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Frank Keegan Mar 2014
Heavy black clouds
darken the entire sky
an imposing dictator
now rules the horizons

pertinent
petulant
grinning
seditious clouds
mercilessly grinding
devouring
cotton candy clouds
silky satin clouds.
Bright heady clouds
now smothered, abused
all conceding
they themselves are
now transformed
en bloc!
oh great one
allow me to intercede
so all bow low below
Allow me to bellow
Wasteful wistful wisps
Of white fluffy bits into –
A war cloud!
One that gets respect
A heavy dark full-bloodied cloud
Into a real cloud
A cloud to die for
So gallant brave foot soldiers
beat the war drums with
whittled willow sticks
thunder-bolt strikes  that
invoke the terrain spirits
alert the earth sprites
enlighten all mankind
so sombre September skies may
weep woefully
for all the living,
the departed, too.
.
lightning strikes
faces flash-overed
frying
flesh fresh
weeping
unpeeling crawling
exposing
feeble fibia bones
splendid rip raw effect
lightning sheets that reflect
vivid vibrant violence
inflicted on hapless victims.
Therefore ... I propose
simply do not court disaster
Serve but one Lord and Master
Oh menial lowly caste civil clouds
Pay homage to your Ruler
Recognize and realize –
CUMULONIMBUS!
Janan Jul 2018
Isn’t this confusing?

To be a hopeless romantic

Searching for your twin flame

Curving the mundane

To find The one whom is equally yoked

I'm Lost and wandering

In what once was
familiar territory

But this open space has

Transformed itself into battle grounds

I'm sparring viciously for one's attention
Because there are women

That are willing to lose their identities

To faces with no name

And are often times too eager to spread
Fibia bones to avoid the vacancy in their beds

And then there's me;

Attracting men

That only latch onto women for therapy
Refusing to take responsibility for their own healing

Claiming a Queen as his property

Because he fails to have control over his own life

and i have learned how to adapt in this chaos
Forcing to close myself off

From the one thing I've wanted so badly
Creepstar Jan 2016
Sick skillin'
Like a villain
Inkin like a saint
For the ***** I be fillin'
My style you just can't taint
I'll tear out ya tibia
Ya fibia
I'm sick of ya
I'll leave you lying ****** muddy
In the streets of lybia
Hungry mother *******
have no trouble getting rid of ya
And if your country had of loved you
Then they would of hidden ya
Before I had a son
I woulda grabbed a gun
Put it to my head
And chased myself to the other side of a darker place
But then I see his face
Reminds that I gotta be a member of the human race
And to find my place
Keep him right so he don't fall from grace

— The End —