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Waverly Mar 2013
Across town, there’s no across. It’s just the town.

The dogs being fed by master, master toys,
Makes dogs bend, cower, quiver, then shoots dog
Out of the bow. Dog gnaws air through gritted fangs,
Finalizes his stupidity, gives up on his own self-confidence,
And lets it roar with a hand up his ***.

The pigeons coo, cluck, ****, fly,
Coo, cluck, ****, fly,
Coo, cluck, ****, fly.

Foxes run around the yard chasing tails,
Motives based in circles,
Saving slowing down and puking for death
as they Yap like pups.

Master watches from a high gallery
of Windexed windows so clean,
That you can see master’s muscles tightening as master laughs.

happiness and darkness.

Cars, trains, automobiles,
Flying machines, high ideas, fulfillment,
Continuation, carbon and all things irrelevant,
Master loves you.

In town, Pop tells the kids he’s on his way,
Mama shatters into a million brilliant pieces,
And Grandad’s sigh comes out his mouth with the care of a habit.

The kids are corralled into the basement to play,
mess with each others genitals, and put on azalea dresses
And heavy suits with black ties.

With all the venom of moths
They let their little mouths flutter in the dark,
as Mama and Poppa hurl everything they can.

Master gets drunk on equilibrium,
High on acid, perks, dipped bud,
Brushes teeth with alcohol
And spits out his/her teeth in the morning.

Way after the dogs were put to bed to tuck their tails in their legs,
The foxes following suit, the pigeons in the middle of the mess, somewhere.

Mom, Pop, Kids, Grandad, finished talking in low voices around 11:16 pm.

As they shredded the charade, ashamed at all its pieces,
Their mouths watered; I have no hope.

Across town, it’s not a town,
It’s a random house.
Clare Sep 2020
His awesome silence
Allays the soul

His beautiful silence
Blesses our spirit

His calm silence
Comforts our heart

His deafening silence
Dramatises His presence

His eloquent silence
Eludes all words

His frequent silence
Finalizes all questions

His glorious presence
Gratifies the senses

His Holy silence
Hushes our being

His incredible silence
Illuminates our minds

His judicious silence
Judges all matters

His kingly silence
Kindles a flame

His long silence
Lingers all night

His mysterious silence
Mystifies His aura

His necessary silence
Negates all doubts

His outstanding silence
Outdoes our interference

His peaceful silence
Precedes all victories

His quick silence
Questions our motives

His royal silence
Restores the poor

His sudden silence
Surprises the proud

His tangible silence
Touches the searching

His unique silence
Unravels all misconceptions

His voiceless silence
Visits the hasty

His wonderful silence
Washes all fears

His X-ray silence
X-irradiates our consciences

His yuletide silence
Yields to reflection

His zesty silence
Zooms into prosperity
Lola Lucille Sep 2013
The silence is deafening
Almost materialized
As he finalizes
One last good bye
How many more years will lapse? surpass so fast
At the speed of sound
With so much left unsaid
So much to regret
So much to over analyze
Time and time again.
The way your eyes meet mine
From across the room
Inevitable, yet that smile
Still renders me hopeless
Completely paralyzed
How words descend effortlessly from your lips
Yet speech escapes me
For how could words ever do justice to a smile
That zapps every cell
ignited
Electrified
Leah Grave Apr 2013
It starts with one.
One day.
One moment.
One time.
One choice.
One mistake.

It continues with too.
Too much.
Too fast.
Too many misunderstandings.
Too undeniable.

It ends with three.
"I Love You."
"I Hate You."
"We Are Over."

It crumbles with four.
Four empty days.
Four sleepless nights.
Four drinks.
Four doses.
Four fights.

It disintegrates with five.
Five weeks.
Five breakdowns.
Five ideas that should be let go of.

It finalizes with one.
One day.
One moment.
One time.
One choice.
One mistake.
Makenzie Marie Jun 2015
Most of the time
it's a four letter word
that you want to avoid.
But this one is different
in so many ways.
It's longer--
in the pangs of pain it leaves...
That pain lasts longer than any butterflies.
Because butterflies come in the beginning,
and no sooner than this word is spoken
their wings are broken
leaving them unwilling and unable to fly.
And the pain you feel,
the pit in your stomach,
and the cloudy darkness in your eyes,
is how this word leaves them to die.
It's the "hell" in hello
(and there's no good part of it,
despite what you've heard.
What does that even mean, parting on "good terms"?).
I mean,
sometimes it's what you need--
this ***** word--
it's sometimes necessary.
But even fragile butterflies' wings
need provocation
to be broken
the glass won't shatter
with simple words unspoken,
or their beauty being forgotten.
Their crystalline glass has to crack
before it meets the breaking point.
But maybe it's best, sometimes, leaving things unsaid.
Maybe it's better
pretending that your heart hasn't bled
for the death
of those beautiful creations.
Maybe all can be well,
not tainting your hello
by dragging it through the muddy waters of hell.
But maybe attempting that
is diving straight into the deep end
damning yourself to all but drown
in that personal
pool of hell....
But maybe once this word is uttered,
you're damning some part of yourself as well
letting go of what once was so special.
And maybe that's why it's a ***** word.
maybe that's why it'd be better
if it were only four letters.
Because this word darkens skies,
and kills butterflies.
It breaks hearts
and diminishes the light
in Innocent's eyes.
This word ends hope
of new beginnings,
or anything close to extra innings.
This word reminds you you've lost the game.
This word finalizes the score,
no matter how much you might want more
time
or conversations,
or butterfly wings.
This word is a light switch,
but it only reads "off."

so say
g̶o̶o̶d̶bye                                              ­    
to the lights
the "maybe"s
the  "someday we might"s
and the butterflies.
Those butterflies died when we uttered goodbye.
brandon nagley May 2015
Glossary of generics, favourer of all merit, ****** to detach detained editorial.

Some come in softly, hard heads take big splats. Lukewarmness salts thy unfruitful earth, where newborn births are stars to their own mania's, Cranium's go connected! Stretched parsels to broken fibula's!

Moralist preachers teach to the misbehaved, can you account for the thousandth day you've encountered?

For the slaves you've made out of your own bloodline, you've lost much of your own commandments you lowly persuationer!!
Old partied savourer!!!

Dissatisfaction finalizes all authories where glory is none, cheatings no more fun? Haha for you can clap your solid hands to gentled tears, for missing years are operetic in cower and palate!!!!!

Wake yourself to thine nail, strike one time with a mallet for all reasonings gone, gone, gone . when its you that has lost,

When its thy world who hath won!!!
Onoma Nov 2019
chasing light like Monet

upon a landscaped

nondifferential

mind-palette.

as the winter solstice

finalizes the shifty

tonalities of its monochromatic

black.

entering

Rothko's Chapel.
Tamera Pierce Nov 2017
I am currently going through
A rough time.
I have kinda been saying this since elementary school.
At first, it was the death of grandmother.
Two weeks before my eighth birthday.
I guess that was God was saying,
“Happy ******* Birthday, expect the rest of your life to ****.”
That Christmas, I found out that my “daddy”
Wasn’t my daddy, but my stepdaddy
And my real father was a pill pumping *******
Love you, dad, xoxo.
New Year’s my stepdad leaves my mom
And kidnaps my brother
We are homeless
My mom starts drugs
I am assaulted by my uncle
He sticks his finger in my mouth
I cry.
He leaves too.
We move in with mom’s new boyfriend
We starve
Get hit
Listen to them wither.
I cut myself for the first time
Foster care
Drunk man tells me I’m pretty
Until he found out I was a ******.
Maggots crawl through my floor
I write my first poem
I move.
Stop my mom from suicide
Stop myself from suicide
Drive a car for the first time
Mom meets another man
For my 16th birthday
He wants to make me woman
He touches me for months
Takes my pants off
I cry.
I don’t tell my mom
Then I do.
She kicks me out.
I live with my boyfriend.
My grandfather, finalizes his will
On thanksgiving.
I spiral down to the point that I hate holidays,
Find no joy in the regular days,
Feel nothing any day.
Hell.
Is what I am living in.
there's only
one
love puppet
you see

the one
with BIG eyes
that looks
up to you
as she finalizes
her fantasy

a trifle bit confused
but once she met you,
her world
was just now
filled with
******

******... ..
a word that,
before you,

she had
never fathomed
David Hilburn May 2020
Patiently yours
Welcome home, to a daring
Here and now, the irony to detour
A sweetened burden, that also is hearing

A heart of dismay
Share and see me, have a love
Letting simple is and ask, become a world to say
And cope with a curiosity of yours, us

Spare the sworn duty, and make a little kiss a dream
Timely to a different cause, we have the silence
Of a coping that has seen the better, become a team
Effluence is such a work to admonish, like again

A butterfly in the stomach
A butterfly with a song in heed, and minding the gift
You made, for appreciation's start, look where we look
Talk where we talk, and walk where we walk, is...

Ruin we will know, the run to future strength
And a happier deed, than a clash with possibility
That saw the unique have the dream, we took for lengths
Of another guarantee of when avidity finalizes a smile, we could see...

— The End —