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Logan Robertson Aug 2018
those **** trolls fish for gloom
baiting your roses and bloom
behind their mask and costume
a guise filled with malice loom
there spans from the beasts womb
a monster preying your doom
they take your light to dark displume
like fishes facing the jaws of gloom
eliot watches schools get entomb
like a stepping stone to their fume
it takes no rocket scientist's broom
to sweep the trolls from the classroom
nears the hour of our death, trolls resume

Logan Robertson

8/21/2018
I wrote this poem very impromptu, almost with a giggle like motivation. I was smitten with the attention it's receiving however how I wished it was divided, and a poem like, A Workplace Rendezvous (which I like more than this poem), received a peak (wordplay!)_
Umi Mar 2018
To its mistresses wish, the blade dances through till she has been pleased, leaving a mess by engraving the scars of death as a mark, Alike a shadow she does not crack, cavorting a masacre of cruelty,
Berserking she follows the orders, shedding blood in fountains of death and misery without chance for this rage to stop without order,
Emotionless, cold, time is for her to stop moving when her ****** devotion consumes her entirely, swaying in the dark, destroying,
Tortured with true or false everyone disappears, time flows again,
A phantom glides over the sea of blood, in a mist, scarlet red,
Observing this would cause a riot of emotions to rage in pure fury,
Her name already burnt away, as a new one was given to her after this rumpus had found its peak, leaving the mistress in bliss, joy,
Watching their attemps to flee as they reach their dying moments,
Until those who get to close have perished, nobody and nothing left,
Cricling karma surely will catch them, after this sacrifice is done,
Warm blood melts the left over snow, laughter echos and reverbrates through the unending seeming night, bells ring, it is only midnight.
In the end her loyalty and efforts, her energy and love for her mistress
Are but a ****** devotion

~ Umi
s Oct 2018
i looked in my mirror and saw you in the reflection
all battered and ****** and clearly infected

by the demons who sought to poison you each night
and the venom i'd spit whenever we'd fight

so now you treat me as your ***** secret
but i'm not some drug that you can keep hidden

and i won't stand here, alone and awaiting
a love that is pure, because i am not patient

still, since you've left it only ever rains
as i stand outside drenched in my own shame

cause you used to kiss me extra ******* these days
           you used to kiss me extra ******* these days
wake up vomiting
wake up alone
who knew this love
would turn heart to stone
it's much too late
to ever atone
for all that is lost.

i'm already gone.
Iska Feb 2018
'Why is it so painful to grow?'

A seed.
Just a seed buried under the ground.
Under the pressure of the soil,
It fights to grow.

The seed cracks,
such a sturdy little seed,
opens with a painful snap.

A sprout coils out.
Out of the cracked little seed.
A sprout now crushed under,
Under the pressure of the unforgiving ground.

Yet still... It grows.

A little sprout,
Now reaches up.
Up and away from the little seed,
and up to the light of the sun.

Pushing and groaning it bursts out.
Out from the unforgiving ground.
Yet now new dangers are to be found.

Will it be trampled
Or eaten alive?
The possibilities are endless,
The ways it could die.

And still.. it grows.

The sprout toils endlessly,
always stretching and growing
Reaching for the crimson sun.

The rain falls down
beating upon the sprout.
Pelting it's skin and whipping it about.
It skin hardens painfully,
and sprout becomes stem.

And still It grows.
The stem keeps reaching,
Stretching to the sky.

The stem then splits
It rips in two a bud appears
A little bud,
With so much to do.

Then the bud breaks
A crack appears
a petal unfurls from within.

Then it's a bloom.
Such a sweet little thing.
Until the crack stretches
So the bloom can grow
In to the beautiful rose
We've all come to know.

And still.. it grows.

Thorns burst free
Breaking out of the stem
And petals billow and grow in the breeze.

Then you see me,
And my beauty delights you,
So you wish to see me every day.
And your scissors encircle me
To give you your way.

They cut me in half.
They slice me in two.
being a rose,
There was naught I could do.

You carry me with you,
Your hands coated in my blood,
I'm dying slowly,
All for your love.

And now... I can't grow.

So as I bleed and wither in pain,
You place me in a vase
Or press me in a book,
All to save the bloom for another day.

And as I gasp for air,
Among your dry pages,
You leech me of all life,
Perfectly preserved
just so I could last the ages.

Or else I am drowning
In glass and water
My beauty wasted
hour by hour
Day by day
All to satisfy your whimsical ways.

And now all I wish to know,
'Why is it so painful to grow?'
English Jam Apr 2018
Mountains on mountains erupt from the earth's chambers of burdened lava and collapse back into their hellish landscape just as quickly

Waves assault the beach in frenzied randomness, striking their mark upon the sand and washing it away in the same breath

Birds flail about, learning to sail the clouds while dolphins soar their vast expanse of golden sea

People in suits war with each other for ****** glory, sign a strip of paper agreeing to stop, then ignorantly carry on their violent pastiche

Far away, tucked behind his world of scattered phrases and pretentious works of art, the writer observes all this

P
R
O
C
R
A
S
T
I
N
A
T
I
N
G
Osiria Melody Feb 23
Amazing how a text message conveying
affection
Regarded as a few lines of dejection
Amazing how a photo of joviality,
Regarded as a—fallacy
Amazing how a video of life's best moments,
Ignites a fire of jealousy, a ring of volcanic
comments surging with scorching words

Amazing how my likes and comments strikes
another's conscience,
Belittling their importance since being popular
means everything
Having the most followers means being a valid
member of society
Amazing how the fame of being a social media
phenomenon is the best thing in the world,
Nothing could replace the missed connection that
you and I share

Among the shared posts and counterfeit feelings of
emojis,
We lose what it means to connect to one another
personally
Rather than living in life's moments selflessly,
Everything is about me, me, me
Not you, 'cause my posts matter more for my
self-esteem

A missed connection of what reality means,
Above the ubiquitous screens emitting blue light,
Fill in all of these captured memories
Not through a glowing device, but through eyes of
authenticity
Experiencing what it means to cross the bridge between
an idealized world to mundane

A missed connection of what reality means
For once, put down that screen and live in reality
with me



Melody
2/23/19
It's not very fun conversing with someone in-person when they're on their phone.
Iska Feb 2018
The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With ****** feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?

What more do you want
Of my sorry soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?

So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.

My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and ******,
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?

I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?

Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to hell
All because I could not tell.

Should I weep in pain,
And slave away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."

Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.

I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.
Some times it's just not enough.
Lizzy Sep 2014
Shrink yourself
Oh she's fading away
Hold her bones together
As the movies play

When a diet becomes an addiction
I felt myself give in
My mind was hooked on these
Skinny thoughts

Bones dance in my dreams
And I couldn't be shaken awake
Yes I'll be skinny like the others
Beautiful like I want

But there's nothing beautiful
About your hair falling out
And passing out and hitting your head
And freezing in the summer
And constantly falling asleep

There's nothing cute about
***** in your hair
And on your clothes
****** noses
And aching bones

Nothing glamorous behind that bathroom door
Just a stupid girl
With her head stuck half way down the pipes
Yuki Feb 13
I deprive my heart
of blood for I write
these verses with it
in the hope it would
merge with yours
the moment you see
my heart is meaningless
if you spurn my love.
Sara Kellie Dec 2017
******* barking and let me in,
Check the form,
I wreak of sin,
Where's your Master,
the man in red,
Tell him I'm here,
I'm finally dead,

Those ******* people and their lies,
so full of ****,
I do despise,
I couldn't take it anymore.
My body, I've left it on the floor,
Well, what's left is no good,
It's all covered in blood
and how do I feel?
I feel ******* good!

They smiled at my eyes
and lied to my ears,
They think I don't know,
I've known it for years,
I wrote them a note
and sealed it away,
That note is still here
to this very day.

****** poetry by
Kaydee.
8 years on and that note is still here. Along with other truths that will live on long after I'm gone.
Written with a specific purpose. To accompany the envelope titled
'Dear Voyeurs, Part 8
For Beauty's Maiden Name he can Compose
And hope that your Legacy will ever Live
This Shimmering Petal which he dares Un-Fold
Will by Clock's End endear with your Harmony.
Why in the Fifth Summer Month we Praise the Womb
Responsible for the Songs we hear Today
Whilst the Toll's Hand turns from Cradle to Tomb
Your Best Song can chant the Goblins away
And perhaps if I try to Improve my Lot
Then avoid the ****** Record of Defeat
He is your Story; This I almost Forgot
And the Name once-spoken will again Repeat.
With this I Commit, Beauty's Maiden Name
Your Feathers un-changing; Your Spirit Remain.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Debbie Brindley Aug 2018
My heart is breaking
Can you not hear
****** tears weep silently
today
life is to hard to bare
Through shattered shards
pockets of sadness
seep in
darkness creeps deeper
under my skin
Run from these feelings
but go where
My heart is breaking

This life's Harsh Lesson
Well yeah

IT'S HERE

In my face
Poking holes in my personal space
It hurts so bad when unable to fix
When life throws tragedy
into the mix
My heart is breaking
What can I do
Nothing
But be here
beside the one I hold true
Feeling sad
stefan badham Nov 2017
stinking Western dentist
and his stinking ******* gun
allowed to **** old lions
just for ******* fun
another ******* trophy
another ******* collar
another grubby ******* fist
holding another grubby dollar
tigers butchered
the filthy ivory trade
the market overseas
all slaughtered and slayed
all brought to their knees
for some Chinese
who think a bit of murdered zoology
will cure his lack of virility
and in so-called civilised society
the fox gets cornered
terrified
out of breath
by ******* who show no mercy
and enjoy inflicting death
those that are beyond words
ryn Oct 2014
On this carousel
You and I
Ringing bells
Time passes by

Scorching bulbs
Ornate bobbing horsies
Enchanting music
Tell of magical stories

I am here
On this side
You are there
Same ****** ride

Opposite ends
Placed we two
We can't see
But each other we knew

Friendly peeks
Directed to you
All I could afford
Keep you in view

Still rotating
Ride goes on
Chasing each other
No closer we've drawn

Enjoy the ride
Soak in the sights
Hold at bay
Reality that bites

Thought about
Getting off
Don't know how to
Come to a solve

Can't hold still
It's eating me alive
Can't just stay
Have to strive

Hand still holding on
One foot dangling
Second thoughts play
But bent on releasing

Take the first step
Don't overthink
Take the leap
Step off the brink

Close my eyes
Time is now
Just let go
Fate I must allow

Ready now
Time came to a freeze
one...two...
three...release


Now off the carousel
Cloying uncertainty
Never been here
Unknown territory

In the music
Found familiarity
Unsure if here
Is where I want to be

What do I do?
Wait a little more?
Hop back on?
Or await what's in store?

Glad I waited
Glad patience I found
There you are...
Coming back round
Madness plays in loops...
A sick little spin on the carousel.
I admit the Pressures you Three must pass
Your own Barometres took quite a toll
From Stubborn Demands your ****** Peers had
Compel you to Shrink and keep on a Roll
But there are VALUES; Those Trusted Elders
In Humble Present their Words will sure Guide
All you need is some Time for yourselves, Brothers
Such that its Petals will unwrap for your Sight
Kind and apt Admiral! May your Shoes fill
Set their Braces to walk they know can Trust
So even if Hooties make Milk-Thoughts spill
A Shielding Light to soap their Dunged Shells, must.
This is just an Advice. Again from a Friend
Whose busy Torrents tries to Help does rend.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Life rotates in an orbit in which axis is society.
Caged in a society rule... It feels like chopping the wings of a bird
Scandal and Silence the Theme of the Night
When his Dive scorned my Innocence with him
The Endearing One was there - Red in sight,
Marking the Troll for his Disgusting Whim
Which I would agree if Extent permits
The Mirror crying my Conscience to wake
Trust, at my Pocket; Honesty, at brim
And a Cloud condensing to form this Lake
Now fill Evaporation's Time with Blood,
Squeezing the Hour we need to amend:
"****** Holy, Smug Lot! Gossip's Cot Krug!
And whatever ******* left at Tar's Bend!"
Aye. Folly Love-Haskins takes one a-craze
And left the Diver-Boy swimming at maze.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
A poet on the run,
he's escaping his own head.
This ******, broken son,
stands to where he's fled.
Quiet; maybe it's best,
that a pen's his only friend.
They're pounding on his chest,
yet only his hand ascends.
So many words wasted,
that he should've said.
"All of y'all are faceless,
to me you're just the dead,"
Because somewhere along the journey,
his humanity faded too.
They laughed and called him 'worthy,'
as his pupils changed their hue.
"Dead, you're all dead!
Can y'all truly not see?
Take your souls, and leave my bed,
before I forget who I used to be"
-
This poem is about fighting mental illness.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
ryn Jan 2015
New year, new future, new performance on life's stage
New book, new chapter with a brand new page
New friends, new plans, scrapes from new falls

But...

I am the same, I am still me, penning the same ****** scrawls
zebra Sep 2018
have you ever seen beauty in a silky nightmare
have you  ever seen the monster of deprivation in heavens promise?

we speak of private things
we should never talk about
about vailed women
and their terrible secrets
and about myself who remains no longer a secret to myself

somewhere i went off the track
like a  daisy chain saw of honesty
to ensure you knew i was sick
a sick **** with a trick
as if i ate some ****** up hallucinogenic' s
making me spill my obsessions all over you
like some weird perfumed *****
down a swirling rainbow toilet
that turns out to be only jelly and whipped cream
wrapped in colored ribbons on cellophane tampons

i feel like  having *** or going to the toilet in public
while waving my hands up in the air
screaming yahoo i'm free
to blow to kingdom come
the temple of normalcy
you know
the church of rose gardens, cemeteries and deprivations
except of course for the sneers, smears
and self loathing vanilla demons
who wear long see through dresses and crosses
like dash board plastic virgins
with bobbing heads
that make hissing sounds about sin

i confess
i'm attracted to the darkest women
strange *******
and  ******
the stranger the better
who shake their butts
like hoodoo enchanted show girls
doing what they shouldn't do
crying and scrying like cooing moons calling
"drink me like ****** Mary
daddy **** lollypop"
all inky tats and razorblade ouchies

or
you can join those
covered in white collared black as death habits
begging the invisible *** cake in paradise
waiting for mercy and a little ****
that never comes
stuck in an empty
loveless bar of crucifixes that only serves up theology

oh baby
***** dreams do come true
pink ****** ***** gladly widen their haunches
like **** without boots
not caring if they go to hell
playin
like a joy ride of fiddle **** sticks
all freaky tongues and tingling licks
thick saliva multi lingual blow jobs
lathering flashing lipped saliva for the squirt  
with fiery wet hypodermic kisses
that make screams
like creamed upleaping lava and ash
for a million hungry sexed up twisting tongues
in occult ecstasy
fecundating shrouds of steamy clouds
in stained red black lighted rooms
with cherub crowned *****
and their drooling snatches buttered ****

eat quivering
like fowl mouthed piranhas
crying more raw meat please
while you drag your perfect person visage
into hollow caves of despair
cold and lonely

so you forlorn love struck weeping
horney pathetic scarecrow
socially engineered robots
if you want love
like heated buttery waffles with sweet jam
just give your self away like slutty putty
to lust criminals and *** addicted pervs  
until
you feel someone swallow you whole
soul and all
and lick their lips
like your their cherry pie

then look passed your
rats nest of pride and exhaustive approval list
and love them back
like free beer
bang their brains out
be their slave and make them yours
in the mad house of love
of warped shimmering mirrors, straight jackets, and squeezy insertions

and if one day they don't appreciate your imperfect perfection
if they weaponize like critic's
teach them respect
shove it where they breathe
lick your wounds
be brave
throw them in the trash bin of history
and move on

Eros and Venus
take a million forms

look around
your swimming in a giant bowl of broken hearts
hungry mouths, drenched ***** and hard *****

you whimpering little beasts
dress to ****
undress to live

its a movable feast
advice to the lovelorn young
thank you to Lora Lee for the line
" swirling toilet rainbows"
Cné Dec 2017
~
O Painter
with thy own eye
                        would thee
paint me in mine own natural hue
prithee paint me as i am,
imperfections
            and blemishes true

Load thy brush
                      with colors sundry
to maketh yond first pure sweep
across the ****** frieze,
fill'd with pangs of hunger.
paint me as i standeth
                  bethought, in deep

With mine own love and mine own desire,
blurring the edges unclean
with mine own regrets
                  and mine own mental gyre,
in mine own natural age,
               of deep forest green

O Painter
Paint me sinister turquoise,
in lavender and maroon,
combine the amethyst and amber
blend the iceberg
       and the indigo moon.

Paint me as i standeth,
       prithee see with thy eye
a mistress in yond lady plight
Prithee paint me all i am
i cullionly
a mistress in all yond lady might

Paint me in the optimistic
                             silv'r of dawn,
but don’t miss the purple
to shade the bruise
                              of the bygone.
paint me in the sky blue journal

O Painter
Paint me as a unique template
smudge black white and grizzled
merging all the colors of thy palette.
col'r me a rainbow
                            in a rainy drizzle

Paint me tall so yond i standeth
loftier than any mountain
Paint me as a dram bird, delicate
with soft feathers silken

Paint me harmony, as a violin
so yond i can sing thy solitary tune
paint me as thy poetry
         with song and melody
wrapp'd in a cocoon

O Painter
paint me as a dream yond rises
                               in did saturate colors
with a steady upbeat flight awry
tint, a fluttering
             of a quite quaint butterfly

Portray me with endurance
imbue so bold and bright
doth not hesitate
                to depict mine own mind
in profound fuchsia and white.

Useth the colors yond thee would borrow
Thy palette not yet exsufflicate
Paint mine own loss and mine own sorrow
in search of a shade so ******

Adorn mine own heart in glowing garnet
at which hour thee paint mine own love
add a true broken blue shade
of the cloud and the rain above;

Study mine own dry sorrow
                              in mine own soul
useth any shade thee plaited
soften the edges of control
in a tinge of xanthene.

O Painter
Prithee paint me
Mine own passion and mine own spirit
shall has't a crimson r'd hint
mine own remorse and mine own regret
shall reflect an ink stain print

Paint me in mine own eye so true
O Painter
but add a dash of courage too

~
When I paint, I’m never quite satisfied as I see all my mistakes, blemishes and colors not quite right. I tend to keep painting to try and get it all right. At some point, I arrive with the conclusion, if I keep going I’m going to mess it up. I stand across the room and, it’s then that I’m amazed at what I have created. I like to think that I’m seen in the same way by my creator.
The children they run, jump through the Sun,
...scream at the Horse for nary the fun.

What have you seen? What do you believe?
Did you get burnt on St. John's Eve?

Which day is it? Oh what the time?
Who be the meaning of old fabled rhyme?

Can you see stars? Oh great the heavens...
...can you see stars, so great the heavens?
Can you see stars? Oh great the heavens...
...can you see stars, so great the heavens?

Shh, here she comes, break black -the night!
...washed away the horse with infernal delight!

One is left ******, burnt, torn, pieces broken,
..and Momma, please Pappa; one's life merely token.

The children they run, jump through the Sun,
...ritual of the fear, for New Age begun.

Can you see stars? Oh great the heavens...
...can you see stars, so great the heavens?
Can you see stars? Oh great the heavens...
...can you see stars, so great the heavens?
The ritual of the May, the Spring, May-Queen, Beltis and Bacchus as Beltane for both are one; two sides. The Catholic Church folded mythology into it's own canon by deifying Celtic, Greek, Norse and Roman gods. St. John's Eve is the ritual of Bacchus. In this ritual a fire pit is made and children jump through the flames; pass through the fire of the Sun. They do this while fleeing the two men dressed up as a white horse; the Pale Rider which is the Moon. Enacting the two sides of Janus; all coins have on their face an image of the sun god or sun king and an image on the obverse of a horse or horse's head. The moon has three faces that can be seen by the naked eye and if you look at it you will see one of them appears to be grey spots that form a horse's head. They are chased by the moon and saved by the sun but one is caught and torn apart the way Bacchus was killed. In the longer form one constellation character is, "caught," each Spring as the Age of Precession and once every 2,160 years a new one is, "saved," by the Sun passing through him.
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