#absract - Hello Poetry

Tuesday years ago, 32 minutes before 5:00, the time where the adopted son of Calliope caught her attention. The moon quickly jumped off between the beats of a human heart, it's vast and bright, unusual and odd but perfect and majestic. Right in the core of the town, lamps fired by itself in blue flames whilst snoozing seeds begin to grow day by day until a new paradise was created. The new town was strange - but heavenly beautiful. Eros' formicas starts falling in line and waiting for the splash of the candy in every ping-pong ticks.

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Oct 17, 2018

Oct 17, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC

jon-jubail-b-aquino

Abrakadabra

Tuesday years ago, 32 minutes before 5:00, the time where the adopted son of Calliope caught her attention. The moon quickly jumped off between the beats of a human heart, it's vast and bright, unusual and odd but perfect and majestic. Right in the core of the town, lamps fired by itself in blue flames whilst snoozing seeds begin to grow day by day until a new paradise was created. The new town was strange - but heavenly beautiful. Eros' formicas starts falling in line and waiting for the splash of the candy in every ping-pong ticks.

23

Is happiness created? My mind is made up There are questions at stake Just looking for those answers Only my ideas can make moves Something only my brain can make Seeing now that it is okay For that is how the game is played Equipped with a bullet proof chest Nothing is about to **** what I create anymore From the days I stray awake To the nights I rest my head Going back in time Seeking out the actions of my mistakes Yet I will not dread on their concepts of hate I will just take what I need And continue past every escape To little time. To much to lose. On this personal conquest That shall carry on to the death of me I have subjected myself to beliefs of conspiracy That very thing was trying to **** me Weakness being that I'm compulsive And that is literally I try to keep my eyes in check Watching their moves As if they were the possible conclusion Speaking so you might say that is a delusion I have no confliction or confusion I'm just holding onto this addiction Of journeying inside my conscious mind As I project a common body The key to my happiness is secrets that push onto progression For the better of myself and those around me.

0

Feb 27, 2017

Feb 27, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC

rachael-bland

Abstract and Distracted

Is happiness created? My mind is made up There are questions at stake Just looking for those answers Only my ideas can make moves Something only my brain can make Seeing now that it is okay For that is how the game is played Equipped with a bullet proof chest Nothing is about to **** what I create anymore From the days I stray awake To the nights I rest my head Going back in time Seeking out the actions of my mistakes Yet I will not dread on their concepts of hate I will just take what I need And continue past every escape To little time. To much to lose. On this personal conquest That shall carry on to the death of me I have subjected myself to beliefs of conspiracy That very thing was trying to **** me Weakness being that I'm compulsive And that is literally I try to keep my eyes in check Watching their moves As if they were the possible conclusion Speaking so you might say that is a delusion I have no confliction or confusion I'm just holding onto this addiction Of journeying inside my conscious mind As I project a common body The key to my happiness is secrets that push onto progression For the better of myself and those around me.

34

Written here lies Death Stolen from thorny bed To ohcre hills supreme Listen, Hark his corny scream. Where ist thy rest Thy nest Thou bubonic plague Thou quenchless drought Thou fierant rage Speaks silent midst of hill Least silent under my windowsill Aught but light takes this cheery gill Not Death’s wide spread Despite it’s fevered ill In many minds doth overtake In simple minds, an earthquake. But gathered in our princely arms.. Big F You to these ailing qualms.

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Apr 24, 2016

Apr 24, 2016 at 11:50 PM UTC

sputter-outlaw

Written here lies Death

Written here lies Death Stolen from thorny bed To ohcre hills supreme Listen, Hark his corny scream. Where ist thy rest Thy nest Thou bubonic plague Thou quenchless drought Thou fierant rage Speaks silent midst of hill Least silent under my windowsill Aught but light takes this cheery gill Not Death’s wide spread Despite it’s fevered ill In many minds doth overtake In simple minds, an earthquake. But gathered in our princely arms.. Big F You to these ailing qualms.

18

One day after walking one day The middle of March I spied a young lady Who drew first a spark Later that night She held out a hand (I held on tight) She caressed my back (and said) “It’ll all be alright, “you’re still here now “that’s all that counts. Replied ‘yea but’ “Thas all that counts” In the restless night I’ve known The restless poet who has sown His vagabondish sheet From cradle to street What a sight for sore eyes The mail that cuts is own lies (eyes) Lies lies lies lies lies (eyes) He lies (lays) But doesn’t sleep The cuckoo bird, well, Doeth cheep Or nightingale Or owl Which bears a ***** scowl ‘in the forests of the night’ Blakenly defying “It’ll all be alright”

0

Apr 24, 2016

Apr 24, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC

sputter-outlaw

First drafts (of ale and dragoons) are always *****

One day after walking one day The middle of March I spied a young lady Who drew first a spark Later that night She held out a hand (I held on tight) She caressed my back (and said) “It’ll all be alright, “you’re still here now “that’s all that counts. Replied ‘yea but’ “Thas all that counts” In the restless night I’ve known The restless poet who has sown His vagabondish sheet From cradle to street What a sight for sore eyes The mail that cuts is own lies (eyes) Lies lies lies lies lies (eyes) He lies (lays) But doesn’t sleep The cuckoo bird, well, Doeth cheep Or nightingale Or owl Which bears a ***** scowl ‘in the forests of the night’ Blakenly defying “It’ll all be alright”

30