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Meghan Aug 2018
Kneel or don't
Stand if you please
But won't
Once a sign
R E S P E C T
when was it taken awry?

All it takes is one
One
Bad apple spoils the bunch
One
Squeaky wheel gets the grease.

They say time flies
But not fast enough
Remembering hurt
We've never felt

Only when generations
Lost in time
Can tie their binds
To that time
Will we begin to remember
To forget
Not forgotten
Just scarred.

As flesh heals
And wounds bleed no more
Will we, as a Nation,
Come together
And stand as one
Indivisible
Against all odds.

And no One
Shall be
ONE.
We all,
Our whole...

I wish
This peace should come
In my time
But all
Will be
A memory
Of dust.
The Red Rain of Kerala wrote this Plague
Un-supported by Evidence and Song
As it wept and bled that once-thirsty Plain
Locals knew their throats will not dry too long
But how could they drink this very strange Guilt
When their Sheets un-furled like the Flags of War
And not until the Google-Heads came in
They realised it was foreign before
Samples were taken in pursuit of Cause
Then page by page those Suspects came to light
Was it Bacteria? Or Lichens-at-Lost
Either way there was some Blood to incite.
When those Findings end, much was to conclude
Which Creation's Purchase falls upon you.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Here comes the sun little darling's
We all get burned
 Is it your turn
     "U-Turn"
Oh! Where I thou
"Green light Diner"
It's telling us to Go
    *       *       *
The Earth beauty faces
I will be your direct sunlight
In plain sight to the daylight
her blossom tree
All I ask come for me
Her face could eat
The divine flower laced

French brie
Tie a yellow ribbon on me
We have so much to see
Let it be sun-face Moms
apple pies
The Sun  "Watchtower"
Someone knocks you off
Your "Bill" on the Ice Queen

The Goddess rodeo waitress
She got you roped in between
The cigarette 1940 case hostess
             "Rose"
I suppose the sunflowers every booth
her smile sets in place

The stain-glass window Notre Dame
Rock and roll hall of fame
The earth kids rainbow chalk
Sun-fun treetops like a beanstalk
Napoleon Elementary Watson
New Jersey Diner capital admission
The Peking duck *** luck

European beauty hunter's menu
Any luck this will be awhile sip "Starbucks"

1-Antipasti cute Shiba Uni
2-Consomme Chicken soup
3-Sun-face to the soul fruit loop
4-Chicken pepper Salsa
Sun-face lights up Visa
5-Hearts of Artichokes Mona Lisa
6-Soy ****** salmon
My sun worshiper man

Fish tacos hummus
St Thomas
Rome was not build
In one day
The windpipes and
the tablecloths Oh! yikes
Full of dream pipes

Sun tan stripes and zebras
Couscous salad big star dipper
Egyptian Gods camels back
Sun-face diner no time
for the sun-chip snack
Diners from 1920-1940
Sun-face air force dresses

Medieval times two swords
Holy lords Easter parades
" Ice-cream Spumoni"
Dinner in the sky
Robin red breast fly
Italian artwork Coliseum
Look up in the sky
It's a bird shaped
Paper plane bad romance
going insane

Waffle House  jukebox rock and roll
Hall of fame whats in a food name
Cowboy steaks American Flags
Cajun chicken legs fruits and figs
At the caboose Ladybird jet lag
Valentine Diner chairs
got footloose homemade goose

Purple rain Prince maple
pancakes
Bananas and strawberry fields
lake sun in shape of a snowflake
Forest Gump changes to
Presidential Trump
Vitamin C  honey bunches of Oats

Yummy floats of egg cream
Open table Sun-face dream
Eggs light she's not finished
over easy
Pristine of carrots with
artful daisies
Thanksgiving turkey

Rings of napkins holding
A time well-bred marriage
Well known landmarks of
Carats
Long ago time she saw the light
Daylight Knight like a scale to weight

Whispers of wine and grapes
Sun face courtesan love escape
Sun Faces trillion times mansion
Sun-faces never go out of fashion
Sun faces and dinner places the best in the world eat heartily Drive in and Diners all over the world have a medieval touch with the Vikings and melodies from the heart  of the surface  her smile will always be there everywhere she goes the Diners place her with Rose
Jonathan Jul 30
We chased a feeling
not a reality

We both wanted someone
So desperately
that we found each other

Even though no part of
us
worked

Our pieces didn’t fit together
so we pressed and jammed them
until they were stuck
and stayed that way
Until
we broke

-red flags
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
This is not, a time to loosen up
Or nine to five job to give up
Just saddle up the power is in you
Five ladies cafe to dine at five and
drove_* the meter is running
(The Canadian Cup) team versus the
     Taxi Cup
He swooned you in your
Five dreamy but half heart sugars
Come on Baby bloomers
Let's see some boom!!

In your hips men will be men taking
frequent flyer trips temptation 1 2345
We need fewer digs one love teo reasons
World  345  heart flags
We don't have to cross our hearts
Perhaps tattoo heart legs no more strikes
Jumping Jack flash
What a rope in this isn't the Pope

Somehow we all get broke
To court her like your the lasso
stars cosmos hearts like Lassie
Never a change of subject how it
remains in your heart how it hit hard
to react but changed to five cards
Digging too long  lucky 777 like heaven
Heart digs

1-where?
Oh! There

No, I am here
We are always  
In-between
numbers_ I only
have 5 minutes
No I phone have a heart
Oh! where is designed for me
Those five plates

Whats in between them
      *Him

We are opening Live- Five
Strong heart to give the caring
The useful heart is never so daring
My gate* Girls are nail digging
Hugging

Or losing add +

Flirty
*****
Our community
Heftier like Jupiter
Heart to build
the gravity
A big kiss hunch
of five roses

Your getting to bloom
but only have
5 extra movie parts
The front dress mermaid tail
Your heart delicate hands
opened up your emails
I think you hit the
Jackpot

Max to the million shot
No heart of gold
Only more leaders
Scrambling and digging
your fork
Mixing those egg beaters

Five men think they know
there women
like ten
commandments
Turn to five wrong
engagements
There it goes the lucky
five arguments

A plot beating
like a hot-shot
The French Baguette
Bread 9 to 5 firecracker
Five-carat baguette
wedding band in her safe
Heart digs to five hands
Heart neck guilty as a giraffe

The cafe house had only
5 cups left  they sold you out
Only Five Bed and breakfast
stayers
Do detailed with their Ladyfingers
But need more alone time
Be on time get sweet key lime
What is real-time so sublime

That rose- paper cut- origami
Sorcerer of five he was like the
cold cuts of big Sub Salami
Japanese sword samurai
What a Geronimo Oh! no
Jericho
This wasn't a hot potato

Or Gizmo No-Go
Getting a shot for Polio
The gusto songs to the heart play
Maestro the Cosmo's
The five stars to heart his
afterglow
Like a titanic ship but heroics

Five lunatics wedding horns ******
Five two timer Mario gamers
so demonic
DOMINO'S bed five students wed
We dug deeper get-up sleepy-head
Exposed cries location set
Network U- dig cups

Something lip curved
He misplaced my lips
What did he do in exchange
More stocks and hard stone rocks
Like frying pan egg
scrambled words

Crossed heart Rapper so believing
The Fox five sticking tacky glue
His CD Rose lying pants no clue
Painful pointed shoes need R&R
     Robin's *Responsibilities
       The Heart On Replay
The deeper you dig to restart

The healthy organically grown brain
Men on Pause I truly believe nature
takes its course
but another beat to go is that so?
And if so heart digs to five
Feel the good vibe in another tribe
Five times I had to wake you up
I am the love cure reminiscing

Giving me five reasons
Our beautiful change of
heart in season

Studying the fine art heart
Referencing
Never refusing thats life
five-step to strive nothing
Fancy

Robin shoutbox she getting
her point across
Either you're the worker or loner
The heart pleaser the boss
Your heart looks good
on your dress
Whether we win or deep mess
The good heart can change to
a bad start

Recharge your heart count to five
Venus- beauty moved on like a
pathologist digging over staying alive
The hearts what digs this is not the 9-5 workers we are talkers
and long settling in heart walkers come any join me we may actually be alive did I get a live one
Sam Hawkins Jul 2018
Last night, a spiraled light
it caught and submerged me--
carrying far off
all my fears.

My drum-pulsed heart was flying.

I rose and weaved my airy way
among jagged mountain rock--
my path opening, opening

until a high-arched gate appeared,
laced with colored flags
and I moved through it and beyond.

In a while I saw among distant shadows of villagers
and wisps of smoke a child there, sitting,
her back to me.

Are you my teacher?
Yes, she said, though not with words.

What do you have to teach me?
Be simple.
this is a generalization account of an "upper world  journey" I took the night before. this is what happened. shamanic journeying with a drum pulse as "vehicle" is a technology. Seek out a highly trained practioner as a guide...if you wish to travel. Anyone who studied with Michael Harner (now transitioned) is a ringer! I am not permitted to be a guide for others.
patty m Mar 2016
Dropping flower petals into the water
voices merge, lifting in song and prayer,
I wish that I could join them,
instead I whisper my prayer
very quietly, hoping that God
might hear me.

Brief deceptive gleam of sun on water
that catches the eye,
now hollow as dried driftwood, light as foam,
everything conspires against me even the weather;
Tumultuous sky, the squally wind squeals through wires, rattling flags.
The sea is glaucous with strange phosphorescence;
I sit watching rabbit tail grass flicker and bob palely in the wind,
the insects hum and the grass whispers.
Adrift in tides the
sand beneath my feet
spills centuries of debris,
shells, bones, pieces of fossilized matter,
fragments of unimaginable time.
Fire flies often dance here and the crickets sing in
warm grassy hollows

Somehow we co-exist, men exerting surly independence
trying to climb above the wretchedness.  
I take a loving look backwards
at this seaside town, and the boatloads of wood
brought in to fuel our fires.  
Now the rain pummels in endless drops
forming ever bigger puddles,  
flooding dreams gone to seed.  

Perspectives collide,
this is my way of life
even when it becomes bland and unsettling.  
All the icing on the cake has washed away
why cling to ghosts with their warm persuasive kisses
in the poetry of moonlight?  
Now the fire has burned out, leaving me cold
with only the ghosts who slide through end of day.
CK Baker Aug 2017
the banners are blowing steady
(fully extended in the hot august wind)
contemporary in style
tightly trimmed
and all gloriously dressed
in the latest colors and hues
it’s a fleeting distraction though
as the caskets
and children
and grieving widows
are rolled steadily across
the burning tarmac

it’s the beginning
of that inevitable
two part proceeding
a skotoma for the ages
delusionary in nature
rich in grays
and eerily reminiscent
of that foreign reign
clipped in silence
with dark roots of fear
set deep in the bowels
of a chapter
of unimaginable sin

indifference as pronounced
as the accompanying salutes
haphazard sentiments that are
cloaked in the horror
of endless
aborted days
forgotten buggies
and bunkers
and rat packs
how could the switch
be set so wrong?


it’s truly an illusion
(this way of the world)
simple indulgence can grow
so beastly and consuming
try telling the tale to the
tibetan monks
or broad peak sherpas
(those boys know how to get it done!)
how to bask in
the ice cold waters
how to savor
the lava hot falls
couldn’t the others
have figured this one out?


the flags have settled
at half mass
and are tinted
in a charred yellow brown
the lifeless dreams
and inspirations now
in the rear view
leif running solo
(exempt of his trusted gunners)
ready for the numbered lines
his eyes open
to the ever changing
enemy at hand
India May 2018
We perpetuate heartbreak culture,
teaching girls the man who holds her loves her despite the bruises,
or it was her fault; she looked older.
We fetishes shoulders,
prize youth from the young in return for pre-chewed gum,
swallowing tired ideals from those who still wield them like flags,
waving their patriotism on poles of bone before a throne of medieval *******.
They chant mantras with beer stained breath about how 'our' country 'bested' the rest,
but what about the brutality?
The blood split on foreign soil in return for prehistoric oil?
Our land is deemed pure so long as the violence on our hands never reaches our shores,
but the ocean is red and staining our sands.

How can you have pride in a country who's sole identity is based off having the worlds largest navy?
Congratulations. You bombed your way through countless continents, collecting cultures to gather dust on pedestals and alters
We sin on Sundays, drink till we're ****** then wave at the seven deadly's (they don't apply to us here).
We teach preschoolers nationalism before they can walk,
indoctrinate our children before they can talk.
George killed the dragon.
Hood gave to the poor.
we all jumped on the bandwagon before we realised the princess had no choice and the rich still ruled.
There was no voice in the tale for those whose wail could be ignored.

What about those without lines in the script?
Those kicked to the curb, then kicked from it?
Our pavements have no room for nonconformists,
they're tailored to for same mind, same mindless wanderer,
squandering on the lasted polyesters even though that mouth on the street hasn't eaten in over a week.
'God save the Queen' from the vermin;
the homeless have been tossed out of the trash.
Why help them when you could save your cash by turning a blind?
After all, out of sight, out of mind.
Welcome to England, we hope you like what you find
Because we’re not changing it.
CK Baker Apr 2017
willets cull the seawall
snappers rest on grill
rock ***** swoon
in shallow lagoon
long boats pass
under quiet
palm shade

plovers dance and flutter
handrail frayed and torn
graffiti spots
at lovers rock
frigate-birds fall
from the high
noon sun

thatched roof on a mud wall
fish flags settle score
anchors arch
in front line march
pillar cracks form
the rust brown scars

elegant tern and grebe
watchmen fall in cue
children play
on crested waves
whimbrels and notchers
perch above tentaciones

striped pelícanos
the bandits of the sea!
merchants grow
in steady flow
siblings jostle
in a tide cooled sand

heerman gull and boobie
durango smoke in yurt
boiler shrimp
and puffer blimp
castle buckets and scrapers
under dusk light cheroot

six pulls on a lead line
painted toes in sand
shearwater run
in rainbow sun
the portly mexicano
flaunts his tacos
and wear

rooster house for marlin
bamboo shoots and sails
broken shells
and ocean swells
rise
on the
perfect
madera bay
About the signs,
Red flags,
Or happy notes,
Scented mail-box-pine?

Did they explain in ways that you could hear,
Spell his name in your tongue for your ear,
Draw in the lines from his mirror?
Or was it fear?

The sketch artist quit long ago,
What was the crime,
What was the trouble?

Oil spill words,
Gold that chokes out the birds.
Thought we could be deep,
But only sip from the sea.
And into the bay,
I promise to only stain the sand,
Until you look away.
Antino Art Nov 2018
Raised
in this floating
world, forever
deep.
You can’t drain the ocean

Decidedly from down
south of here
You can’t un-trace the roots.

You can’t lie and say,
“This isn’t where I grew up”
You can’t deny the fruits
of what was planted two generations ago
when your grandpatents arrived from the Philippines, seeds in tow
soil for the taking
You can’t confiscate what they claimed
when they planted their flags
into the moon-white sand of a beach in Florida
on a far side of the planet
their forefarthers have never seen

You can’t say those flags weren’t there
when wind came
You can't ***** out that pride
of country,
cut off its native tongue and its acquired taste, or pass up the plate of fried lumpia and rice passed down from the kitchen of your Daddylol
feeding seven kids day in and out with tomatoes he planted,
chickens he raised, Malonggay leaves he grew
with thumbs so green they wrote in the papers about it
He was a farmer
Your grandmother, a nurse
And i was writer
And this is our story

You can’t erase the letters of your name,
your lineage written all over it
like a map
of everywhere we been
You can’t take back the words in Tagalog and Chavacano
your Lola Shirley must have sang your mother to sleep with
You can’t take their dreams

You can't just wake up one day and undo
the ripple effects their moves
created across waters 10,000 miles east of here,
the rolling waves they curled into
or the faraway shores they washed up upon
Bottled messages in hand
Our legends held within
You can’t say centuries from now that they won’t feel it
when their feet hit the sand of their own frontier
beside the waves we stayed making
a history written in deep water
for those who come after you
to sail above and beyond.
For Nali
Wayward Nov 2018
She watched as the predator made his move,
Red flags of caution flashed in her head.
She knew his feelings wouldn’t be true,
Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him as she lay in bed.

She had seen far too worse in the name of love,
But something about her predator seemed to captivate her.
She promised to be careful, that was her vow,
But every time she saw him she knew they’d end up together.

A glance turned into a chat and a chat turned into a touch.
With every passing day he stopped being a predator.
She told herself she'd be stubborn and not budge,
But she was breaking and his affection was her sedative.

It wasn't long before their hearts bridged the gap,
It wasn’t long before their lips met for a kiss.
It wasn’t long before she fell into the trap,
It wasn’t long before she couldn’t resist.

She was finally being accepted for who she really was,
And could bid her insecurities farewell.
She allowed herself to move on from the scars,
And cherished being the girl who fell.

                                                          ­    -Wayward❤
This is a chick flick in the form of a poetry. So I tried my best to portray an alternate rhyming scheme. Hope you guys enjoy it!
StoryTallinn Mar 29
Until the sun rise
I will be my own light
Until the cloud disappear
I will be my own sun

I have lost a battle
Not the war
Sorry but...
White flags do not belong in my backpack

Steps after steps
Miles after miles
This was not supposed to be a sprint
But a marathon
ryn Sep 2014
Poetry moves from within our souls,
It's emotions pouring out
Covering us in rhymes and flow,
Like rain from the clouds

Infinite letters, words and phrases
In various permutations we play
Collaboration between heart and mind
Breathed into these pieces that we lay


Touching lives with our written form
Healing with words, what's poetically true
Freedom of expression, thoughts and ideals
Crying out in ink, until our sadness is through

Similar in thoughts but meander through individual routes
We all sing the same but to different rhythm and tunes
Inscribe our innermost but to varying worthy causes
We all draw inspiration but from the same loyal moon


A different form of art, yet art none the same
It's in the eye of the beholder, so they say
Poetry is life drawn in pen, it's not an erasable game
It truly breathes life, looking forward to each new day

**We proudly fly our diverse flags
United under one banner
We revel in words of poetry
In the hopes they'd last forever
Deeply honoured by the fact that the amazing "The Girl Who Loved You" would even consider a collaboration with me! Such an experience! Thank you TGWLY for this opportunity! Awestruck!
Kevin J Taylor Sep 2015
From beneath the bottom of the bottomless abyss, below even that to the firm cliff's edge above where light shines without shadow, so the Basic Books soar above the darkness, the lostness and the nightmares of yore.

From beneath the bottom of the bottomless abyss, below even that to the firm cliff's edge above where light shines without shadow.  Further, to the waving flags at the peaks of the highest mountain tops and the voices of those who have climbed cheering and calling from above, so rise the Lectures with their Basic Books.

From beneath the bottom of the bottomless abyss, below even that to the firm cliff's edge above where light shines without shadow.  Further, to the waving flags at the peaks of Highest Mountain and the voices of those who have climbed cheering and calling from above. Still further and unbelievably beyond, where infinity begins to stretch into constellations of your own creation, where hyperbole will remain forever an understatement, so ascends The Golden Age—the words, the voice and the visions of Ron.
Another in my Scientology related series. An expression of my experiences as a Scientologist and of spirituality and understandings gained through study.
Morgan Nov 2016
your gusto

ripping through my veins

'merican flags
trump supporters
platinum beer
fireworks flaring
fires visible atop seedy peeled-paint rvs

technicolor lights amped up on edgy recreational vehicles

4000 (BRIGHT BLUE), 6000 (BRIGHT GREEN), 750XR ON-AND-ON-AND

covered in dirt and filth

eating meat

sizzled atop  
flames atop
charcoal bricks and lighter fluid

complimented by krafts brand
mac n cheese

i am apart of it
you know
your triumph burns sticky, out of my skin

guiltily i came into being

birthed inside charcoal sediments and lighter fluid

scratching, writhing, biting

at the mercy
of a hyper-paint / subtle-death encrusted
reality
Venusoul7 Aug 2014
Signals cross dissonant chills along the surface of my skin,
Prickled hair rises up under the brush of my touch.
Warm sensation waves attention as flags fly high warning shots into the sky.
My eyes wide shut abruptly in case the wind blows particulate along the curving arch of my vision,
flipped back open upon collision,
batting down waterfalls in between curtain calls as clapping hands of a broad audience pass the winning touchdown play onto poppy seed fields.
My Love runs long and deep like the river through lost canyons,
hiding unknown along the moist horizon of dew drop mornings.
...Oh, me?
I'm doing just fine fair weather,
Light as a feather, am I.

But look!...how the Earth shakes proudly the rocks upon her back.
Cast no Stones, She moans
...and you?
How do you do?
:-)
Doug Potter Sep 2016
I walk out the back door and see a doe
rise from bluegrass as two bucks
follow her into the timber,
she looks back and flags
her tail at the sound of
of my breath.
L B May 27
Memorial day
playing "hide and seek"
among the graves

Geraniums
--lugging water to them
My mother forced--
our childish "signs of the cross"
By her parents' rest
we prayed

She-- still 13 there
rubs her tears away

Stealing flags
off other's memories
to keep them as my own

Once while hiding
a discovery
of rain-worn lamb
on mossy stone
I read--

"...Our darling girl,
1923-1925"
Never any flowers
From opposite sides
of the valley,
in straight rows
marching, the
brave lads came on,
flags unfurled and
fluttering, as bugles
and drums did sound,

The cannons roared
and smoke did shroud
the grassy killing field,

The boys cut down like
summer wheat in heaps
upon the ground.

Their Uniforms of Blue or
Grey becoming all the same,
turned to crimson Red upon
that lurid blood soaked field.
In respectful acknowledgement
of all the fallen. in all the far too
many wars, no matter the color
of the uniforms they wore.
Gettysburg; The Civil War
July 1863
Chris Neilson Dec 2016
People of the world, I wish you happiness
a world of peace and nothing less
an end to conflict for warmongering's sake
leaving murdered innocents in its wake

Live and let live, we all live in one world
leave hateful, divisive flags furled
unite and accept our collective diversity
celebrate our successes and overcome adversity

Until the day we die we should never stop learning
may rewards come to those most deserving
as Christmas approaches the world keeps turning
so keep loved ones close and the home fires burning

Create joyful memories, don't chase wealth
you're wished good luck and good health
A Christmas Wish
It was all too fast and unexpected. Suddenly I was there meeting a complete stranger not knowing what to expect. She was a heart-breaker and I knew it deep down but I ignored all the red flags for all those butterflies and rainbows. She knew where my buttons were, she knew when to push them, she knew how to play a girl very well. And now I'm left feeling like a fool because she has moved on to her next prey.
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