my own two eyes...
shaynespeare Feb 2018
i used to be alone in a swing
suddenly i heard someone sing
found it was you my zing
bliss is what you bring.
rest of title...Parkland, Fla.,February 14, 2018

One more senseless mass homicide
   twas the sole arbitrary aim
as a former student nonchalantly
   sauntered empty hallways
   seconds preceding blame
brazenly intent to maximize total killed

   matter of factly telling police
   (his incomprehensible)
   (ill) logic he did explain
when cornered, he willingly,
   unflinchingly, reticently admitted guilt

Nikolas Cruz rocketed
   to instantaneous infamous fame
   pulling a fire alarm
   ("FAKE") emergency,

   then going leisurely ambling
   along his killing spree
total of seventeen slain (comprising 3 faculty
   and 14 students)
   mercilessly gunned down
   as if they were wild game

when handcuffed, an innocuous
   19 year old did readily admit
emptying one firearm after another
   at a fairly rapid clip

then at some predestined
   or spurious moment didst dip
and dive out amidst
   the chaotic madding crowd
   before reality flopped then did flip
as lower teeth he nervously bit upper lip

made feeble getaway
   at a nearby eatery casually flirted
   with cashier and made no move to flit
upon his seizure as cornered prey

   subsequently large tract
   massively cordoned off
   strong arm of the law
slightly halting in speech
   detailed his gambit

deliberately staking
   a stance to maximize hit
and once again afflicted parents lit
up with rancor and rage pit

toughly battling sorrow
   which will not quit
til death doth bring peaceful rest
   sans, those grieving family visit.
Camille Alipio Mar 2015
I'm not sorry that I met you.
I'm not sorry that knowing you had made me question everything.
I'm not sorry that whenever I feel down, low, sick, or maybe even dying--
you're the only one who made me feel so alive.
I'm not sorry that I've made a few wrong choices in life,
'coz in the end I made it right with you, I know I did.

I'm not sorry that smiling is my favorite,
'coz you're the reason of this smile.
I'm not sorry that I don't believe in love at first sight,
'coz I believe in that click or zing they called.
I'm not sorry that I'm just continuously falling for you...
each & everyday.
I'm not sorry that I truly knew what love was 'til I met you.

I'm not sorry that I want to travel the world with two things on my hands--a camera on one & your hand on my other.
I'm not sorry that I miss you every second of every day.
I'm not sorry that I am at my happiest now,
'coz of you.
I'm not sorry that I am truly, madly, deeply, unconditionally, passionately, & irrevocably in love with you.
Andrew Wenson Jul 2014
In the oiled vat of sadness
Slip of the tongue
Whimpering in the not-moment
Lost the scent of you

Because…. because, because
Because because was, because is, because will
Was is, will is, then now, you me
Empty vessel make good hat

— The End —