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Maman Screams Jan 2014
Burn my trees with
Raging spring's desires
Toxic my river with
Flowing summer's sadness
Pollute my air with
Falling autumn's hopes
Hold my heart with
Freezing winter's loves

Cycle this year
Slow perserverance
A step at a time
Patience guidance
Demanding sacrifices
Thoughtful fickled flights
Fairy tale's stories
Deceiving future plights

Weighing both shoulders
Declining all offers
Not all goods
Guaranteed for auctions
Bidding the worst
Inviting trial lessons
For our life's
Full of surprises

Grinding salts from
Summer's sadness
Drizzling our plate of
Spring's desires
Infused balance reviving
Autumn's hopes
Undying believes in our
Winter's loves

Life is a cycle revolving mystery
Spinning the air that we're breathing
Falling those tears our eyes are crying
Rising with smiles from our cherish presents
Rewinding the clock for our future predicaments
Not realising we will always be
A full circle

©2014 Maman Screams
Traveler Nov 2014
You come home late in your short skirt
You're such a flirt, that's what really hurt
I pretend to be asleep as you enter
You see at this game I'm a beginner
In my universe you've become the center
I'm never sure what to say or do
When I get the blues
So I act a fool

Under your breath you start to giggle
You crawl in bed and start to wiggle
My emotions get so fickled
  Inside I start to cringe
Cuz you need to make amends
Fast asleep I still pretend
Yet I guess you have your plan
And it's all that I can stand
When you whisper "You're my man!"

Don't wake me from this dream
It's not a bad dream
Hell I don't know what it means
First I start to waste away
Then you feel the need to play
Perhaps I'll figure life out someday...
Re to 12-17
Traveler Tim
Tate Morgan Jul 2012
A Poem by Tate Morgan


God once thought to give me a choice
by offering the chance to choose
I stood bold stance, and took that chance
to ever walk within his shoes

He then offered me five choices
Fame, Love, Riches, Pleasure, and Death
I will have won, when it's all done
so I thought as I caught my breath

Then so it was I chose Pleasure
with the thought to enjoy my youth
To run with the boys, through life's joys
happiness was my only truth

Pleasures that youth delights upon
were disappointing, then grew cold
Sun setting play, that every day
trickled my fingers through, like gold

So once again he came to me
"surely wisdom has found you now"
"Choose your fate, before it's too late
as I said, this I will allow"

"Fame" I said as he smirked at me
"I wish to be a man renowned"
"To play life's game, that touts my name
as one deserving of the crown"

But Fame was a fickled master
that led to Envy, Greed and Lust
A shinning star and giant car
that in the end had turned to rust

Once more God offered me a choice
of the few things that still remain
"Besides birth, only one has worth
try using your heart, not your brain"

"Riches then" I did say to him
"surely they can cure all my pain"
"To do what I can as a man
by amassing what I may gain"

Wealth was not the answer I sought
left me with nothing of what I won
When in the end, I had no friend
to rejoice in what I had done

So one last time he gave me choice
"Love" I said is what I would like
"A woman's breast, where I may rest
perhaps even a little tyke"

The time it passed so quickly by
as I then sat beside her grave
A-wash in tears, for all those years
spent chasing dreams, that none could save

"My life has run it's course" I said
"your final choice is the worst yet"
"My love I lost, at such a cost
all that's left of me is regret"

He said "since you have not asked me
for advice on what you should do"
"I gave Death in a dying breath
to one more deserving than you!"

" Why won't you grant me rest" I said
"what more is there for me to learn"
" That a life of greed serves no need
live with old age, till it's your turn"


Tate




© 2012 Tate Morgan
Written April 21, 2012
All rights reserved
It is always the bitterest of pills That which makes us look at ourselves for who we truly are. Not for the one we wished to be. Like many I am no stranger to vanity. We do not deal much in facts when we are contemplating ourselves.
Life has taught me there are three ways we are perceived.
1. The way we see ourselves
2. The way others see us.
3. The way we truly are
Fickled, fluttering of synths
Loop, lush, repeat
These fragments compliment my simple thoughts
My darting eyes craving to digest color and spectacle
I dance, obsess, whilst smoking my smoke as the separation between darkness and rejoice blur in an ever continuous ***** from below.
Procrastination and analysis of mental health.
sasha m george Dec 2013
idk
oh he’s giving me reasons
to write desperate love songs
to fill my notebooks with paragraphs
two and a half pages long
that don't shy away
from my hearts fickled tune.
oh baby, oh baby
you're making me swoon.
from: http://drunken-writing.tumblr.com/
zebra Jul 2019
Black eyed Venus
your lascivious confessions
a voice of thorns
made the priest *******
and for seconds he felt close to his god

i burn for you on this
iron jawed fire escape
crying on your thighs
as if landing on a dream
like a canon
that could take out the moon

feel me fickled fingers
I am potters clay
prom queen
*** goddess
luminous dusty winds
of the miraculous

everything is about death
even being born
clouds like asphalt flowers
and ancient monks

her mouth
wet like peaches and syrup
her beauty
an arrow in my throat
and the moon claims the light

i consume you a thousand times
before i die by your hand
oh so willing
tired of living in this dead house
of harsh destiny
palanquin of lust and blood
Lunarian Oct 2013
Sometimes I play the role of a good girl
I smile charmingly, an angel to the world
please and thank you are the secret words
to distract the wary enemy,from the harmless fragile little girl
By the time you trust me and leave me with your valuables
I've taken them all, sold to the highest bidder
I vanish from sight, ghastly figment of the imagination
and yet yu are taken
im beautiful
im sweet.
im unique
i make ur heart. skip a beat
u love the way the wind plays in my hair
highlighted hair of red and black  dances in the air
u trust me
but i cant b trusted
because i lie and i steal
and i bribe and ****
but yet u trust me
and now im twisted with fickled feelings
should i theive and **** yu or jus leave yu be?
i have alrdy taken from yu almost everything that i need
and yet yu trust and love and is captured by beautiful me
the dates were lies!  
the ******* were lies
it was jus *** and character. its how i live my life
trust noone and i wont get burned
**** em b4 they hurt me i wont b scorned
i wont b forced to walk and lie on hot coals
i wont be forced to rub myself in a blanket of fire and tears
feelinq misery because its wat  my ex brought on me for years
i stole money from yu and u smiling.
i stole things from yu and ur still feelinq good
i guess why u feelinq good now though. its me
and i cant bear the thoughts of yu actually fallinq in love with me
wanting me with ur being
and ready to share ur world with me
its better for me to just poison with this sweet cup of tea
and yu thought i was so beautiful and sweet
the only unique thing i did was **** yu with tea
i literally made ur heart skip and then stop beating
GaryFairy Aug 2013
Reverberating random radio waves
waves of blank blasting bells
bells of unfounded fickled fear
fear in cumulous clouded clatter
clatter of sick ******* sounds
sounds like you yearn your years
years of finding fallen failure
failure to see second sight
sight of blinded brilliant brain
brain farts form filthy fumes
fumes of angry artistic air
air is thick with wasted words
words that remain regretfully wrong
wrong way to tell twisted tales
tales of virtual visual *****

New style of poem i am working on. In first verse, the first three words must start phonetically the same. In the other verses, it must be last three words. Hard to make sense by these rules, but it was fun.
Sabrina DLT May 2010
The soft grey wave
is trickling in over the
Rose Hill that never
Bows, scowls, weeps or thinks.
Never sinks, never drowns or howls.

I see you weeping at her feet.
You move over her and blanket
her breast.
The Rose Hill stays bold.
And the cold is nothing new to her.
Soft and grey, it crashes down.
Flooding her feet. Fickled  and
Tampered, soft and grey , it recedes.

Rose, you are blushing.
It is all in your breast.
Death is in your chest and you bare it,
and lock it.
Corp cells circulate with mad cells
in your mad house breast.

Soft and grey it passes.
All that is left is a sky blue grin.
Sethnicity May 2015
I am the black sludge poured into morning mouths
The thickening blood like mucus oozing from the nose,
the failed vandal on the doorstep wringing
I felt this ick coming before, like bricks in the bell tower… Grimacing
I am the shifting surface of your beach front property
The wax of mudslide and sleep of glacier drift wiped away
You once tried to save me…,
But you should have saved yourselfrightchoseless… Sickening
I am the quite traveler giving ride to whomever
Provider of spectacles no testicales can compare
Hope you are ready for the next one cause my revolution’s in the air
Get the Mayans and the Call Lenders Cause I’m the blender you’re the pear!


Your thoughts fickled mine things
My water of youth your cesspool for fuel
The conduit of my poles peeled for golden rings
Have the nerve to say I’m not self-sustaining
Uninhabitable!   I’ve been more than hospitable!
What a virus that makes it self service unsuitable
To favor ill behavior for the sake of a savior
Your heads may bow to the east
But your *** still ***** none the least
Time after time provide I with a bountiful feast
So you Land on my Lover to satisfy your lust
Hover her then leave her collecting trophies, Moon Dust!?
Even the God of War has been fondled by your touch
They whisper, Oh how they want to flee me
They satellite and bend the light
And fore tell of my death
Well, Be Gone! And leave your clothes behind!
That flesh, My skin of desert and shore sand given.
The enchanted threads for your living experience
Be Gone! And don’t bother with packing up and cleaning
There will be no interrogation no exile from Eden

I’ll burn this wicked garden to the ground
Arrange my poles, and swish waters to cool it down
They are white clouds in my blackened blue atmosphere
Casting shadows on the crusted earth of my flesh
I frown a deep sound like bass clef
Their tall tale torn apart
The last vault too big to fail now broken Bonaparte
My molten core resurrecting to the surface
I smoke out for every hemp plant chopped and burned in vain
I offer fruit for Gods and you look pone it with distain  
These Human parasites stuck to my feet!
One whim of solar wind should cure me of their feverous heat


Ignore the Calendar your end will be what I vendor
NO refunds or replays back to binary Control Alt Delete’
You say the past will repeat yet look in a mirror, tongue and cheek
What is it that you seek? Have you forgotten My rule?
What you sew into me is what you reap
I’ve soaked in seeds of blood and tears now its harvest thyme to weep
Daniel C. Jones Feb 2012
My solitude comforts
Doubt, like a lover's lie.
His fickled fingered
Digits chokes my heart.

Second guessings elevated
to thirds, fifths, and sevenths.
Crippling and seducing
what ego and self reliance
I have, away.

My solitude that comforts
Doubt.  Betrays me.
I have no solemnness
nor reassurance.
I can not banish Him
I never welcome Him
But yet He stays.

— The End —