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#poeticjustice
Azure silhouettes peaked against the horizon Born from the sky’s last testament Of rays beaming and accentuating The subtle curves and vestments That expressed their innate beauty In the form of love with contentment As her eyes soaked in the sight Azure bled to crimson at the day's Dying light Yet the fight is far from over As she battled up the climbs With wars and steps aplenty Shared with her heart and mind It is there That the endless foothills roll A memory of togetherness Unafraid to unfold In the face of freedom unburdened Her story is now hers to hold For she is azure like the sky And I, The crimson before the night Together we paint a mountain sunset With a love that will never die
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Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 1:58 PM UTC
Mountain Sunset
Through crepuscular trials and vigil’s toll, The Scion carved fate in aureate scroll. A child of lore, tempestuous flame, Her saga inked in stars unnamed. The cosmos murmured, “Ascend, ignite,” She rose a cipher of scholar’s rite. Each tome she turned, each theorem sown, Her fervor flared, her soul full-grown. She reached the verge of promised grace, With hands unsoiled, with measured pace. One breath away from laureled claim, A diadem carved in honor’s name. But serpents hissed in cloistered shade, A pact was penned, her path mislaid. Not vanquished by flaw nor faltered might, But by the veiled who veil the light. A patriarch’s whisper, a tyrant’s jest, Her name expunged, her truth suppressed. No trumpet blared, no gavel fell, Just silence deep a stolen spell. The Scion did not wail nor rend the air, She stood unmade in just despair. A revenant of dreams once crowned, Now wandering where wrongs resound. “How does one breathe when justice chokes? When merit drowns in gilded cloaks? If dreams can die by silent scheme, Then power mocks, and truth blasphemes.” Her fate entombed in hush profound, Yet echoes rise from burial ground. For wings once clipped shall cleave the sky, And justice knock where lies deny.
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Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 8:54 PM UTC
Threnody for the Unthroned: A Dirge in Dactylic Ash —in memory of merit betrayed
काश उस दिन उसका भी कोई भाई होता, आज वो सितारा हमारे बीच ज़िंदा होता। काश कोई उसे जाकर बचा लेता, कम से कम उसका तो ख़ून न बहता। नरभक्षी भेड़ियों ने ली थी उसकी जान, छोड़ा था उसे वहीं तड़पता, लहूलुहान। चिल्लाती रही वो उसी जगह पर, न जाने कितने ही जुल्म हुए थे उस पर। नारी को निर्वस्त्र करने का परिणाम – इस भूमि ने महाभारत देखा था। धिक्कार है ऐसे समाज पर – उसी भूमि ने आज यह अपराध देखा था। जल रही हैं मोमबत्तियां शोक व्यक्त करने, आंदोलन कर रहे हैं लोग और दे रहे हैं धरने। क्या इस बार होगा उन दरिंदों पर कठिन शासन, या फिर एक बार उभरेगा एक नया दुःशासन?
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Jul 11, 2025
Jul 11, 2025 at 3:02 AM UTC
काश उस दिन उसका भी कोई भाई होता
You think this is a tantrum? Child This is the wrath of gods who waited centuries before they raised their hand. I am not your wounded girl. I am Nemesis unchained, Kali in stillness before the storm. My silence was mercy. You mistook it for peace. I do not wail. I summon. I do not flinch. I fracture. Your name is already ash on the altar of my patience. I offered grace. Now I offer consequence. Run if you like. Pray if you must. But even Olympus learned no one walks away from a goddess enraged.
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May 19, 2025
May 19, 2025 at 12:16 AM UTC
Nemesis, Awakened
The sky wears my grief in a veil of storm clouds, Each thunderclap an elegy, each lightning bolt a verdict. Even if you wash away the crimson stains, The echoes of your sins will never fade. Why does sorrow weave my fate into thorn-laden tapestries? Did my cries kiss your ears, or did you weave silence as a shield? You shattered me into constellations of agony, Each droplet a relic of your unatoned sins. The valleys yawn like ancient wounds, Rivers of rubies spill through their veins, While mountains rise as merciless titans, Laughing at my feeble hands that cannot scale their spines. The fire you kindled consumed more than my flesh— Only ashes remain, whispers of a tragedy embalmed in wind. Yet my soul lingers, a wraith woven from anguish, Drifting between dusk and dawn, pleading for reckoning. Lost in the labyrinth of wailing willows, I hunger for justice, Yet solitude devours me like a specter feasting on the guilty. You were the beast cloaked in borrowed skin, A shadow masquerading as light—could you not be human for a breath? Justice rides the chariot of time, relentless as the tide. Soon, the wind shall carry the taste of your own venom, And the stars will script your downfall in the language of the gods.
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Mar 30, 2025
Mar 30, 2025 at 11:58 AM UTC
Whispers Of The Forsaken Forest
sticking to my guns, i never realized that they’re pointing at me.
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Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 12:46 AM UTC
my guns
ready or not, here i come. count your blessings, find the sum - of all the tears that’re due to flow from a corner of your heart you didn’t even know existed before; now open the door; embrace your mortality - let it purge your core of all the notions that vexed your spirit, and, twisted your mind, well - not anymore. i’ve come to show you the only way out;   ‘take it or leave it’ - i’m leaving with you, or without. have you no clue   how profound the disease is? - it’ll take a while to pick up the broken pieces. sleep shall be but a fleeting dream. oh yes, it’s a wicked scheme. i’ve come to search your soul like a sleuth;   i’m your fateful reckoning - your ******* moment of truth.
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Dec 9, 2024
Dec 9, 2024 at 10:56 PM UTC
moment of truth
don’t think you’ll get away with this! you pushed an innocent soul into the abyss. ‘sacrilege’, i say - what a terrible way… to enslave a wounded angel; pluck away at its shrewd feathers; torture it for wits; and for what? some cheeky wordplay?   how could you! how dare you watch it bleed -   through the trappings of your greed. have you no pity? have you no mercy? are you so bereft of compassion, that you’d go so far as to maim a messenger of God, just to have what you need? let it out, i say! let it free. none of this is fair, i know… i agree! but you never had the right - to steal the light: from a spirit so bright, in the stillness of the night.   it’ll all be forgotten, should you accept the blame. perhaps, find a piece of rock to maim. not a soul so benign, even in such misery it prays -   ‘forgive him for his sins, my Lord, for i have done the same.’
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Nov 27, 2024
Nov 27, 2024 at 11:28 AM UTC
unforgiven
If you had a dream in the real world I believe your love for the word.
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Aug 22, 2021
Aug 22, 2021 at 4:27 AM UTC
Can heal - Haiku
Sometimes a fall is the universe's way of telling you that you aren't grounding yourself enough, that all you need is to centre yourself against the earth in order for a balance to find its way to you. Often, we put up the worst fights when we fall, simply because we assume it is belittling, and in rushing to get back on our feet, we miss the lessons of the significance behind that fall... Time is often most telling in the most unorthodox ways, so when you fall, allow your rise to be at a pace where you know that your feet will help you stand firm.
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Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 8:44 PM UTC
The fall of ascension
Wipe me down Inside out Turn the music up to drown Me out Liberated women but no words come out. Make me shiny, better than before/ This is the better way Even maple trees, those of pine Aspen, cherry, and oak My rawness was beautiful, but needed a different touch Wipe me down Outside in, I can't remember who I was Before- Render to silence or invasive compliance Our mothers are seeds of time Having branches they want to climb Now that I'm older- Polish Me Down I am a woman before my time. ~Bre Womble 5/30/2020
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May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 11:59 PM UTC
Polish Me
Listen, it's been so long that I've lost my ink With no canvas to splatter my thoughts run amok These words I exhale are like a faucet because I let my teeth sink Into the rhythmic blues that were once confiscated when the past broke my future clock So why'd I get confused? My eyes were on an unbelievable prize or so I'd thought I lost what made me feel amused Now the ball's back in my court, there's no time to lay up when I could 360 this basketball like a good sport But it's not because I made one shot It's because I had one shot But then my clock tick-tocked Now I need a new wrist watch Because my hourglass stopped and the small hand dropped off Now I got myself caught up in the pain Because this devastation must be planetary Like how Kakashi won't be able to see Rinn-egan So imagine Kurenai looking at Asuma in the cemetery They often asked us If a flower bloomed in a dark room would you trust it But I still don't get what's all the fuss Because they never told us if a thorn bush would kick the bucket However that's a story for another episode Or at least until I can find some new batteries for my remote *** in all honesty I’m straying away from my code But I’m still reaching for my dreams and no matter how hard they drift away they stay afloat I can't complain because everyone hurts Life was just another challenge So I before I could be picked up I had to get knocked down first Because I wasn't born with a silver spoon, for these tools I had to scavenge I had one dream too many, nothing one cloud could hold Thought I'd grow up to be a famous figure, you know somewhat iconic So how is it possible such a shy kid made moves so big and bold I wanted be a professional singer, dancer, footballer, and scientist but I found a muse in poetry, now isn't that ironic I'd take a passion over money any day I don't wanna be like one of those celebrity sell-outs Because what you love and desire brings a bigger pay I'd ring my Victree-bell and tell the story of how I was once a bellsprout My ink and my canvas Treasures I said I lost, not one but both Til I went down the road to recovery, it made me feel so anxious Then I realized with a pen and piece of paper anyone can write a poetic note I was once a victim to society My mind got penetrated by their voices I suffered heavily from depression and anxiety They broke my psyche so I started making the wrong choices I plead innocent, it wasn't my fault Yet I believed otherwise They held the key to my dead bolt My voice was too little and that was my greatest demise That's just the carbon to the coke So don't believe what stands before you I'm standing asleep looking woke A po guy seeing a panda do Kung fu Dora taught me life's just another platform to go out and explore Así mís amigos don't be afraid to reveal your poetic brilliance Because I think I found the real me I've been looking for It was lost til I caught it somewhere in the distance
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Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 12:40 AM UTC
Caught In The Distance
Listen, it's been so long that I've lost my ink With no canvas to splatter my thoughts run amok These words I exhale are like a faucet because I let my teeth sink Into the rhythmic blues that were once confiscated when the past broke my future clock So why'd I get confused? My eyes were on an unbelievable prize or so I'd thought I lost what made me feel amused Now the ball's back in my court, there's no time to lay up when I could 360 this basketball like a good sport But it's not because I made one shot It's because I had one shot But then my clock tick-tocked Now I need a new wrist watch Because my hourglass stopped and the small hand dropped off Now I got myself caught up in the pain Because this devastation must be planetary Like how Kakashi won't be able to see Rinn-egan So imagine Kurenai looking at Asuma in the cemetery They often asked us If a flower bloomed in a dark room would you trust it But I still don't get what's all the fuss Because they never told us if a thorn bush would kick the bucket However that's a story for another episode Or at least until I can find some new batteries for my remote *** in all honesty I’m straying away from my code But I’m still reaching for my dreams and no matter how hard they drift away they stay afloat I can't complain because everyone hurts Life was just another challenge So I before I could be picked up I had to get knocked down first Because I wasn't born with a silver spoon, for these tools I had to scavenge I had one dream too many, nothing one cloud could hold Thought I'd grow up to be a famous figure, you know somewhat iconic So how is it possible such a shy kid made moves so big and bold I wanted be a professional singer, dancer, footballer, and scientist but I found a muse in poetry, now isn't that ironic I'd take a passion over money any day I don't wanna be like one of those celebrity sell-outs Because what you love and desire brings a bigger pay I'd ring my Victree-bell and tell the story of how I was once a bellsprout My ink and my canvas Treasures I said I lost, not one but both Til I went down the road to recovery, it made me feel so anxious Then I realized with a pen and piece of paper anyone can write a poetic note I was once a victim to society My mind got penetrated by their voices I suffered heavily from depression and anxiety They broke my psyche so I started making the wrong choices I plead innocent, it wasn't my fault Yet I believed otherwise They held the key to my dead bolt My voice was too little and that was my greatest demise That's just the carbon to the coke So don't believe what stands before you I'm standing asleep looking woke A po guy seeing a panda do Kung fu Dora taught me life's just another platform to go out and explore Así mís amigos don't be afraid to reveal your poetic brilliance Because I think I found the real me I've been looking for It was lost til I caught it somewhere in the distance
Continue reading...
57
Jay. He was a nineteen year old high school dropout. He was black. He wore his hair in dreads. He had a few nose rings. He wore gold chains and expensive clothes. He went partying every night. He got drunk on alcohol but his drug addiction was the biggest problem. He had a lot of friends. Because he was ‘cool’. He was the ‘man’. Gray. He was 18, finishing his final school year. He was white. He wore his hair very short. He had large round glasses, sitting lopsided on his nose. He wore a long sleeved shirt and trousers. He studied hard, and he got good marks. He played the cello in the school band. But he was gay. And so he didn’t have any friends. But he had his family who he loved dear and who loved him back. He was happy. The differences between the two are unbelievable. They are nothing alike; they are complete opposites. Yet, they are human. They walk the same streets, at different times. They both live on the same planet, if not the same world. They both have a right to live. They both have people who love them, despite all they are. It’s their differences that make Jay and Gray human. Both of them. Until Jay raised his gun and fired three times at Gray. That’s when Gray was lost to humanity. And Jay had lost his humanity. Coz Jay shot in the chest a boy named Gray Killed him without giving him any say, The boy who did no wrong, but was gay, With his life, he had to pay. His family cried in despair and dismay, For their loving son had been taken away, And now they all sat in silence, For Gray would never see another day. For souls who have had their lives ripped apart, and those who rip their lives apart, we pray.
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
A story of our differences and what makes us human
Jay. He was a nineteen year old high school dropout. He was black. He wore his hair in dreads. He had a few nose rings. He wore gold chains and expensive clothes. He went partying every night. He got drunk on alcohol but his drug addiction was the biggest problem. He had a lot of friends. Because he was ‘cool’. He was the ‘man’. Gray. He was 18, finishing his final school year. He was white. He wore his hair very short. He had large round glasses, sitting lopsided on his nose. He wore a long sleeved shirt and trousers. He studied hard, and he got good marks. He played the cello in the school band. But he was gay. And so he didn’t have any friends. But he had his family who he loved dear and who loved him back. He was happy. The differences between the two are unbelievable. They are nothing alike; they are complete opposites. Yet, they are human. They walk the same streets, at different times. They both live on the same planet, if not the same world. They both have a right to live. They both have people who love them, despite all they are. It’s their differences that make Jay and Gray human. Both of them. Until Jay raised his gun and fired three times at Gray. That’s when Gray was lost to humanity. And Jay had lost his humanity. Coz Jay shot in the chest a boy named Gray Killed him without giving him any say, The boy who did no wrong, but was gay, With his life, he had to pay. His family cried in despair and dismay, For their loving son had been taken away, And now they all sat in silence, For Gray would never see another day. For souls who have had their lives ripped apart, and those who rip their lives apart, we pray.
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44
The worst ache went through As mind tried to escape the body. I stand still Yet, exploding. I’m losing battle To myself.
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Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
Sane.
I took the dress off And there you saw Constellations on my skin, All the stars, Backwards of my loving Every part of you. All my feels imprinted here Collarbone in scars.
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Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
Collarbone.
Hideous creature, Monster in the flesh Living in your mind, Feeding of your veins. You raised it Darkest shade of black Hatred in your heart.
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Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 1:40 PM UTC
Monster.
Who we are To interfere with Universe? And ruin the paths She had destined for us. In our very own selfishness Blinding the truth We’re not meant to be together.
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Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 11:34 AM UTC
Fortune.
Irony The other word for Karma also known as Poetic Justice
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Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 12:53 PM UTC
Paradox
Is it immoral of me or just mortal of me, that i want you more than the heavens . . .
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Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 1:08 AM UTC
Mortality
* words creates strings of emotions, it connects from one reader to the other. *
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Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 9:11 AM UTC
Poetic strings
Listen to Things More often than Beings Hear the voice of fire Hear the voice of water Listen in the wind To the sigh of the bush This is the ancestors breathing Those who are dead are not ever gone They are in the darkness that grows lighter And in the darkness that grows darker The dead are not down in the earth They are in the trembling of the trees In the groaning of the woods In the water that runs In the water that sleeps They are in the hut, They are in the crowd The dead are not dead.
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
Les souffles (Breaths/Spirits)
I am no longer master of my time Master of these greynesses of time What flowers can I weave for Emmett Till the child whose soul in mine lies bleeding.... I die alone from pride I leave to Emmett Till his death from horror at myself
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
"Burden of Memory, Muse of Forgiveness"
Some might call it Karma          And for some it could be Fate           Or perhaps a Poison Apple         that you didn't know you'd ate              It could be I used Magic            and I cast a few Dark Spells           and perhaps a Poison Potion           or a Demon Curse from Hell           I might have asked a Genie            in a bottle for his wishes          or asked a nasty Witch to help            with pretend Princess kisses I could have summoned Moaning Ghouls       who'll haunt you in your sleep       or coaxed a Vampire from his lair               to bite you really deep            While all this could be true               as Fairy Tales might seem                but trust me when I say             this nightmare's not a dream               You're feeling really bad               your life is such a mess             I slaughtered you with ink             that is laid upon your chest              My words they still linger          like the banshees in your head            to haunt your every thought          with the sweat that fills your bed              Her names Poetic Justice                 her poison is my pen           and you might be quite terrified                while I am feeling Zen            Of course you know that she          is best when she's served cold           to keep you all the company         you need when you are old         Now your life is crumbling down          from wicked lies that past those lips                It wasn't even a challenge                       for these poetic                         ....    fingertips Cherie Nolan © All Rights Reserved 2016
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 10:44 PM UTC
"Poetic Justice"
Some might call it Karma          And for some it could be Fate           Or perhaps a Poison Apple         that you didn't know you'd ate              It could be I used Magic            and I cast a few Dark Spells           and perhaps a Poison Potion           or a Demon Curse from Hell           I might have asked a Genie            in a bottle for his wishes          or asked a nasty Witch to help            with pretend Princess kisses I could have summoned Moaning Ghouls       who'll haunt you in your sleep       or coaxed a Vampire from his lair               to bite you really deep            While all this could be true               as Fairy Tales might seem                but trust me when I say             this nightmare's not a dream               You're feeling really bad               your life is such a mess             I slaughtered you with ink             that is laid upon your chest              My words they still linger          like the banshees in your head            to haunt your every thought          with the sweat that fills your bed              Her names Poetic Justice                 her poison is my pen           and you might be quite terrified                while I am feeling Zen            Of course you know that she          is best when she's served cold           to keep you all the company         you need when you are old         Now your life is crumbling down          from wicked lies that past those lips                It wasn't even a challenge                       for these poetic                         ....    fingertips Cherie Nolan © All Rights Reserved 2016
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42
We are African descendants. Glorify your ***** ***** hair. Don't shrink and cower in fear. Own yourself The sun kissed and blessed you. Accept that your hair won't be straight and silky. We are African Descendants.
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
Black Beauty