#sickle
life is a revolver and the trigger goes off unexpectedly
and i've been stuck inside a shell for far too long love
don't you know that my walls cave in sometimes
and at the hospital i just stare at my reflection to cry
at those empty eyes and loose medical gown falling
i think the both of us are the most extroverted introverts
to ever walk this isolated rock of life called Earth
i really don't blame you for having trust issues either
i am scared to open up to anyone sometimes
something inside me died when you had an attack
cause i thought you were gone and you were all i had
so when you called me to call the ambulance
i had to bite my lip to stop my body from shaking
so i could spit out your address to the operator
i hated putting you on hold even though i needed to
and i switched back to your call as soon as i could
until i began to hear less of your desperate breathing
it was fading just like my hopes that you'd stay alive
i kept on repeating that you were going to be okay
but that was the only thing i could really think to say
because i swear to God i thought you were dying
and there was nothing either of us could do about it
i feel like life just chose to punch you in the face
and then cut open the swollen bruise for the hell of it
i've been hurt before but not like you have
and it isn't a competition i promise
but you really are the boy who lived
you were told you'd DIE two attacks ago
and yet here you are still existing
even though for some GOD **** reason
life keeps trying to destroy you
your ****** ex told you to k*** yourself
so you forgave without forgetting
your dad didn't care to know you
and you want to be a good father
the other foster kids start problems
you choose to make them laugh later
your condition keeps you off the team
you decide to treat their wounds
your sisters decide to fight with you
you continue to love them
money gets really scarce
you decide to help a friend out
your mom gets incarcerated
you join the police cadets
your heart STOPS
you begin BREATHING
you asked me why i love you
well...
you can't truly love someone best
until you've seen them at their worst
and despite the fact that
your life IS the worst
(no offense love)
you handle it not best...
BUT BEAUTIFULLY
Now that, is why I LOVE YOU.
(well, it's the main reason)
(there's more but we'd be here forever)
goodnight babe
EMK & KAJ
4.20.2026
Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 12:11 AM UTC
Reapeth the withered with a tear laden cheek, plucketh the ripe with a laugh of pride,
his own lass , would daughter second be known,
such care he hath cherished , for the soil and its sown.
from the foul of weather-weed, to the stare of corvid eyes,
canst he protect and flourish his land,
but gets stabbed by a dagger , of the papers he signed,
with the count, with the lender ,
with the crown , with the dealer.
Mar 12
Mar 12, 2026 at 4:02 AM UTC
It's Halloween!
by Michael R. Burch
If evening falls
on graveyard walls
far softer than a sigh;
if shadows fly
the sickled sky,
while children toss their heads
uneasy in their beds,
beware the witch's eye!
If goblins loom
within the gloom
till playful pups grow terse;
if birds give up their verse
to comfort chicks they nurse,
while children dream weird dreams
of ugly, wiggly things,
beware the serpent's curse!
If spirits scream
in haunted dreams
while ancient sibyls rise
to plague nightmarish skies
one night without disguise,
while children toss about
uneasy, full of doubt,
beware the Devil's lies . . .
it's Halloween!
Keywords/Tags: Halloween, graveyard, shadows, sickle, moon, witch, witches, goblins, serpents, spirits, ghosts, sibyls, Devil
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 5:32 AM UTC
You hang there, a
yellow sickle
and float white
around me.
Moon, you fog me
in winters, and
Dazzle in summer.
In between you hide....
Black
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 6:06 AM UTC
Though a wimpy, tiny, and puny
(smaller than a breadbox) Ogre
whereat my portable minuscule
fingerhut size adobe abode ex
posed to Strunk and White raw
grammatical elements of style,
I counted Flip (Wilsonian) view,
to camouflage myself anytime
and anywhere as significant add
vantages. The obvious down side
(i.e. severe limitations to pull off
major coup) forced me to axe
paunches pilot while taking a chopper
if I van nah miniaturize daring deed
(done dirt cheap) reconfigured,
retouched, recorded by Das scribe
named Magnum Opus. Indeed,
this chance to golong (equivalent
of Olympic gold) foretold peering
into granule size barren crystal ball.
Preliminary steps undertaken
to pull off impossible mission;
mo' difficult than a blind man
taking eighty steps to Honah
infiltrating 70+ shades of gray area
prime Donald Trump real estate.
A priority prevailed to act on
the QT (q-tip) lest cover get blown,
and suspicious communique encrypted
to gal lobe trotting henchmen.
Urgency spurred daring deed,
cuz targeted subject in question
(majority population counted
as debouched, delirious, and
demonstrably dangerous
demagogue, in short a "FAKE"
president! Security details
(like stray cats on the prowl),
could sniff out ploy to re
program depraved, deranged,
and detached supposed Master
at helm. His audacity, effrontery,
and isolationist iffy ideology
placed him squarely as half baked
cookie monstrosity against
United States Commander in Chief.
First order of business necessitated
tranquilizing this doughty, haughty
enemy of the Lumpenproletariat!
Renown chemist friends of mine
(actually War tin buddies) alias
Diet Coke and/or Diet Pepsi
secured an ampule Taj Mahal
~ circa 1631vintage. One ampule
viz pill could knock out a giant –
sans, Jack and the beanstalk fame.
No ifs, and or bots, the secret
got pulled off without spilling
figurative (jelly) beans. Once
inside auditory labyrinth, I
immediately noticed striking
deus ex machina ***** riot ting
resemblance to microscopic cave.
A thick baad *** sieve sludge
of cerumen sis tah
(waxy substance) deaf finitely
posed an initial dilemma,
which audio slave solution
entailed collaboration to build
a toothpick fence. Pensiveness
unexpectedly found subject
reflexively scratching, poking,
and jabbing inadvertently
finding me toward ground zero.
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
Indian people are very traditional,
Still they will move with the trend,
Few Indians will often be bipolar.
First they tickle you the hardest,
As bad to trickle down your tears,
Then they change all of a sudden.
Let their fickle-minds deceive you,
You let the sickle-minds hurt you,
Such examples are there but few.
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC