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EAC Dec 2014
O' Fiddlesticks, The Harbinger of Doom
Do the crows know your woe?
A sad party, a crow storm parade.
A forbidden power, a dreadful surprise.
A draining link, to the fool who tries.
A lonely puppet, forgotten pride.

A haunting fright, left inside.
You know no bounds, without a brain.
A scarecrow with wooden pegged legs.
keila skie Dec 2018
I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night
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

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!)_
ryn Jan 2015
   Curious minds,
      splashing under
      outstretched kisses
     pulsating yellow,
     Over the awestruck
         Feverishly tracking each
      on sight.

   Resting the moment
    on a
     cresting knoll,
   an audience of several
      Whilst the
        whistling sirens
        in the winds do call...
          Wasting away
        the ticks of

        Evading with class,
       heart's turbulence,
        Craters of sadness
           in thin air,
             Glamorous amnesia
          with cadence,
         Eyes wide shut,
           lost prayer.

             Lifeless gazes
             abrasive tears.
             As erratum
              catches up
                with its
                 gaping maw.
            its anguish
             rips and shears,
              Bleeding out
               singing wounds
             so raw.

              time carries confident,
                its stock of
                   soothing balm.
                   Latent doses
                 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
                           ­ save gaping wounds,
                        ­     faint faith
                ­                   corroded limp
                                light away
                        ­         agony
                   ­                doom.

           ­                 *ryn
This has been an amazing experience!!! Big thanks to Moonskittles for the opportunity to share a page with her captivating style of poetry!!!
Sebastian Macias Nov 2017
What is life without
The intensity of pain?
When blood runs thick
Eyes are focused
The mind like a wildfire
Nobody sees the truth
The way truth
Should be viewed
I took it on a ride before
And now it has traveled back
After many long journeys
Welcoming me home
MY magic carpet of doom
meg Jul 2018
My heart won't let me forget
people that have made me happy.

It seems to extend it's claws
and force them up my throat,
begging me to mention those
who I have tried so hard to leave.

I don't think I'll ever forget you.
I won't forget what you said.
I can't forget the broken
memories you left me.

I stopped doing what I loved to
feed onto affection that I had to fight for.

I went so long ignoring sunsets
my toes tied themselves to the tide
so all I had left was a lost freedom
that followed and laughed at my own doom.

I've been holding volcanos
in my eyes and lava in my heart,
I won't let you break me again.

I won't give you a place in my life
if all you do is prance around in the
ashes of my broken heart, dancing
to the sounds of my tear drops against glass.

I dream of you, even though
you're lost in my memories.
Your lack of love was fabricated
by my broken heart and mended into
loyalty and hope that you could change .

I wish I could just slowly let you go.
I wish I could slowly **** you with kisses
and send you off to the sky.
Maybe I'd find you in the stars.

There is so much beyond our scars,
beyond the lines that tangle
themselves around and
over our bodies,we break so easily,
but that's only since we love so hard.

I'll still miss you every sunrise
and find you in each sunset,
but I'll whisper to the moon
I want to go to the stars each
night till I'm in space.
first poem i wrote in a month
Hirondelle May 12
Give her name to the moon...
you won’t be lost in a dark monsoon...
     Give her name to the moon...
     you won’t shoot tears like stars’ doom...
Give her name to the moon...
you won’t wallow under a milky rheum...
     Give her name to the moon...
     you won’t be lost in a stardust spume...

     At night, out on a lonely lane,
     a silhouette  beyond a fog hazed pane,
     damp in the cloudless, clammy rain,
     huffing his toils in fortune’s reign,
     would curl and slip down that foggy frame
     like his dreams had once down the drain
     and look with doused eyes whilom aflame,
     ((comets and pearled cheeks all the same))
     if not the moon he called her name
     and wiped away the night’s sombre shame...

     If not the moon he called her name!
     If not the moon he called her name!
Well, the moon etched her breath on big a wave.
     Silver enshrined but once sombre a slave
     did he heave and crest, then prostrate and rave.
     In devotion, woonwashed pearls did he lay
     at her feet on that moon gilded bay.

     Fizzing sobbing smiles in her silver sway,
     ((how he still))
     in frothy ringlets, does pool and pray
     that her lustre with him will always stay!

     ‘The moon is thy name,’ shall I say?
     ‘The moon is thy name,’ shall I say,
       and evermore at thy feet stay?

©️Hirondelle (12/05/2019)
Love is an ineffably beautiful thing. No matter how much we sail far into imagery, scale up verse, dive into philosophy, rocket off to starry symbolism or divine on melody, our appetite and curiosity will be but whetted! We live in poetry, so do we love, my fellow poets.
Jon York Nov 2012
One look at her and my thoughts could write a book
One kind word can go a long way
One instant can be an eternity
One smile can make a friend forever
One memory can last forever
One lie can break a heart
One word can touch a heart
One mean word can break a heart
One false move can spell doom
One kind gesture can make a friend forever
One voice can speak wisdom
One touch can show that you care
One touch can be felt forever
One step can start a journey
One negative reaction can build a wall
One "I love you" can bring down that wall
One **** thought can bring disaster
One **** thought can make for a long drought
One tear sometimes we try to hide
One rose can wake a dream
One poem can melt the heart
One look from a puppy dogs eyes says he wants to be your friend
One poem can make you feel that you are not alone
One word sometimes needs to be heard  
                                                         ­              Jon York           2012
patty m Jun 2017
Humpbacked night
full-moon above the sacred mound
gives light to her soft navel.  
Womanly secrets guarded in darkness
spread across the earth;  
Twigs snap, leaves rustle
a haze of pungent smoke greets dawn.  
Autumn walks on silent feet.
Her long raven hair cascades in beauty.
Behind her comes a bristling wind,
while overhead a flock of raven spirits portend
a shadowy doom

Winter catches Autumn unaware,
dragging her to his tepee.
There beneath deerskin intricately beaded,
intimacy plays out between them.
The animal in him crouches
warm within her womb,
but the cold within his heart
freezes Autumn's soul.

Across the village
a sentry cries out a warning.  
Spaced teeth in a ceremonial mask
smile vacantly at our impending plight
and soon a blizzard holds us fast.  

Brother wolf I hear you howling
above the flapping of wings,
fang and talon's hunger calling
blood scents heat in night long flight.
Kara Jean Jun 2016
Eternal doom is beauty enticing
The fairytale in a nightmare
There is no heaven or hell
There is a god and the devil
Neither one is in midst of prevailing
A fight tamed for human beings
Love is a defined checklist
Happiness is an experience
Trust ends the moment you say yes
Death is a panic emotion cold
Butterflies destroyed
Turned into soil
Growing the apple tree you eat
Turn down the noise
It's only morbid souls weeping
Andrew Jul 2017
This routine moon
Spells my doom
When it's a dragon's tail
Of a day that's failed
Like the rays that bailed
My time turned stale
When the moon kept appearing
Like the echoes I'm hearing
When I wake in the morning
To see the same plot forming
I try to escape back to sleep
For the repetition makes me weep
And curse the indifferent heavens
While waiting on my lucky sevens
To get me out of a life so mundane
I feel the constant need to switch lanes
But the routine moon haunts from above
When the routine life is missing all love
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2018
Calamitous collapse of structure forged
With steel and concrete built for time,
Since Roman times a formula endured
With engineers additional design.
Why, then, did this structure fail,
Did mortar crack, did reinforcing strong,
Shear and plummet in an instants time
To crush and doom this bridges song.

In teeming rain a  silence hung
Where watchers gaped in stunned awe,
A magnitude of devastation lay
Pulverized in valley floor.
Astonishing this expanse of space
Where seconds past, huge edifice,
Imbued with its’ charge of lives
Unknowingly to meet abyss.

Innocence has lost its’ life
Blame resounds around the room
Someone shall pay the price
For negligence in causing doom.
Truth be told it’s shared by all
For Italy has lagged behind
Cost cutting infrastructures’ purse
Because of economic bind.

Time to reassess the plan
Time to weep and bury dead,
Clear the rubble from the land
Rebuild well then forge ahead.
Blame not the engineer
Nor the man who drew design,
Blame not the hardhat
Who poured the concrete in the line.

Reassign the budget spend
To infrastructure, pay its share
For sentiment is running hot
To axe the fool who pares the fare.

Civil Infrastructure
This calamity is already impacting on construction projects and future design , cost and planning, worldwide. Risk is, very much, a major perilous factor in bidding and negotiation in the relationship between an infrastructure provider and buyer.
Michael Solc Jan 2013
Quickly and quietly they come in the night,
slithering, sliding into your room,
under your covers and out of sight.

Soft, scaly skin cold to the touch,
whispering "dear, you mustn't scream much".

Long pointed fingers wrap 'round your head,
they've found you cozy in blankets,
and now wait to be fed.

Can you hear the scuttle of claws in the hall?
Coming to find you,
coming to maul?

Clicking claws and soft little hands that are cold to the touch,
they’re whispering, "fear, now isn't it such?"

Dark little voices in a dark little room,
so often a haven,
now laden with doom.

Eyes shining coldly in the blackness you see,
fangs dripping with hunger
as they shiver with glee.

Dozens all over, waiting their turn,
they've come for your tears,
for your dreading they yearn.

Quickly and quietly they come with delight,
but it's all just a dream
so sweetheart, goodnight.
J Apr 2017
Squall borne aloft, wildly brewing;
Erudite words or malarkey
Bustling and rustling and howling;
This poor mooncalf's soliloquy

Snow came to lay on rolling hills
Extinguished surviving embers
Absent warmth to counter the chills
This lone, tortured soul remembers

Spring arrived, flowers grow in bloom
Butterflies morphed to razor blades
Star! Save me from impending doom!
As this replete ice thaws and fades

Summer warms trees and birds above
Kiss from the breeze of gentle sea
My lady's heart billowed with love;
Much love to give, but naught for me

Hope, a sweet promise and a sham
Such a cruel drug, a poison
Sure to put a man in bedlam
I stand, steady as a bison
Andrew Sep 2017
You float through air that doesn't care
The air you share that isn't fair
The air that makes me think we're a pair
I wound up in your wind tunnel
Not understanding it's singular funnel
When you were there
I glided through air
But then you had to fly
As I fell from the sky
Cursing your absent kind

You swept me off my feet
With your tornado broom
Until you were complete
In sealing my doom

Your wind carries loneliness
With a scent of love
I recognized the phoniness
In the flight of doves

Your hypnotic breeze
Put my mind at ease
Until you began to tease
Whispering wild winds into my ears
My hurricane head hammered with fears
Of the intensity of the high velocity
Of your elemental wind monstrosity
For it brings powerful gusts of sorrow
When it's your oxygen I must borrow
If I hope to see tomorrow

Your air is cold
My heart's not bold
And begins to fold
Under the weight of your wind
My mind is giving in
And my eyes start to make clouds form
When your absence creates a lonely storm
patty m Mar 2017
Cornered like a rat in a cage,
unable to vent my mental rage,
trembling on the brink of doom,
I stand submissive in my gloom.
I blink my eyes to hide the tears
and smile a smile to hide my fears.
I ***** my way through daily chores
and long to be behind closed doors.  
I focus on my paperwork
to chase away the thoughts that lurk.

The answers to questions are slow to arrive,
the curse of not knowing makes it hard to survive.
This stifling suppression creates a knot of suspense,
paralyzing my mind and makes muscles tense.
The mushroom cloud rises
the dread day is near,
my depression consumes me,
                                 I'm no longer here!
Bison Feb 2016
On my first day of dying I met the sun.
A funny fellow he played tricks on everyone but it was all in good fun.
All in good fun.

On my second day of dying I met the moon. She, like me, was quite morose. Full of darkness her gloom seemed to mirror my doom.
Mirror my doom.

On my third day of dying I met the earth. A babbling brook and mountainous mirth. She spoke of living and of the renewal of spring, her birth. She kept me warm in her hearth.
Warm in her hearth.

On my last day of dying I met you. A beautiful soul, bright and true. I heard you laugh and sing to the deep blue. Ice for eyes and fire for heart you carried me through.
Carried me through.

On my first day of living I met myself. I never would have made it without your help. Now my misery lives quiet on the shelf. Our children play like fireflies in Springtime's golden wealth.
Springtime's golden wealth.
Marya123 Aug 2016
One year can change it all
It can make you rise, it can make you fall.
One year can blow your mind
Into the dust of forgotten land mines.
One year can **** the soul
Shrapnel holding together broken whole.
One year can bring you hell
A gaunt face with no good stories to tell.
One year can make you search
For bad answers that leave you in the lurch.
One year ago today I left for doom
As the demons lurked waiting in my room.

Yes, one year can change things
Cowering in fear of what the future brings.
Weathering out life's ****
Trying to get up once again when hit.
Every day a battle
Of a mere calf against the best cattle.
Is it won? I know not
I’ll only give it everything I’ve got.
Oh it hurts, will I find
What I’m looking for, leaving past behind?
These are small questions I can put out there
As my fingers work till they’re worse for wear.
Justin Griego Jun 2011
I don't write lyrics, but I do have flow
I don't write music, but I do have soul
I'm not an artist, but a picture I'll paint
  Sistine Chapel leaves you thinking I'm a saint
I don't play sports, but I do play minds
I'm not a catcher, but I still show signs
I'm not a racer, but I still cross lines

I'm not a witch, but I'll still cast doom
Not the undertaker, but I'll set up your tomb
Not a fortune teller, but I can spell your demise
I'm not a magician, but I can see your surprise
I'm not a gardener, but I can plant you in the ground
I'm not a devil, but hellish is my sound
  Demons in the room have come to stomp you down

I flow freely, 'cuz I'm a bad-*** poet
But I'm not all bad. Here, let me show it
I can make your heart beat to the sound of my melody
  Make you love-sick; I'm sorry, there is no remedy
I'm like soldiers in the dirt, always brave
I'm strong, and I'm bold, and I'm a slight knave
Always protecting innocence with the tip of a glaive
*  Now this time I must remember to hit save
Another Insomniac Poem
RBWhite Apr 11
She soars in a black horse in the death of night,
All the elements are chasing her,
Running faster than time and light,
But nothing can reach her lust for faustus stars,
In a moment,a cruel lightning busts out of her scalp where her mind used to shine,
Her hair rains heavy drops of blood,
A woman made of doom and dust,
Not won or lost,
But she remains to be a legend among Known Gods.
This poem belongs to my poetry series BLACKXPOETRY,Enjoy!!
kevin hamilton Aug 2018
“what is this
that i have done?”
i say, plucking certain doom
from each collapsing star
cruel eyes
on the road

please understand
that i think about you
every night
and i've been losing sleep
over all the pretty things
evading me
Sofia Von Jul 2014
Bewitched in the bass
Too much tail ta chase
Say he like tha way i slurp, no straw
Just Raw, Joint-click-lighter-flick
herb's tha word
mums out for the night slammin her beau just like the dough
to my room,
pop a shroom in Cancún
**** the doom of that mother ****** test.
due in a few
This ***** slew molly be on me
Pop an ollie
flip the switch bae
lets ditch this day and ****
like its flowin poetry SLAM
thighs thunder for dat lightning ****.
Imma bring that **** back.

We've seized this moment by storm
Now Lets tear the walls down
This land is our land
Now let your freedom flag fly
Lets get higher than the sky
And cry cuz nothing tastes like forever

Baby's powder makes the urking voice louder to DO SOMETHING instead of this hollow nothing
I stuff with stories and dress in Lubriderm
Cuz that ***** soft, baked
this cake ain't delicious
See them standing on the podium of promises
Tickling us to wed them into power
As we stand under the burning sun, sweaty as ever
All ears to their flowered words of which they caress
And powdered our minds with.
They donate maggi, salt, wears and the root of all evil,
To further blind our minds and instinct.
Like goats following a hand with a palm fruit,
We chased them with high hopes to the polls,
Like Esau of old we repay their donation with our votes.

Their desires were met, now in power
At serious battle against their promises,
Our faith getting lean, our hopes bleed in response to their policies.
The opposition jubilant for the failure of the electorates.
Soon, they awoke into reality, spur to abort incumbent reign.
Some took to bombs, guns, cutlasses, few to the streets.
The opposition soldiers are thugs, always hungry to ****.
The masses weapons are their mouth, placards,
And solidarity songs, they walk and sing.
They say when elephants fight the grasses suffer
I wonder who are the elephants or the grasses indeed.
A  place that suppose to be our home now a battle field
Where everyone fights for self survival
Forgetting the unborn, our toddlers, our heroes past.

It is high time we talked and sack the thugs
But who will moderate
Who will faithfully give audience, who will sincerely talk?
The elite, the elected seems like they are war ready
They have well set up their political troops
A war they won't stand to fight
But escape through thinning air off our sight.

In a molding  state
Pigs dare to preach sanity
In a world of questions, ignorance remain the worst cancer
And the apex poverty.
Let not fold our hands and live to die in this doom
If your lips are scared, let your pen speak.
Let not throw in the towel
Until we justfully elapse the reign of the unwanted in one peace.
The inspiration for this poem came from the power struggle in my country and how  we have been very unlucky in getting a leader that all can fully accept. Our leaders here barely keep their promises.
w y n n e Nov 2016
What I consider night may be day to you
I was the night and you were the day
and we could never be together
you start each day with your light that shines with hope
I end it with the darkness that hides one’s doom
Every day I wait for the sun to rise and set
For those are the only times we meet

But I'm hoping
that maybe one day
or one of these nights
Maybe if I tell the world how I feel about you,
Do you think the world will let us be together?
or maybe if we are real quiet the world will forget about us
And we could be together

There will be
no more need
for whispered confessions
of midnight secrets
no more tears
and a shed like cold rain

When that day comes,
there will be no distance between us
I sincerely hope there will be a room for you and me,
nothing but skin.
pluviophile Sep 2018
you are like the sun
i might be flying too high
wanting you
you are further than i can reach
but close enough to hurt me
i can feel you melting my wax as
i come closer longingly
ignorant of my own doom
because i only realized
how little i knew you
so as i make a last attempt
my own wings tear apart
and i'm left
falling alone
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