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Noor Sep 2013
Canned latte, water, fruit punch Rip-It
Gulp it, down it, chug it, sip it
In the gunner's sling, sway side to side
240B in the cradle, M4 right side

Talk of ***
Talk of food
It's all allowed
Nothing's too crude
Sometimes you talk
Sometimes you listen
Don't talk later 'bout what's said on mission
Check alleyways, balconies, traffic, rooftops
At five miles-an-hour, this convoy never stops

Red Bull, Gatorade, citrus Rip-It
Gulp it, down it, chug it, sip it
In the gunner's sling, sway side to side
240B in the cradle, shotgun left side

In the distance, flashes of white light
Watch them bloom throughout the green night
Was it dust lightning? Was it a bomb?
Don't matter to us, this mission carries on
Two hours to dawn, eight hours 'til we're done
Check balconies, traffic, alleyways, rooftops
At five miles-an-hour, this convoy never stops
Luis Valencia Jul 2018
It was once
In the stillness of night
I saw the eyes of an angel

He watched over me and carried me away
He guided me to mornings
He took my fears away

It was once
I loved a man
A man who was bold

He loved me
He kissed me
He made me feel secure

It was once
I suspected a lie that I realized
It would grow over time

My stomach had begun to churn
Life smacked me from the balconies
Onto the concrete below

It was only once
Those are the words that shot from his lips
The second that he was accused

His face was full of anger
A fist flew too quickly for me to react
A hard hand across a soft cheek

It was once
Then twice
Then three times

It was once
In my home I felt safe
Now im a hostage

Because I forgave him
Because I loved him
Because I needed him I stayed

It was only once
but I let it go on
I never asked him to stop

Now my face has a new bruise
Every night
And he gets what he wants every night

Once I was happy
Now life is ****
the memories of my mother
Anton May 4
a crestfallen fall
rotting chandelier
shatters dive
gardens wived
chunks of wormy apple
with her lungs inbetweens
pigeons buried it
hounds unchained
rows confront the howl
ships collide
settling down the grounds
torches rise

lianas trail through meads
to embar a riptide
into the Coffee Rapid moat
punches in her skull
confetti flew over the trees
she's bit pineapple pudding
but froze as moss moor slime
wet purple grime
backtracking every step

the flame, the go of sables
evening's struck by thunder
the duchess threw her towel
till we saw a midnight plunder
air victim
her daughter's whine of winds
broke spiky arrows
upon citadel towers
daughterdom sigh

ran, still flits on grains
she cherry stone
in robber underwears
niche hid her handtwists
then orc cave village
lulled into nightlife that necklace beat

forsaken beast
in Red Hood's shape and fling
grandmother-gifted headscarf
waves on so terrain stick
- a flag
under the sails
those bay yachts
****** she caught a spider
tarantula fiance weaves
a springy web on pink-in-sunmoon cheeks
she belongs to his cold chin

I'm craftsman
  stuck wide along in this epilogue
the Coffee Town
  breathing balconies and boneyards
this novel sang by mildtown bums
  I put down deep in scratched denim pocket
  in storytelling heap

  damsel fly?
It's about a girl and her impermissive attraction to a boy. When her relatives found out everything about her, they became really mad and furious, and sent the nature servants to put her in a prison after catching. The narrative contains a reference to a girl from no other story  than the 'Red Riding Hood' one. This poem is like that tale but flipped over, put in medieval time then melted by the sun of the night and soared backwards in the purple sky. That's pretty much it.
Kats Jan 27
imagination rules the inhabitable mind
eyes get covered from memories
and filled with dreams
rooms turn into theaters
with giant balconies gently hanging from the walls
through the dense fog, actors appear on stage
they run
romantically dancing they get in position
the Show is about to begin
scenes from the past
scenes from the future
and scenes that are not even meant to be true unravel under the bright orange lights
music is playing and talking has no meaning now
words are launched to the audience but no-one is able to notice
red dresses spin on the wooden floors
magically turning into roses
the pianist
the ancient translator of the spectacle, hypnotizes the listeners
they truly open themselves to him
to his melodic outcry
the night has no ending
no beginning
and words like happiness and love are now reinvented
an unbelievable parallel universe of laughter and joy is being born
no drugs
no alcohol needed
the mind itself is expanding like the universe does
the Show gives it energy
gives it meaning
every emotion, every word and every note can be found during the Show
the stage is on fire
pleasure both to the body and to the mind
viewers can not even comprehend the enlightenment that they are being exposed to
the place seems ready to explode
and just during that moment
a noise
a noise ruins everything
an unpleasant sound drags me
drags you
drags every single person out of the place
throws us violently out of the utopia we have built
the eyes are brought back to the sad reality
a voice sounds
"Are you listening to me??"
Yazad Tafti Apr 18
with every breath you take you inhale a part of my soul
atoms lifting off my face through your windpipe in layers shed like graphite
dyson vacuums are amateurs compared to you
**** me off
black holes don't **** like you do
who ever wants a brainfreeze keep ******* cause you got nothing on her
i get turned on and then you **** me off
i give your oral presentation a B-
the breeze on my pole liberates all tension
i am ***** as buildings have balconies
i am ***** as kites catch wind
i am ***** as pens drip fine, bold, rich ink from their well crafted, metallic, ornamental tips  
i bust all my bad habits on to you, you make sure they never hang around too long, not to get affixed  ...just a taste satisfies
you go as deep as the magnificent swimmers of the ocean
you go as deep as lightsabers do through rebel ****
you go as deep as words cut the pillars fortifying self esteem monuments
satisfaction guaranteed or your beauty back
Nekron Feb 27
Love lost and love lept from balconies
And steps between stoop and pavement and before the floor the thought of becoming better. If only I could dissemble each twine of thought balled in knots to
The next which led to me the spring forth and become the grass,
soil ground from bones and the wood once engrained with beautiful carvings of deer upon a mountside reaching low for morsels
Balconies break but baked what to reach for, what handrail can come so cruel as to pry each finger?

I leave myself and my body with it, I giggle as friends joke about getting high off whippets, I’ve singled out the thoughts which creep. No longer notions of flagellation, each word a bare reminder of fragility to this foundation
of mindfulness.
Lewis Bosworth Oct 2018
the din of one thousand plus
audience members is displaced
as the concertmaster clip-clops
from stage right to center

a fusion of brass and strings
begins its call-to-order by
the woman charged with
bringing chaos to hundreds

of orchestral voices -
a boisterous parade of
timpani vs. flute vs.
bassoon vs. viola

then - silence - then
a moment of expectation -
she enters smiling with
baton under her arm

applause from the low
seats of the orchestra to
the heights of the highest

she mounts the rostrum -
a penguinesque black-
striped uniform topped
by a bob of dark curls

a moment of silence from
the musicians - her hand
points the baton to the
sky - and strikes the air

with the sweep of authority -
a blend of sounds causing
heartbeats to still -
allegro ma non troppo

© Lewis Bosworth, 2018
Olivia Bilocca Nov 2018
Take me to the sea
To the trees
To the soil
To the grass
To the mountains, hills at least

Give me air
For my lungs need to breathe
Indeed they are starving
They are inhaling strongly
To no avail, hardly any air is coming through.

It's crowded, people. All around me.
Full of concrete
I lift my gaze to the sky
But where is it?
I cannot see much
Except for the concrete
The balconies
The high rises

I need space where to run free
In the countryside.
I need to inhale
And feel my lungs fill with crisp fresh air
To give me life.

I cannot connect to the concrete.
It doesn't speak to me
The soil has so much to say
The ocean is loud and chatters on forever
The mountains whisper
The valleys offer comfort
The grass is reviving.

But concrete;
Its heart is dead, it never beat in the first place.

It's spreading fast
And it's slowly crushing me
Suffocating me.
Stela Mar 23
I want someone that will make me fall deeply in love and make me feel all the things that we read in the books.
Someone that will come with me to art galleries and be my inspiration to paint.
Someone with who I will sit on balconies, waiting for the sunset ,and won't ask me why I take photos of it every day because he'll see the beauty of it like I do.
Someone with who laying all day in bed in the winter days ,watching our favorite movies it's going to be enough.
Someone with who I can get drunk and dance all night to our favorite songs.
Someone that will stay awake with me counting the stars and talking about our deepest desires and fears.
Someone who will travel around the world with me and visit every city we have ever dreamed of.
Someone with who there won't be anything more perfect than coffee and pancakes in the morning.
Someone with who I won't be scared to let all my devils out.
Someone who won't make me wonder how they feel about me.
Someone who will understand me.
Someone who won't make me feel like I'm not good enough.
Someone who will believe in me even when I don't .
Someone who will make me forget all the problems and will make me truly happy.
But that someone is too perfect to be more than a dream. Isn't it?

— The End —