Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"defences" poems
His "I love you" came swiftly. Like the monsoon pouring down on a leaky roof Those three words broke through my defences. At first they were an ambrosia; They sustained my life and our relationship. At least for a short time. Then "I love you" became an excuse; For absences, and purpose-filled accidents. And I ignored the warning signs, the flashing lights. I pretended like "I love you" was enough... ...But it wasn't. His "I love you"s were like band-aids on bullet wounds; Like using play dough to fix cracks in concrete walls. But I rationed our good memories, I held on as tight as I could to our love And watched as it slipped through my fingers. His "I love you"s became poison, That seeped deep into my bones, And turned blue skies grey, And turned light into darkness, And slowly killed whatever semblance of love I fooled myself into thinking we had left.
0
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 6:23 PM UTC
His "I Love You"
This trumpeter of nothingness, employed To keep our reason dull and null and void. This man of wind and froth and flux will sell The wares of any who reward him well. Praising whatever he is paid to praise, He hunts for ever-newer, smarter ways To make the gilt seen gold; the shoddy, silk; To cheat us legally; to bluff and bilk By methods which no jury can prevent Because the law's not broken, only bent. This mind for hire, this mental ********** Can tell the half-lie hardest to refute; Knows how to hide an inconvenient fact And when to leave a doubtful claim unbacked; Manipulates the truth but not too much, And if his patter needs the Human Touch, Skillfully artless, artlessly naive, Wears his convenient heart upon his sleeve. He uses words that once were strong and fine, Primal as sun and moon and bread and wine, True, honourable, honoured, clear and keen, And leaves them shabby, worn, diminished, mean. He takes ideas and trains them to engage In the long little wars big combines wage... He keeps his logic loose, his feelings flimsy; Turns eloquence to cant and wit to whimsy; Trims language till it fits his clients, pattern And style's a glossy **** or limping slattern. He studies our defences, finds the cracks And where the wall is weak or worn, attacks. lie finds the fear that's deep, the wound that's tender, And mastered, outmanouevered, we surrender. We who have tried to choose accept his choice And tired succumb to his untiring voice. The dripping tap makes even granite soften We trust the brand-name we have heard so often And join the queue of sheep that flock to buy; We fools who know our folly, you and I.
0
11.1k
Attack On The Ad-Man
This trumpeter of nothingness, employed To keep our reason dull and null and void. This man of wind and froth and flux will sell The wares of any who reward him well. Praising whatever he is paid to praise, He hunts for ever-newer, smarter ways To make the gilt seen gold; the shoddy, silk; To cheat us legally; to bluff and bilk By methods which no jury can prevent Because the law's not broken, only bent. This mind for hire, this mental ********** Can tell the half-lie hardest to refute; Knows how to hide an inconvenient fact And when to leave a doubtful claim unbacked; Manipulates the truth but not too much, And if his patter needs the Human Touch, Skillfully artless, artlessly naive, Wears his convenient heart upon his sleeve. He uses words that once were strong and fine, Primal as sun and moon and bread and wine, True, honourable, honoured, clear and keen, And leaves them shabby, worn, diminished, mean. He takes ideas and trains them to engage In the long little wars big combines wage... He keeps his logic loose, his feelings flimsy; Turns eloquence to cant and wit to whimsy; Trims language till it fits his clients, pattern And style's a glossy **** or limping slattern. He studies our defences, finds the cracks And where the wall is weak or worn, attacks. lie finds the fear that's deep, the wound that's tender, And mastered, outmanouevered, we surrender. We who have tried to choose accept his choice And tired succumb to his untiring voice. The dripping tap makes even granite soften We trust the brand-name we have heard so often And join the queue of sheep that flock to buy; We fools who know our folly, you and I.
Continue reading...
38
She hid her heart with fallacious layers of 'don't worry' and 'it's fine', And she pleaded them not to try and reach her soul. But their words tore through her defences, And they cried as the onion girl bled slowly into oblivion.
0
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
Onion girl
These are the hard times, the long stretch of coal-shed days, the corrugated nights of the antinomian. I retch at the old doubts and the panoply of dustbins clattering bright, their watchers simian in the morning **** I dress as though dredging up greys, monotone deep in the GB tradition: now sandpit tea with oil stain floats silt dreads the mass of a seven year clay. Four weeks of shadows drown wind in a storm. And dreams of my cottage in days of such calm and late summer happiness as brought cut corn and strawbs and horse manure in hugs until like Zulu tribesmen the birds appeared. Hunched with expectation Spears smiling like baddies they rushed me. I woke pouring sweat like a workhorse the weakest of defences laid up my face pulling cellophane over French windows.
0
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 2:07 PM UTC
February, from which there is no escape
19 th October 2016 **Writing happened overnight Some pent up thoughts Confused no where completely understood Clarity and Connect With self The need to express well Wrote the night whole Out ,came The Soul ' Held defences high Not wanting to break the shell Some chapters always Skipped Escaped Deleted Never to be visited Yet life can be strange and funny However well planned It takes it own course Makes you read listen and understand And learn those very lessons The student in me Awakened Anew Glad to have found my words Or maybe the words found me The right tone for the inner voice Well timed No more confined **
0
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 9:03 PM UTC
The Journey Onward
Walking in a room or strutting down the street                  Inside a tunnel of ignorance she steps or takes a seat She feels the hungry glances devouring her soul Pray that the gist of her laugh remains whole Follow those hands running along the thin hair                  Blushing as the gesture burns down in a flare (Women are to be conquered                  And you can take her with a gentle smile She will drop all her defences                  On her knees to please your diguise.)
0
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
The Shy Girl
When everyone falls i shall rise. When clouds of darkness cover everything our light will slice a glimmer of hope, a sign of all that is good in this world. When all defences are broken my wings become an impenetrable fortress. I'll never bend, never falter, never give up. I shall be your savior, your liberator. A promise was given, i won't let you fall, i won't let you fail. If challenges come to your tail, i'll make them know that you're not frail. Slow it might come but success will be high, don't be disheartened because it's slow as snail. I am just a soul, a broken soul looking for a place. The place it belongs...
0
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
Silent guardian
Kung walked by the dynastic temple and into the cedar grove, and then out by the lower river, And with him Khieu Tchi and Tian the low speaking And “we are unknown,” said Kung, “You will take up charioteering? “Then you will become known, “Or perhaps I should take up charioterring, or archery? “Or the practice of public speaking?” And Tseu-lou said, “I would put the defences in order,” And Khieu said, “If I were lord of a province “I would put it in better order than this is.” And Tchi said, “I would prefer a small mountain temple, “With order in the observances, with a suitable performance of the ritual,” And Tian said, with his hand on the strings of his lute The low sounds continuing after his hand left the strings, And the sound went up like smoke, under the leaves, And he looked after the sound: “The old swimming hole, “And the boys flopping off the planks, “Or sitting in the underbrush playing mandolins.” And Kung smiled upon all of them equally. And Thseng-sie desired to know: “Which had answered correctly?” And Kung said, “They have all answered correctly, “That is to say, each in his nature.” And Kung raised his cane against Yuan Jang, Yuan Jang being his elder, For Yuan Jang sat by the roadside pretending to be receiving wisdom. And Kung said “You old fool, come out of it, “Get up and do something useful.” And Kung said “Respect a child’s faculties “From the moment it inhales the clear air, “But a man of fifty who knows nothng Is worthy of no respect.” And “When the prince has gathered about him “All the savants and artists, his riches will be fully employed.” And Kung said, and wrote on the bo leaves: If a man have not order within him He can not spread order about him; And if a man have not order within him His family will not act with due order; And if the prince have not order within him He can not put order in his dominions. And Kung gave the words “order” and “brotherly deference” And said nothing of the “life after death.” And he said “Anyone can run to excesses, “It is easy to shoot past the mark, “It is hard to stand firm in the middle.” And they said: If a man commit ****** Should his father protect him, and hide him? And Kung said: He should hide him. And Kung gave his daughter to Kong-Tchang Although Kong-Tchang was in prison. And he gave his niece to Nan-Young although Nan-Young was out of office. And Kung said “Wan ruled with moderation, “In his day the State was well kept, “And even I can remember “A day when the historians left blanks in their writings, “I mean, for things they didn’t know, “But that time seems to be passing. A day when the historians left blanks in their writings, But that time seems to be passing.” And Kung said, “Without character you will “be unable to play on that instrument “Or to execute the music fit for the Odes. “The blossoms of the apricot “blow from the east to the west, “And I have tried to keep them from falling.”
0
4.6k
Canto 13
Kung walked by the dynastic temple and into the cedar grove, and then out by the lower river, And with him Khieu Tchi and Tian the low speaking And “we are unknown,” said Kung, “You will take up charioteering? “Then you will become known, “Or perhaps I should take up charioterring, or archery? “Or the practice of public speaking?” And Tseu-lou said, “I would put the defences in order,” And Khieu said, “If I were lord of a province “I would put it in better order than this is.” And Tchi said, “I would prefer a small mountain temple, “With order in the observances, with a suitable performance of the ritual,” And Tian said, with his hand on the strings of his lute The low sounds continuing after his hand left the strings, And the sound went up like smoke, under the leaves, And he looked after the sound: “The old swimming hole, “And the boys flopping off the planks, “Or sitting in the underbrush playing mandolins.” And Kung smiled upon all of them equally. And Thseng-sie desired to know: “Which had answered correctly?” And Kung said, “They have all answered correctly, “That is to say, each in his nature.” And Kung raised his cane against Yuan Jang, Yuan Jang being his elder, For Yuan Jang sat by the roadside pretending to be receiving wisdom. And Kung said “You old fool, come out of it, “Get up and do something useful.” And Kung said “Respect a child’s faculties “From the moment it inhales the clear air, “But a man of fifty who knows nothng Is worthy of no respect.” And “When the prince has gathered about him “All the savants and artists, his riches will be fully employed.” And Kung said, and wrote on the bo leaves: If a man have not order within him He can not spread order about him; And if a man have not order within him His family will not act with due order; And if the prince have not order within him He can not put order in his dominions. And Kung gave the words “order” and “brotherly deference” And said nothing of the “life after death.” And he said “Anyone can run to excesses, “It is easy to shoot past the mark, “It is hard to stand firm in the middle.” And they said: If a man commit ****** Should his father protect him, and hide him? And Kung said: He should hide him. And Kung gave his daughter to Kong-Tchang Although Kong-Tchang was in prison. And he gave his niece to Nan-Young although Nan-Young was out of office. And Kung said “Wan ruled with moderation, “In his day the State was well kept, “And even I can remember “A day when the historians left blanks in their writings, “I mean, for things they didn’t know, “But that time seems to be passing. A day when the historians left blanks in their writings, But that time seems to be passing.” And Kung said, “Without character you will “be unable to play on that instrument “Or to execute the music fit for the Odes. “The blossoms of the apricot “blow from the east to the west, “And I have tried to keep them from falling.”
Continue reading...
80
The skies grow dark, Clouds gathering, Obscuring the sun in an instant. The last stand, One final protest, As defences break, Screams, Pain, Blood, Death, Fills my head, And all becomes clear, Di Ffrin, Di Sstrek, Is my reality, A sweet melody, Unsettling, But sweet, Oh yes! It consumes me, The light leaves, All becomes dark, And all makes perfect sense, They could not help me, There was no way they could, But now I have it, What I need, The realisation, In the darkness, The Purity of Lies.
0
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
Purity of Lies
Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination Silently the senses abandon their defences... Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour. Grasp it, sense it tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garish light of day, Turn your face away from cold, unfeeling light - and listen to the music of the night... Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams! Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before! Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar! And you'll live as you've never lived before. Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight the darkness of the music of the night. Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world! Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before! Let your soul take you where you long to be! Only then can you belong to me. Floating, falling, sweet intoxication! Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation! Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in, To the harmony which dreams alone can write, The power of the music of the night! You alone can make my song take flight, Help me make the music of the night.
0
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
Music Of The Night (The Phantom Of The Opera)
When the funding is cut So the hospitals shut That’s a Tory When the poverty bites And you lose human rights That’s a Tory Such excess Better reassess Better repossess Better get yourself private healthcare Overtaxed if you work Unemployed? Then you're scrounging on welfare When there’s bigoted views Blatant lies on the news That’s a Tory When the biggest and best Are too rich to arrest That’s a Tory But they’re lax Covering the cracks Never paying tax Claiming everything on expenses They can steal with a smile While they peddle their flimsy defences When they're guilty of fraud And they're banking abroad That's a Tory If they're selling your school When 'austere' means 'cruel' That's a Tory Too much spin Slogan and a grin Wearing pretty thin Bussing people in to applaud them Any law can be bought If you're well off enough to afford them That's all folks and remember, you can't spell Theresa May without heresy **
0
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
That’s a Tory (to the tune of That's Amore)
In department store foyers, free samples sprayed, A collision of cosmetics muddle the air. The olfactory overpowered by such obvious odours, Why do natural notes disconcert you? Not the gym heavy sodden or overworked, Recognition of an individual, whilst eyes remain shut. Faint trace of the familiar or frenzied pheromones, A headiness misplaced by the cologne wearing clones Preference for the perfumed, the artificial sweetener. Marketed meticulously Musk manufactured yet not made by man Of flowers dear, of oils and compounds. Fresh, fruity, citrus or spiced Artificial aromas keep your own scent disguised Society simulates this sophistication of the senses, Masking yourself from me as you are wooed, Accustomed to this attraction, till you let down your defences How shall I know you when you are ****
0
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
“Would you like to try our new fragrance?!”
Show me a field that is filled with golden flowers hours upon hours the smell of the grass elevates the scents that seems to send passerbys into an overdrive of envy. Lend me your hand so that my coarse skin is softened by yours, the door to my heart is forever open awaiting your entrance and the defences are fending off other fiends so don't worry about guard because as hard as it is to trust, I've let my guards down a long time ago. Show me that you can be the green to my gold let us grow old but never grow up as we play like kids let the bliss fill both our hearts as we unite together against the world. Girl, will you find it in yourself to love me? ...as much as I love you?
0
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
Let's Grow Old Together
Something here is not quite right. The days have become shorter And we are no longer certain Of our respective fates in the world. The times have changed and now We are all alone. There is no longer any light Guiding us and we are floating In a dark space from which there is no escape Or reprieve. Blank looks become our faces And we find ourselves wandering the streets Again, aimless and without reproach For our crimes. The things that once motivated And inspired us Have long lost their appeal And all of our prejudices and hates Have come back to haunt us, Again and again. We no longer hope for a better world For ourselves or for anyone, But instead Wish our pain upon everyone we see In these cold and bitter streets. The night is coming soon And with it will bring an end To all of this. There is nothing left except pain And suffering. The distance between us is widening. We no longer communicate. All of our technology Has enslaved us. We will all die alone And with a mountain of regret That we will never share with anyone. A noxious gas has descended Upon humanity and is filling Our very souls with its vapid waste And toxic demeanour And now we are forced to endure The coming dark age With no one And nothing to protect us Or save us. We wait patiently for our fate. There is no optimism. The time has come To lay down our defences And submit To the coming reign of terror. It is no use to fight anything. Our time has come And passed us by. We have failed. We have failed ourselves. We have failed our world. And we have failed each other. Goodbye. Good luck.
0
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 3:24 AM UTC
Pessimism
Something here is not quite right. The days have become shorter And we are no longer certain Of our respective fates in the world. The times have changed and now We are all alone. There is no longer any light Guiding us and we are floating In a dark space from which there is no escape Or reprieve. Blank looks become our faces And we find ourselves wandering the streets Again, aimless and without reproach For our crimes. The things that once motivated And inspired us Have long lost their appeal And all of our prejudices and hates Have come back to haunt us, Again and again. We no longer hope for a better world For ourselves or for anyone, But instead Wish our pain upon everyone we see In these cold and bitter streets. The night is coming soon And with it will bring an end To all of this. There is nothing left except pain And suffering. The distance between us is widening. We no longer communicate. All of our technology Has enslaved us. We will all die alone And with a mountain of regret That we will never share with anyone. A noxious gas has descended Upon humanity and is filling Our very souls with its vapid waste And toxic demeanour And now we are forced to endure The coming dark age With no one And nothing to protect us Or save us. We wait patiently for our fate. There is no optimism. The time has come To lay down our defences And submit To the coming reign of terror. It is no use to fight anything. Our time has come And passed us by. We have failed. We have failed ourselves. We have failed our world. And we have failed each other. Goodbye. Good luck.
Continue reading...
61
To drown in the void; a steadfast oxymoron But I am struggling to stay afloat My limbs lack sensation, mockery of my mind Vocal cords cut, stolen that night in the snow Carried to the cosmos on an angels back Helen, how you torment me! A thousand whispers, torrential and coaxing To find silence would be all end all; greatest defeat But what a warrior I found in you, Quiet and it's little reverie Infinite; feeling as though I should explode The quickness of newly discovered emption uncontainable But in solidation I am weak, without your armed defences And Helen is touching my skin again
0
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
Shortcomings of being a wallflower
So deliciously dark, The sultry taste of pure lust, Lingering upon my wet tongue; so hot! I smile, lapping up your slinky essence, Writhing, twisting, arching, resisting, Attempting to deny my devilish charm, Hiding behind flimsy veils of innocence. Only, I know, deep inside, you burn, No chains, or bonds, could ever hold you, Knowing you want me, so very much. Parting your hastily erected defences, I ****** you up; we plunge into the fire, As one, the flames consume, seared raw, Forging an emotional alloy, thrashed out, Hammered upon the anvil of sheer pleasure, Quivering, breathless, enraptured and blissful, Again and again, leaving us both sated, Still tasting of sultry lust, So deliciously dark. ©Paul M Chafer 2014
0
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
Deliciously Dark
I am often in awe of your wild mind, Despite your defences, I can see you are kind, I know you believe me to be fickle and blind, But I see you, and the reason for the wall you hide behind. There is wonder and beauty that light up your eyes, Yet everyone falls in love with your careful disguise, Pain finds its way through your laughs and lies, And there is sorrow within the man, that like a child, cries. You can turn all the frowns that you see to a smile, And upon seeing you, my clouds are cleared for a while, But who mends the hurt that caused your soul's exile? And when will you turn to face your denial? Your cheer does not mask the tragedy inside, Altruism will not change what you're trying to hide, Unreachable, unfathomable- two ideas within you, allied, To win the battle over self and thus deem you fortified. But this barricade will not defend against flame, Nature is power and emotion is the same, We are already on fire, to deny it is insane, So feel what you will, break the shackles of shame.
0
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 10:31 AM UTC
The Man
My train of thought takes me to an ethnic enclave of pride located in my dystopian head. Outside of this head of myne is a pink butterfly trapped in a grey cocoon. I’d leave this cocoon and finish my metamorphosis if I weren’t trapped in a spider’s web, this hideous cocoon is my only protection from it’s pain inducing bite. I’m always on high alert to defend myself. I must always keep my defences high and never let my guard down or it will take advantage of my vulnerability. The word stress is an understatement, I feel as if this web is draining me of life, as if it loves the taste of my misery. I am bewildered and overwhelmed with the weight of my ever growing responsibilities. Soon enough this spider’s patience will die out and I will be the one to take advantage of its vulnerability. Until then I wait. END
0
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
Pink Trapped In The Grey
My tight pressed lips, against Your tangent hips. Our hands yield to the symphony of surrender. Lay your defences down, Let our hearts pour out. Scantitly clad souls, Semi naked hearts, Ever so vulnerable. There are things far more important than ourselves. There are things that we love too much. that it hurts. even to let go. In our midst, it is each other. ''May I have the final dance under this perishable moonlight ?''
0
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 2:44 AM UTC
Her eyebrows are the colour of charcoal.
Some throw themselves to fire Some to a raging wave We throw ourselves at words Doubly as dangerous…but brave We string along a sentence We bleed line by line Scraping along defences We grind the grit and rhyme Defying the babblers battle Waging war with a world where words have no meaning or power when they’re hurled We’ll never decay or go rotten We’ll be writing till we’re read They may shut us till we’re forgotten   But they’ll quote us when we’re dead
0
May 4, 2023
May 4, 2023 at 10:17 PM UTC
Quote me
An exit for expression An admittance with no fee A mind free from excluding An exhibition without end The centerpiece- an installation Ever moving within its frame Its contents constantly disappearing To reveal a blank canvas to be filled once more The artist turns out to be me, and me alone Leaving my post is an improbability As the gallery holding me hostage is my own mind Yet in truth, I find happiness in this prison cell Without sleep I find energy from passers by Who refuel my passion with their coins Thrown into my hat beside me Tokens of positivity that they cannot directly give The door is always open Even to those who find fault with the artist Who tease me in my chained feet And hurl their abuse with intent to delay completion Yet still, I welcome companionship of viewers Without noticing the deviants who scratch away at my painting My selflessness renders me unable to notice evils Blinding me with the future I paint before my eyes My piece is never mastered For I am distracted by evils constant approach Presenting me with gifts of seeds, that grow in my soils Only to blossom as weeds, and eat away at all goodness But my grounds are open, and my job demands time Rarely do I have the time to look upon works accomplished But I steal a moment as sun and moon change shifts Only to be met a view that gives no happiness as before My stubborn positivity keeps defences up Protecting myself from taunters and ghosts who take refuge in corners I am distracted by my own optimism, the joy of what I do But it hinders me, in ways I cannot defeat My ability to seek vengeance was never yielded nor encouraged So instinctively as always, I turn not to the voices behind me And paint upon the canvas once more The doors still open
0
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
Alice in Chains
An exit for expression An admittance with no fee A mind free from excluding An exhibition without end The centerpiece- an installation Ever moving within its frame Its contents constantly disappearing To reveal a blank canvas to be filled once more The artist turns out to be me, and me alone Leaving my post is an improbability As the gallery holding me hostage is my own mind Yet in truth, I find happiness in this prison cell Without sleep I find energy from passers by Who refuel my passion with their coins Thrown into my hat beside me Tokens of positivity that they cannot directly give The door is always open Even to those who find fault with the artist Who tease me in my chained feet And hurl their abuse with intent to delay completion Yet still, I welcome companionship of viewers Without noticing the deviants who scratch away at my painting My selflessness renders me unable to notice evils Blinding me with the future I paint before my eyes My piece is never mastered For I am distracted by evils constant approach Presenting me with gifts of seeds, that grow in my soils Only to blossom as weeds, and eat away at all goodness But my grounds are open, and my job demands time Rarely do I have the time to look upon works accomplished But I steal a moment as sun and moon change shifts Only to be met a view that gives no happiness as before My stubborn positivity keeps defences up Protecting myself from taunters and ghosts who take refuge in corners I am distracted by my own optimism, the joy of what I do But it hinders me, in ways I cannot defeat My ability to seek vengeance was never yielded nor encouraged So instinctively as always, I turn not to the voices behind me And paint upon the canvas once more The doors still open
Continue reading...
40
You're not the same person I met, a year or so ago at that party. You're not the same person I knew, when we wondered all night around the city. You're not the same person I fell in love with, when we learnt of all the little details about each other. You're not the same person whose heart I broke, with my indecision of a future. I'm not the same person you met, with my defences up even stronger now. I'm not the same person you knew, when I used to laugh and smile at everything you did. I'm not the same person you fell in love with, my heart is colder and more bitter than ever before. And I am not the same person whose heart you broke, when you gave your love to someone else.
0
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
Person
A vicious dog came prowling in to bite and terrorise feasting on the beautiful, creative and the wise Chewing their creations and their principles to dust Leaving all their brilliance to crumble, fade and rust A snarling, grinding horror issued from its ****** jaws the sound rolled all around me like a wave of black applause I gathered my defences and prepared to go down well My work would be my armour to defeat this hound of hell My courage at the sticking point, my words in serried ranks my songs and poems all arranged like waiting Sherman tanks As those who had inspired me were cast down in their prime I knew the beast was coming, it was nearly closing time But just as I prepared myself to triumph or to die The wretched creature shook itself and passed me right on by It glanced just once behind it with a look that seemed to say, "You poor, deluded fool - I didn't want you anyway!"
0
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
A Vicious Dog
He, was in love with her plays her masquerade tragedies shakespearean days Her fences Defences Her armoured- Sensitives Her past her facade her lovely charm and, learnt, laugh The curtains close the room brightens But he'll fall in love again the next night, when they reopen.
0
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:27 AM UTC
Her Play