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Aditya Roy Oct 26
Romantic oceans
emulsifying notions
of pain
making a love potion
Affected by the motion
Of the brain
"Love is the flower let it grow"-John Lennon
To ill is scourge hazard of modern man;
The way of life which tricked you leaves you weak.
Before it pounced, prevent you must! You can,
Your visions blur, your limbs cut, your times bleak.
Avoid refined sweetness pure, you should know,
The more you love to eat the more you crave;
Your sweet tongue urged pleasures deals a cruel blow,
The more you indulge, closer be your grave.
This sickness gradual erosion of health,
Like shrinking pools merciless sun would drain.
A diabetic's woe: no amount of wealth,
Could stop the vines that binds and break the chain.
Without remedy and won't heal for good,
So sweat, please monitor intake of food.
Black surges, forges piling emotion,
Foraging, attaining such predicted erosion.
Color the rubies to a diluted amber,
Brittle, dripped gems are toxic, I clamber
To the lamp as to see my implicit devotion.

Vitals ascend, and I can't perceive
This motionless forfeit I often receive.
Aid is essential, it holds potential,
To cure this conflicted, addicted vessel.
My heart on my sleeve, I'm undeceived.

I implore to explore, as breath, I leave,
So close to dying, I'm on the eve
Of darker clothing, and flowers to family,
Hallucinate my abnormalities.
Yet somehow, I am still on my feet-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
WS Warner Jul 2014
Corpses proliferate in soaring violence; heirloom of franchise and eminence— perish in erosion.

Timid denizens of derision, cynicism in roaring silence — optimism’s paling vapor—commodity of Indecision, our halcyon days forgotten.

Chosen token of audacity; the onyx maladroit feigns, prevaricating beneath the Sacred canopy.

Etudes of apathy; attrition unlamented; streams of guile— quixotic squall conversely merge — veiled conceit, eloquent arrow of equivocation.

The policy of attenuation.

Treason’s vine obscured beneath the blind surf of consent.

© 2014 & 2016 W. S. Warner
Nat Lipstadt Jul 29
~weary weighted~

flummoxed are the sea watchers;
the long rhythms of sea change reveal only minor modesties,
difficult discerned are the tidal subtleties

though repetitive thrashing extracts it toll,
only the weary-weighted see the true meaning of the beating,
knowing full well,
it beats for them

recalling their early day’d fascination with its endless chaining,
now knowing all are similar
detained-chained,
and  the ******* churning but a cover up masque,
they need not longer conceal,
an unrevealed confess:

water is heavy-weighted, you cannot forever float,
constancy is of a thing to be wary,
its sadder longevity,
a chipping away erosion of wearing,
‘tis is the knelling noise of  sad respite,
an unlight lighthouse



~for Victoria, a year later~
Of all the years I spent as a ballerina, it is your tongue that has mastered the pirouette.

Of all the skillful bakers, your body is what leaves my mouth dripping.

Of all the the beaches to dwell, the most powerful erosion is your body into mine.

Of all the music to be orchestrated, your moans hold the sweetest melody.

Of all the artwork I have seen, you are the masterpiece I never tire to gaze upon.

Of all the poetry I have read, you are the greatest love story I want to memorize - always.
when swimming with dolphins
lost phase, depth of oceans

recurrence of persuasion
the cavities erosion

a pragmatic extension, the neural hyper tension

grace the evening
split precision aching

remedies for aging
repetition

of the alkaline waste
Tommy Randell Nov 2017
[Shadowplay 5]

                                        GOLD     RUST

                                        Today
             ­       for this blind man     The slow remorse
                                                         of Love's erosion
               the value of sunlight      in the presence
                                                        ­ of continued tears
                                as a means
                               of exchange
for our bodies ***** charms      is about as natural
                                                         ­ as the courtship
          or that a tan looks good      of  a heartless wind on bone
                                      on grey
   makes about as much sense      is as meaningful
                                                      ­    as any words

                                    as a duck     of comfort
                                  in a desert     of inevitability
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