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"corroded" poems
.    *Curious minds,       splashing under        moonlight        With       outstretched kisses      pulsating yellow,      Over the awestruck       magical        rainbow,          Feverishly tracking each          supernova       on sight.*    ***Resting the moment     on a      cresting knoll,     With    an audience of several    time-worn      rocks.       Whilst the         whistling sirens         in the winds do call...           Wasting away         the ticks of      worldly       clocks.***         *Evading with class,        all        heart's turbulence,         Craters of sadness           congeal            in thin air,              Glamorous amnesia              falls           with cadence,          Eyes wide shut,          susurrating           a            lost prayer.*              ***Lifeless gazes                yield                only              abrasive tears.              As erratum               catches up                 with its                  gaping maw.               Hurling             its anguish              in              rips and shears,               Bleeding out                 of                singing wounds              so raw.              But...               time carries confident,                 its stock of                    soothing balm.                    Latent doses                  hidden                 within                  invisible vials.                   Welcoming vision                     with its                     sunlit palms,                    Staving the longing                     for the                     fear of trials.***                       *Now hushed                          remain the remorseful                         battle trenches,                         Deprived of their own                           victims                             save gaping wounds,                             Only                              faint faith                                 commanding                                    corroded limp                                    forces,                                  Stirring                                 light away                                from                                 all                                  agony                                     and                                    doom.*                               Moonskittles                             ryn
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Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 6:40 AM UTC
Temporal Healing (Collaboration with the Sensational Moonskittles)
.    *Curious minds,       splashing under        moonlight        With       outstretched kisses      pulsating yellow,      Over the awestruck       magical        rainbow,          Feverishly tracking each          supernova       on sight.*    ***Resting the moment     on a      cresting knoll,     With    an audience of several    time-worn      rocks.       Whilst the         whistling sirens         in the winds do call...           Wasting away         the ticks of      worldly       clocks.***         *Evading with class,        all        heart's turbulence,         Craters of sadness           congeal            in thin air,              Glamorous amnesia              falls           with cadence,          Eyes wide shut,          susurrating           a            lost prayer.*              ***Lifeless gazes                yield                only              abrasive tears.              As erratum               catches up                 with its                  gaping maw.               Hurling             its anguish              in              rips and shears,               Bleeding out                 of                singing wounds              so raw.              But...               time carries confident,                 its stock of                    soothing balm.                    Latent doses                  hidden                 within                  invisible vials.                   Welcoming vision                     with its                     sunlit palms,                    Staving the longing                     for the                     fear of trials.***                       *Now hushed                          remain the remorseful                         battle trenches,                         Deprived of their own                           victims                             save gaping wounds,                             Only                              faint faith                                 commanding                                    corroded limp                                    forces,                                  Stirring                                 light away                                from                                 all                                  agony                                     and                                    doom.*                               Moonskittles                             ryn
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90
A musical trance seance under control by the hand of a shadow A "Du hast" to a "Loco" To a "beautiful people" A fraction of symphony, Sent by the gods of rock Spiderweb rooms an corridor covered with the entrance to darkness set in place with danger light's, Strobe lights, an a fog machine set on auto A haunted feel to a shack left cold an abandoned. Equipped with superior beings and extended solo's of 6 string guitar's along with drum's and distorted bass guitar, setting the rhythm for our soul's,Feeding threw 4 large kickers. This shadow was me Venom Decorated in crow face paint, Along with black attire to match my attitude People came and went and came again Supporting my and there craving for sublime sound But one, the one, my goddess, my angel of death came to my dwelling, she came with a message To indulge in my love But also to give me a message of misery To break me free of this chaotic world i was fixed in, with a bite to my fingertip the purified pressure was on She wore the same colors as I Only more dragged inline's More pain, More beauty than she could see I stared into her crystal corroded bloodshot eyes I seen deep within herself I saw pain, I saw hate for her fire, I saw hate from others I had seen everything and nothing I arose from my slumber to meet her in the darkness or mothers sleep To give mother a great vision, a great dream and it was this My angel of death, Meeting face to face, Eye to misery, Cure to disease, Beauty to ugly. The words rolled off her tongue like the greatest embrace to a lover Her words were sweet and seductive Sprinkled with tears of a suicidal mind and a scarred wrist. Then in a perfect moment are perfect tender love met with crying eyes and black lipstick. Within that moment i ingested her misery I took it and gave her what she deserved Beauty After the release of this lover's choice We met vision and from there i seen the truth I could never release her from this insanity Only pamper or even embrace it This timeless motion of misery will never stop ticking in my heart Not till it expires!
0
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
The misery of an angel
A musical trance seance under control by the hand of a shadow A "Du hast" to a "Loco" To a "beautiful people" A fraction of symphony, Sent by the gods of rock Spiderweb rooms an corridor covered with the entrance to darkness set in place with danger light's, Strobe lights, an a fog machine set on auto A haunted feel to a shack left cold an abandoned. Equipped with superior beings and extended solo's of 6 string guitar's along with drum's and distorted bass guitar, setting the rhythm for our soul's,Feeding threw 4 large kickers. This shadow was me Venom Decorated in crow face paint, Along with black attire to match my attitude People came and went and came again Supporting my and there craving for sublime sound But one, the one, my goddess, my angel of death came to my dwelling, she came with a message To indulge in my love But also to give me a message of misery To break me free of this chaotic world i was fixed in, with a bite to my fingertip the purified pressure was on She wore the same colors as I Only more dragged inline's More pain, More beauty than she could see I stared into her crystal corroded bloodshot eyes I seen deep within herself I saw pain, I saw hate for her fire, I saw hate from others I had seen everything and nothing I arose from my slumber to meet her in the darkness or mothers sleep To give mother a great vision, a great dream and it was this My angel of death, Meeting face to face, Eye to misery, Cure to disease, Beauty to ugly. The words rolled off her tongue like the greatest embrace to a lover Her words were sweet and seductive Sprinkled with tears of a suicidal mind and a scarred wrist. Then in a perfect moment are perfect tender love met with crying eyes and black lipstick. Within that moment i ingested her misery I took it and gave her what she deserved Beauty After the release of this lover's choice We met vision and from there i seen the truth I could never release her from this insanity Only pamper or even embrace it This timeless motion of misery will never stop ticking in my heart Not till it expires!
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38
Sickly might, cravens and craving demon drooling bite. That fleshly flaunt of fool and privilege, he burned to smoldering. Lapped his blood from crowned jewel and corroded golden spires. The lost cadaver, pride driven manicured demon of self driven greed and godly hunger. Such as fiendish that ****** the sulfured serpent, tis a sickened beast in dread black suit, raffled in silken red tie it's but the psychopath's blood smeared human hide. Crave the flesh, tear and splatter the soul from within, fiends of fantastically practiced to perfect parallel smiles. They'll slip your soul from the bars of your throat, reap every inch of the body's hold. Steal friendships to lips, lives to hips, slurp the killing, seize the blind weeping cold. You've got nothing not to be swept and stole. Soulless has a studded luster, but the ****** socio bleeds liquid sins, bears fangs plastic wrapped in blades, human game is the psychopath's wet dream.
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Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:27 AM UTC
Psychopath Devine
Once, I read about a theme park The roller coasters reached the bottoms of the clouds and the speeds broke the sound barrier Children went there daily They laughed and they screamed and they smiled from dawn until dusk They won prizes and they were very much alive I went to look up that theme park last month The rides had all shut down And they were completely still Nobody had touched it in years The streets of this city that were once full of life Were dull and motionless The windows were broken The prizes were gone The bright lights of all colors were now empty shattered bulbs The only emotion was empty All of the happiness and joy And the laughter and life Was completely gone I think of this often How one place can hold such life one day and the next be as good as dead? I saw myself in this corpse My body, decaying The joy I would feel and the dancing and laughter has now all turned to a blank slate of gray My mind had shut it all away and I am nothing I once held better days But now I am a broken roller coaster Abandoned and corroded Because I once got so high And I once moved so fast But now I am frozen in my place, hidden away Forgotten like an erased word off a paper Once, I read about a theme park And all I learned was I am empty too
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May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
Theme Park
is it wrong that those in love make me want to ***** lying on my back? so that the 900 calorie barbecue cheeseburger that i ate for dinner kills me in a manner other than clogging my already corroded arteries once you're alone it seems as if everyone is together and it makes you wonder, who was writing sick, twisted poetry about you and your lover, holding hands and staring into each others eyes, as if irises hold all of the answers and promises to a beautiful life
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May 6, 2011
May 6, 2011 at 10:48 PM UTC
cheeseburger
When the tale of the kite wraps itself around your neck, And yet continues to fly, freely You should now know that freedom to one comes at a cost to the other. But you must wonder, as Jupiter and Zeus watch this storm, that leaves nothing more than dust in their eyes; It's funny how kites are a symbol of freedom when they are actually tied to a glass-coated cotton string. The same cotton, that another boy who looks directly into your eyes could have worn. It's funny how when one side of the coin is painted in platinum and the other side struggles to know whether it's still a coin with value as it is being corroded. Yes, they were one coin. Once. The tulip blooms fade before the foliage dies, every flower that dies is not reborn But on the land it does, is. When the flower is no more, the green stem still remains. But did the flower die from the wasp that stung its nectar and perhaps even the pollen or did it die from the feet that stepped upon because they were inside the duststorm that disallows them to look at the ground. Do all flowers that die are reborn? How many flowers can one wasp even sting? How many times can you stomp over one flower until it has no petals but only your footprints? As you wonder, The tail of the kite has been detached from its throne, You look, as you wonder, if this is freedom or that was. And another Hassan chases it yet again.
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Aug 16, 2021
Aug 16, 2021 at 3:16 PM UTC
The kite runner
Whats with all the twisted lies when cotton mouth corroded hound dogs eat souls made from badger **** and ice cream not really sure what to think or even how to tell but we all know what needs to be done **** em all and **** em good give em the good ol justice *** kicking and send em packing! I might rant and you might rave but today i show you why im am the raven and your eyes that will be pecked YOU HAVE NO ******* EYES! I took them away and i will never return them unless you have a recite....which in that case im sorry......
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Across the world we all sink
"A patient man bides his time," Theodore tells the man in the mirror Tomorrow, all the levees will break And all the fables will be told Of distant Decembers and forgotten fathers Livelihoods will be threatened And remorse will fall by the wayside He watches as icicles on the awning Melt away into puddles on the ground "Warmer every day," he thinks to himself He hangs up his scarf and overcoat The way a simple man, with complex demons, is wont to do And as his wants devolve into needs And as all his anchors deteriorate to rust Her smile unnerves a once-settled man To think of the quality of glove necessary To hold onto the wagon in this day and age So Theodore pulls the door to, Leaving Chopin's "Horseman" to gallop in peace And in pieces He watches her from across the courtyard "Such sweet bliss in her footsteps," he sighs And it seems to him as if the snow dissipates Just from the warmth in her steady gait Just from the radiation behind her brown eyes He slides open the dresser drawer A haven for scattered trinkets, odds, and ends A place of respite for the weary souvenir There, amidst all the corroded memories Lies a corroded pistol, unspoken and unburnished "And a lonely man drinks his wine," Theodore says, as intrepidly as he is capable For there is a time when fathers stop teaching A time when mothers stop singing And a place where the sins stop searching A last breath is deeply inhaled But never again will find its escape With a thud that echoes to Seymour Street Theodore crumples to the cold wooden floor, A simple man, finally free of complex demons
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Jan 25, 2023
Jan 25, 2023 at 1:19 PM UTC
Levees (Theodore's Tale)
"A patient man bides his time," Theodore tells the man in the mirror Tomorrow, all the levees will break And all the fables will be told Of distant Decembers and forgotten fathers Livelihoods will be threatened And remorse will fall by the wayside He watches as icicles on the awning Melt away into puddles on the ground "Warmer every day," he thinks to himself He hangs up his scarf and overcoat The way a simple man, with complex demons, is wont to do And as his wants devolve into needs And as all his anchors deteriorate to rust Her smile unnerves a once-settled man To think of the quality of glove necessary To hold onto the wagon in this day and age So Theodore pulls the door to, Leaving Chopin's "Horseman" to gallop in peace And in pieces He watches her from across the courtyard "Such sweet bliss in her footsteps," he sighs And it seems to him as if the snow dissipates Just from the warmth in her steady gait Just from the radiation behind her brown eyes He slides open the dresser drawer A haven for scattered trinkets, odds, and ends A place of respite for the weary souvenir There, amidst all the corroded memories Lies a corroded pistol, unspoken and unburnished "And a lonely man drinks his wine," Theodore says, as intrepidly as he is capable For there is a time when fathers stop teaching A time when mothers stop singing And a place where the sins stop searching A last breath is deeply inhaled But never again will find its escape With a thud that echoes to Seymour Street Theodore crumples to the cold wooden floor, A simple man, finally free of complex demons
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40
Like an explosion; But in s l o w m o t i o n, a tidal wave crashes This ironclad vessel beginning to thrash Through the flashes of light though I see a brief passage The corroded bolts past their toll Give way exposing the hull Capsizing the flood gates, Negating promise of a safe harbor ashore Amidst the panic and commotion Together we sank, into the ocean; *Sailing the high seas of impassion I was impassive, & Like an anchor* Love plunged to unimaginable new fathoms Dragging us down; Perilously we claw hand over fist The sorrows we drown Adrift the turmoil and wreckage Bubbles ascend toward the surface (Spluttered echoes of our last choked hopes) Water fills our lungs expunging the air Fearing the end I daresay; Babe take my breath away Death is only the beginning But I’m afraid of the forward path’s embrace Dead ahead through the currents we tread Shallow water blackout, There's no turning back now, Let's die as we lived
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 9:26 PM UTC
Abandon ship ⚓️
I was in a rush to grow up look Mom no cuts just a stomach of disgust and the fear that I might go nuts this year ........ I've lost all faith in a world so full of hate and I don't ******* love music I just use it to escape but wait, I'm caught between wanting to punch someone in the face and putting a bullet in my head to leave the human race everything takes its toll but no there's no toll I can take I haven't yet found a good reason to be awake Introducing my corroded bumps I hide behind my smile I'm angry with the universe for the way she treats me now and keeps me down stealing all my energy feeling like my enemy concealing my identity
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
From the song "Even shadows have shadows" by Michael "Eyedea" Larsen (1981-2010)
Im tired of all the lies I hide behind, so Im Breaking the ties to the past Long lasting present because the past is the past not a cage, and it also isn't a theatre So this exsistance shouldn't be staged, cause this **** ain't funny like Bellamy, You might think I've gone mad because I'm not listening to what you're tellin' me not to, but I got to, in order to survive, because the self inflincted wounds are healing and hardening,  I'm searching for a deeper punishment, making life more enjoyable, laid back and not so tense, you won't have to worry about what trouble I might be in next, and you won't have to be burdened with disappointment when I fail your tests. So I'll play this life like a game of spades, by the time this game is over, my stomach will be corroded with rage but I'll  keep a pokerface, hidden behind stoner charm, a smile, a handsome face & tinted shades, I know you're clearly blind to my bluffing, and I know you see me today, but my eyes are set on the worries of tomarrow and my mind is still wincing from yesterdays sarrow I'm alive but I'm dying inside because the guilt and shame are smothering me, not to mention I'm choking on regret, Don't fret, because my face isn't turnin' blue, and my pulse isn't speeding up, but my wrists are scarred, but not ****** and please don't worry because this won't happen agian, not making any promises, Lord please forgive me for I know that I have sinned, I just needed some proof to remind me where I've been....
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Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
Conversation With my Reflection
Im tired of all the lies I hide behind, so Im Breaking the ties to the past Long lasting present because the past is the past not a cage, and it also isn't a theatre So this exsistance shouldn't be staged, cause this **** ain't funny like Bellamy, You might think I've gone mad because I'm not listening to what you're tellin' me not to, but I got to, in order to survive, because the self inflincted wounds are healing and hardening,  I'm searching for a deeper punishment, making life more enjoyable, laid back and not so tense, you won't have to worry about what trouble I might be in next, and you won't have to be burdened with disappointment when I fail your tests. So I'll play this life like a game of spades, by the time this game is over, my stomach will be corroded with rage but I'll  keep a pokerface, hidden behind stoner charm, a smile, a handsome face & tinted shades, I know you're clearly blind to my bluffing, and I know you see me today, but my eyes are set on the worries of tomarrow and my mind is still wincing from yesterdays sarrow I'm alive but I'm dying inside because the guilt and shame are smothering me, not to mention I'm choking on regret, Don't fret, because my face isn't turnin' blue, and my pulse isn't speeding up, but my wrists are scarred, but not ****** and please don't worry because this won't happen agian, not making any promises, Lord please forgive me for I know that I have sinned, I just needed some proof to remind me where I've been....
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27
you're still losing weight. i didn't know it was possible to shed the pounds this quickly. the less you eat, the more you age. in three months, you'll have aged six years. i can't recognize you anymore. it's like parts of your soul have gone missing. your body is what holds your mind. it holds your soul. it held me. i know it sounds so selfish, but i want you go be who you were before. not only were you healthy, but you were happy. and warm. so warm. i hope you gain back your warmth. i hope you find the pieces of your soul that have corroded in the stomach acid your force yourself to choke up. i hope your serotonin levels raise to a normal number. i hope that the color comes back to your cheeks. i hope that you become something other than a walking corpse. if you don't, i won't lecture you again, but i won't be able to come back. it's too hard seeing you like this. i hope you understand. but please know that i will always love you and i will always be on your side. i believe you can do it. call me when it happens.
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Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC
open letter to an anorexic friend
this body of mine is a sunken ship wrecked and rusted, seemingly nothing left to salvage; this vessel can no longer float, I know but, the moss green coating these corroded limbs a whole spectrum of colour peaking out from behind my curves an ecosystem, making a home of an empty frame this body might be submerged in this unforgiving sea but don't worry, there is still life here.
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Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
Shipwrecked
Bleed me dry Take all that remains Carry my corpse And take the burden of my shames An empty shell of what used to be So beautiful but so damaged was she Never would have that we would be I needed you more than words can describe My everything, my eternal lullaby Quietly rearranging the pieces of me Never causing commotion Only bringing out emotions never before seen Tainted, touched Your distress equated to my lust Armed with your pain Slicing and dicing hoping to never hit a vein Your words evaded, while my mind corroded Slowly dipping into insanity Please please don't take me Pleading for a retrieve I only wanted you to receive All of the pent up love Inside of me, just waiting to be released I deemed you worthy of it all Now we tumble as we both take the fall Graceful we are not Both of us ****** up from the start Bleak and diseased does our love grow Two bludgeoned bodies trying to make it through I promised I would never leave you Only to be deceived by you You understand my pain and yet here we are I'm ending up with even more scars While you look on from afar But it's okay because I was already dead anyway
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Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 8:22 PM UTC
Bleed
Here lies a continuation of being. View it as scenery indifferent to the weather channel. A silent, exponential inverted sunshine euphoria Warming the deepest letters of the soul: U and I swaying outside linear cubic conventions corroded- We sway like flowering Earth Resonance blooming as foreign [Sensations] A toe-curling in the chest stretched intimate at the highest hour [Movement] An unconditional syncopation of the heart and mind echoing a Design as Liquid Resonance - I am that which you are. “I could cry solid tears. Where have I been all these years,” says You to reflected I rippling [Perception] Never spoken, only written as an abstract entity aware of vibrations Tethered to timeless stories never read, only felt as I and U in Reflected them, the missing strangers with a need to be found [Immortalized] Twisted eyes, encumbered lips, everflowing knitted letters stuttered. Kissed. Growing from itself a rehearsed mantra embroidered pattern discord. Mythical. The murmuration of a serenade’s evil dermis that feigns thick to tooth and claw, but silences to love as the overture. Wide-eyed, you and I are a nascent reprise of words cloaked in inked pages turning in the billowing wind. "Read them to me." So I read in heavy rain. From Monday to Sunday.
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
Murmuration.
Black hole, please, absorb this! This horrible image, This regrettable instance In which I had lost myself to Blindness. Lover, Force me to look at you And nit into the past that is A marble statue with claws and teeth That protrude like swords. Tell me I can let go Of the rotted flower petals Covered in mold and betrayal, They said they would stay Beautiful! Tell me I can rinse the slime Of false hope from my body And my intimacies so that I may be pure for you. Quicksand, drop this putrid locket Into your depths and clog the clasp So that no one will ever see the inside. Obey Me! Take my sacrifice, my past and Everything Corroded! Tell me That I am able to forget And be forgotten!
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Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
Forgotten
Words mean a lot, though miss used a lot And so I thought why not, type-out my thoughts At the age of twenty, I fought a lot and I lost Submitted to reality, thanks to life for this munity I quarrel with this world to find my golden state, but Even in the golden age, this imperfect being still remains Yes I grow with age, learn from my mistakes Expelling all the weeds, growing and suffocating this angelic Creation So when I wake-up, stare at mirror, moisture my skin with perfumed lotion With the attempt to adorn this temple... Close to Goodness yet far from purity at times I may be white, till my robe is painted with mud I'm only human, and yes I fall, but get back up This life is rough, behind the smiles and all the love Remain deep scars, this life is tough, but I still laugh Endure the harsh times, and all the storms If I be iron this structure would be corroded Filled with rust, burying, who I really am All my imperfections, lust lack of trust, sometimes lack of love, and all the scars can taint my soul Flawless Imperfectionist
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
Flawless Imperfectionist
*Their voices echo along the threads of time I read their works on tattered pages They say their words did but rhyme Their's were for inspiration,not wages They told stories like real witnesses Of agonizing times and sicknesses The soldiers of their sweet narrations They say rode on horses of generations Triumphant over the trend, glorious Shooting arrows past lineages,like warriors They fought against pride and Prejudice Across boundaries, winged like Pegasus They flew to bring merit of words and lines And stood the test of time like wild pines   They used sharp words instead of swords Only received rejection ,sometimes nods Walked long distances,endured perspiration Sleepless ,so to cultivate some inspiration They were young but with mature souls Their relentless effort vividly like Moles Burrowed through even hardened hearts And with needles of kindness stitched cuts Finely weaved justice on paper like Mats And spread it for the world,across all parts When speech was hated and persecuted They stood strong and instead recruited The course of changes threatened to slay Erosion corroded letters worse than clay Their beautiful hearts where kindness lay Were battered and butchered causing hope to decay A season came when all was but a lost cause And were tales of how once upon a time it was Yet again like a phoenix someday they rose From the ashes of history, how? Nobody knows They were stronger and mightier than mortals And travelled through un fathomed portals They built a very powerful mental kingdom Above the prestigious tower of wisdom Where they reigned like the fires on doom at Mordor Freed so many prisoners of their situations Across the entire universe and her nations Gave them keys so they unlock more doors Stanzas crawled like maggots across all avenues With mixed feelings the world received the news Though were skewed to embracing the return Because for once they saw a flame of peace burn Their tears were wiped by every piece they read Poets let them realize war wasn't only in their head Reason flowed like waters in fountains and streams Readers believed once again in their dreams And like poetry and poets they didn't sit back and cry Every poem they read,sad or not told them to get up and try And when they finally got victory over their inner strife Not even once did they forget poems changed their life*
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Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
POETS ARE WARRIORS
*Their voices echo along the threads of time I read their works on tattered pages They say their words did but rhyme Their's were for inspiration,not wages They told stories like real witnesses Of agonizing times and sicknesses The soldiers of their sweet narrations They say rode on horses of generations Triumphant over the trend, glorious Shooting arrows past lineages,like warriors They fought against pride and Prejudice Across boundaries, winged like Pegasus They flew to bring merit of words and lines And stood the test of time like wild pines   They used sharp words instead of swords Only received rejection ,sometimes nods Walked long distances,endured perspiration Sleepless ,so to cultivate some inspiration They were young but with mature souls Their relentless effort vividly like Moles Burrowed through even hardened hearts And with needles of kindness stitched cuts Finely weaved justice on paper like Mats And spread it for the world,across all parts When speech was hated and persecuted They stood strong and instead recruited The course of changes threatened to slay Erosion corroded letters worse than clay Their beautiful hearts where kindness lay Were battered and butchered causing hope to decay A season came when all was but a lost cause And were tales of how once upon a time it was Yet again like a phoenix someday they rose From the ashes of history, how? Nobody knows They were stronger and mightier than mortals And travelled through un fathomed portals They built a very powerful mental kingdom Above the prestigious tower of wisdom Where they reigned like the fires on doom at Mordor Freed so many prisoners of their situations Across the entire universe and her nations Gave them keys so they unlock more doors Stanzas crawled like maggots across all avenues With mixed feelings the world received the news Though were skewed to embracing the return Because for once they saw a flame of peace burn Their tears were wiped by every piece they read Poets let them realize war wasn't only in their head Reason flowed like waters in fountains and streams Readers believed once again in their dreams And like poetry and poets they didn't sit back and cry Every poem they read,sad or not told them to get up and try And when they finally got victory over their inner strife Not even once did they forget poems changed their life*
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54
Hands, plural to make us one Near the end of August the heat told me to stop It's vicious, wanting you No milder than the jaws of winter And every person not you cuts On the street, our wounded lips Before October and on silver screens Your face projected on everything You wanted the cinema, I thought So I spoke fumbled niceties at your door But the camera was stuck in my eye And the words I scripted shifted into your mouth The breaths I take, the breaths I shout Your smile corroded in the rain Your endless longing, My endless shame It keeps me in this thought That what I feel has no name But the credits crept up with the dregs of December Money is noisy, and I liked your quietudes But the snow will blanket my blood-buoyant bright And I will drown into night To lay by you until dawn To lay by you until you are gone
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
Quiet Cinema by Charlotte Johansen and Joshua Haines
There is this idea, this feeling you say: A revelation of profound compassion Riddled with crippling paramount tribulation Dribbling with drops of pontification. Thoughtfully and yet aimlessly kicking Unctuously vacuous presumptions. Promising, Eventually, to unveil brick by brick This facade someday and assure me The imprisoning edifice, with which you keep Under lock and key, will be effaced And naked, soon, someday in front of me. Yet, here another day passes. From curbside to manhole, up sidewalks and across gravel grit. Then a squib toward onlookers window shopping Glaring down at me as both they and you listen To my dissonant and hollow caterwaul. CLING, CLANG, BANG! Look at me I'm just a can! Crumpled and malleable, a thin sheet of five cent aluminum; Recyclable, reusable, just a means to a mans end. Ah! But I am not what you think I am: Within, a bountiful boisterous bloom, unravels The arid breath of lies and procrastination you exhume. Your insipid words fall vapidly in my mind like corroded rust Gently drifting onto a lapping lake. They are an erroneous ear infection boring my wits And dulling my thoughts, a waste of time. All of it bottled, canned, and manufactured From within your ******** emporium. Keep your bricks and mortar, think they retain your unctuous pride While this time, for once, I kick the can curbside.
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Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 9:27 AM UTC
Curbside Pride
There are walls waiting, crumbling as pockmarks of decay beside sidewalks along motor cities’ streets. There are terminal and forsaken structures colonized with ungrateful squirrels that abandon attics for creaking kitchens with corroded sinks. Un-shoveled snow melts slow on walkways unfamiliar with worn heels or rubber soles. There are forlorn relics patient and waiting for us to join them.
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Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
Abandoned in Detroit
Decimating Destitution Ravaged wreckage, Ruins and rubble, Depressing debris, Ashes about, Sky soaring shroud, Misery maxed, Fallen freedom, Corroded cache, Pillaged poverty, Explosive extremities, Covert corruption, Dystopic dynasty, Unknown utopia, Infinity is inept, Forsaken faith, Rejected religion, Cataclysmic calamity, Decimating destitution.
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Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
DECIMATING DESTITUTION.
Behind the house with the fragmented windows and the corroded pipes and the cobwebs and ages under the stairs, she buried herself under the earth and grime until the roots contained her decayed soul and encased around her brittle scarred limbs. Until the dirt crept down her windpipes, until her tarnished lungs were suffused with ashes and dirt. Until roots replaced her veins and smothered her cracked ribcage. Behind the house with the fragmented windows, under the grass and gravel, that was rougher than her mother’s dispirited retorts, where she once capered and skipped, and never thought would become her grave. By the ethereal creatures she played with in her younger and more susceptible years. Dig up her bones but leave her soul. Who would ever want cruel contaminated beauty as a periphery for such a fouled soul? It was when she stopped falling asleep on the way home, when her nightlight ceased to make her feel safe, when a lover’s unlawful kisses replaced her family’s amity, when a lover’s lethal passion parted her lethal loneliness, when home became a person and not a place, was when she buried herself behind the house with the fragmented windows.
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
the house with the fragmented windows
The mist was almost ethereal It floated above the silent  waters But silent was not always Peaceful, for too touch the mist Visions, Pain, Faded Limbs, as if the mist had amputated flesh, But revealed gradually upon exiting like lacerations it cut As the mist faded, I could feel but not see, Bone, Nerves, Flesh, Skin now where mist had evaporated, "Then the visions" "Hard to explain" To count the emotions, then blank, I was burning, drowning The torture with in my mind I saw each one fall, taken by the waters All that was sunk beneath All that could have been Now taken to the deep, I looked upon the waters where mist Did not creep, Revulsion, Anxiety, Sorrow For those beneath, like a tainted mirror "Trying to break free" For within each impact a wave Washed ashore, It corroded what life it touched Anger was washing upon the riverbank, "So many drowning slowly" A last breath a life time of agony Slowly those that exhaled the last, No peace as the mist was there final curse, Trapped within, souls screaming outwards, "To touch felt there pain within" "This river of the lost ones" Those who thought freedom from Pain, now suffered a lifetime within, "For the forgotten river" "Where the mist never falters" "Try to drown your sorrows" "Eternity will be the price paid" One within the waters, Eternal torment within the screaming ethereal  mists..
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
The Mists Of The Forgotten River