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David Nelson Jul 2013
Flied Lice

she walk on hallowed glound
feet not touching down
whispeling sacled chants
to no one in palticulal
clashing down the sounds of violence
the echos of the voices linging
leaching over the liver to the folest
the encampment of wild eyes
watching the sky fol a signal
a signal of victoly
the dinnel has been plepaled
bling you chop sticks
hoolay for flied lice

Gomer LePoet ...
as reported to me by Hu Flung Dung
Little ones they run, forever young,
Avoiding the pain while strung
Upon their good times with glib tongues.

Confide, Relied, And Died.
Slip, Slide, Rip, Glide.

Never could they see my bleeding soul
That dripped the color charcoal,
Yet for me, there was no extol.

The light shone through those eyes
And what it does to me defies
All life has shown me it implies.

Confide, Relied, And Died.
Slip, Slide, Rip, Glide.

I fight the demon with these words
To ensure the avoidance of hazards
Of the knife, in hope of being lovebirds.

Sighed, Relied, And Guided.
Pried, Tried, Beside Her, I Flied.
Loveless Apr 2016
I stood on the edge. I looked down from there and I saw people walk by. They looked like some dots painted on a canvas randomly with different colours using spray with a hard brush. They looked liked moving dots or I better say that they looked like moving ants. Colourful ants. I saw trees, I saw buildings, I saw greenery everywhere. For I was standing on the edge of top most building I could find.
I looked towards the sky and I saw sun in front of me. Blazing in the last light of the day. Dying slowly. Setting over the horizon.

The birds flied in the sky coloured in shades of red, orange and yellow. And on the other side of the sky, I could make out the moon up above. The birds filed in groups and you can hear them talking to each other in their languages.

All my life, I've wanted to fly. When I was kid, I used to look at birds in the sky. I used to feel envy of me for them. Envious for these creatures of freedom got what I wanted. They got the wings. I wanted to fly besides them. I used to look at the sky and think of touching me. I wanted to touch the clouds. I wanted to fly to those heights that no one touched ever. I wanted to fly to lands I haven't seen. I wanted to sleep flying in the moonlight. I used to feel the winds blowing on my face and I day dreamt of flying in those wings.

All these years I spend being the prisoner of the lands, my passion grew. It kept on growing until now, strengthening inside my heart.
Now, my passion had reached insanity.

"I want to fly" I said with my eyes closed, feeling the air around me.

A breeze blew. I could feel it. It talked to me. Like inviting me to its embrace. Asking me to spread my wings and fly.

Today I was going to fly. Even though for just some seconds before finally ending my life unless there occur a miracle and that miracle save my life. I can't wait another second of my life without flying.

I was waiting for the final call of the winds.
And the winds finally answered. They blew so fast around me. From front, from behind, from up from down. I was inside the ball of winds.
And I fell.

I was going slow at first but I could feel the air hitting on my face. My hands and my legs opened wide. I was enjoying the sensation I was having. The flow of winds past my ears and my hair. It made me alive. I felt I've loved just now. I was happy I finally got to fly before my death. The more I filed, the more I knew I became close to death. I was flying. I was falling.

Wait.

It hadn't ended yet.

I feel something on my back. It was paining me. On the back just opposite to where heart is on left side and on same counter on the right side. It was paining a lot. Like a baby in there or is shall better day two babies in there and they were trying to come out of me. I was feeling like pain women face during delivery of their child but just a problem was that I didn't had any hole inside my body to provide guidance to them. I was being ripped apart. It was a weird feeling because I was soothened by my passion of flying. I was like feeling happiness and feeling pain at the same time.

"let your wings come out, spread them and fly, fly like you've always wanted to, fly, fly fly" the sound fly kept on echoing. These words were said by the air. The winds. I heard her clear this time.

I tried to rip myself with my body using my will. And they tried to come out with all their force. I was being tore up from my back. Like an axe was used on there. And the sun had set by then. It was dead dark. And they came out. Like a baby bird hatching from its shell. Covered a bit in blood. But they were out. They were my wings. My feathered winds, as white as snow on colour but having crimson red spots on them of my blood. They were attached to me. And I flapped them with my will. I could control them like they were my hands. I flapped them hard and hard. As hard as I could.

And I began flying.
Thank you my angel for I can't have done it without you
Nefelibata Nov 2013
Give me a clue why..
but oh I hate questioning faith..
I feel a mess inside my veins
I feel a rush in my heart
I'm love sick and it seems that I won't get cured anytime soon
Her lips is a drug that kills every breath of mine
Oh and It tickles my bones how magnetizing they can be
My brain flied away when I looked her in the eye
I want to let it go but it keeps dragging me inside
I keep craving more and I won't get enough because she fillfulls every need of mine
When we are together its like we are in our own paradise.
Yeah like a fairytale when you complete an i
Reanna Horsley Apr 2014
I once found a bird when I was younger

the bird was small and weak and abandoned by its other birds

I took it home, I did all I could

soon the bird died

why, bird, why

why die?

you could have lived
you could have flied

I told my mother

my bird is dead

it will never fly


mother still wonders why I have never touched living things again.
Autumn Rose Aug 2016
The last firebird flied
over her as she stood
on the last crumbling
mountain.
Prickley pine trees
shivering above the dew,
the first breath of the
winter in her soul was
icing through the flowers.
She fleed the Golden-emerald
city, heart broken by the
gong of war.
Sinking her nails deep into
the ground.
Sheding tears of a dragon
from the crystal eyes
of the universe.
Falling down
her porcelain face.
A work of art.
Her lips red,to seem like
cherries in the spring.
Casting a glance at the pale moon
while the wild wind was
howling to the north.
Ruler of the skies
as the morning stars sang together,
looking different today.
In the shadows of her lace fan,
the silky blossom on the
kimono dress.
Embroided with the silver thread
of moonlight, encrusted with
the diamonds of night.
The great ocean waves can't destroy
her purple throne.
Although left all alone, she will
never surrendor.
The obediance will suffocate
from her light, rising like the sun
after the dusk once again.
Because she is... the Empress
John F McCullagh Jun 2014
The shadows creep towards the mound.
The late September air is crisp.
No bunting will be hung this year,
Our team is old and in eclipse.

In the box the batter waits.
His knees are sore, his bat grown slow.
In his time he was a champion.
In his heart he knows it’s time to go.

How quickly do the seasons change
from youthful promise to aged despair.
You start out as a diamond star
And end up in a rocking chair.

Baseball is an old man’s love,
each Spring bringing hope of glory.
Yet it is not an old man’s game.
That’s quite a different story.

The stadium this day, half full,
and ready for the wrecking ball.
Mickey Charles Mantle has flied to right
and joined the legions of the Fall.
back in 1968 the Yankees said goodbye to Mickey Mantle but there was no "Farewell Tour" and few packed houses for a man ten times a champion.
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
I am He, as He is Me


As I was falling in love with you,
Your heart began to break.
Such disappointment in your eyes;
As I allowed you my heart to take.


Now forever entwined with you inside,
I stay in pain, to leave you standing alone in the light.
For life it seems, looks down on me
And laughs, not smiles; this is my purgatory.


Punishment, for being so ****** stupid!
Why the Hell, couldn’t I just go through with it?
Instead of just running away with misery…
I live a life of regrets; it is all I am left with.


For years now, I’ve wasted my time;
When all along, I had already met my Wife.
We just didn’t know it, until we touched
And now that night shall be remembered forever by each of us.


I couldn’t believe how good we could become;
But now it feels like we have always been in love.


This is for you, you beautiful lady:


I am in love with you…
Head spinning, loco, loon;
Crazy, e-love for only you.


You know of my love for Her;
It is minute compared to the love I will always feel for you.
For I knew with Her it would never work;
But with you I knew it couldn’t work,
Because back then I was a ****.


Now I hope after all this time,
You too still feel the same.
Because I see your soul in your eyes
And your eyes speak of someone who has already loved…
Only to be shown loves grave.
But you are my angel;
You simply make all my problems and my history go away.


Imagine your brain has just been born
And it can believe me with no cynicism.
I look deep into your eyes and you naturally smile,
As I speak to you the words of ‘Within’.


I flied!  I flied!  No, you falled.
She loves me!  She loves me!  No, she isn’t interested at all.


I am in love with You!!!
I love You, yes I do!!!
Yep, yep, yep.
Me and You.
All I ask for, is for you to truly believe me, when I tell you…


Goo, goo, ga, choo!


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
CB Hooper Dec 2013
Thunder and lightning and glass on the beach
I covered my ears with lace, put shoes on my feet
I walked out into the ocean with my heart in my hand
And cried for a tornado to scoop up the sand

I buried my locket in an old leather case
Hoping that time and water could erase
All of the engraving you chiseled through my veins
And that you can feel the lightening each time it rains

But no one would fear me, no hermit or fish
Came out of hiding to hear my soft wish
So I drowned my sorrows in a green bottle of sin
And cursed out the devil as he laughed at his win.

Almost vividly, could I see your face
Almost surely, did you begin to escape.

With salt and seashells, I lathered my veil
That I found in the tummy of a large ocean whale
Who ate out my innards and spit me back on the ground
So I could be rescued, if I ever was found.

But no help came the night that I died
So I finally threw out the pain and from here, I flied.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2014
By the dawn's early light,
Casual ties of warring pride,
Who wear the fit of uniforms,
Creasing down the seamy streets,
Who once in his sights were called to order,
By arrow clutching eagles, sandbagged
By the rivers heart of darkness, *****-
Trapped by bootstraps pulled, torn apart
In tiger eyeing fields that lied
In wait while choppers dived, delivering
Payloads of giant dragon flied fire
And this unction was to be their balm
And the swordless Dons were spit out
Of skull hunting windmills, Jonah
Beached to thy kingdom cong.

And over their heads cried the phantom
Jets, bat out of helmet, to the straw
Pulling hairs and these heroes, we
Abandoned without bonds nor blindfold
And lashed them to the flagging pole
With guns saluting while the sirens
Wailed, no wonder they should crack,
Our green jaded Gods, our Greek
Journeymen, due south of lotus land,
No wonder they should break on the China
Seas in that cold, ******* land.
O say can you see, that it is we,
The people, in anger and in shame
Who have no mettle, to give, but tarnish
Foisted on the brave and they
Are worn, like trinkets to dishonor.

And over the deep non-ending sank
Our heroes, betrayed by ism's, discharged
By ghosts in the machining guns,
Unspirited by a corporeal world,
Bamboozled in the muddy thickets
And dropped to the fray on ****** wings,
To foreign soil, where children are lost
In the man eating groves and they
Were thus dutifully numbered by their own
****** arms and all were made
Guilty cold in that sliver of uncivil
And polar eyed land, O say can you see,
The burning of twilights last gleaming?
And, we sutured a wall for the trigger-
Happy dead, we dammed the bleeding,
But can there be no bridges?

And further from those chilling fields
They are casting us letters, address
Unknown and mid adrift are messages
In drowning bottles by the waysides,
They are swimming to our doors,
Where, we the people, have built a wall,
Made of stone, black and shiny, it will
Not smear— and we are polishing off
Our dead, say the cold blooded
Behind that face and in front runs a red
River running down the vane, glorious sun,
Yet, this humble partition, in stories and tears,
Is deconstructing grave white heads,
Quartered in pride and darts to the ground,
That warring bird, crowned to his vacant
Lots.  O— say can you see, the turning
Of twilight's last gleaming?
Poem written in honor of all fallen soldiers and commemorating the 'Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall' in Washington, D.C.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is a national memorial in Washington, D.C. It honors U.S. service members of the U.S. armed forces who fought in the Vietnam War, service members who died in service in Vietnam/South East Asia, and those service members who were unaccounted for (Missing In Action) during the War.
Axiomighty Apr 2013
Now
What do I write now
Now...
After everything before and before everything ahead
Now...
All the places I'd rather be than bed
Now...
All the lives I'd rather have lived instead
Most people don't admit regret
But everyone has some regrets
Looking back
Now...
I regret every minute since I've left childhood
I wish I held on a little bit longer
Just a few more years of fear being the monsters in the basement
Just a few more months of saving the world from aliens and zombies on a daily basis from my backyard
Just a few more weeks of  being brave enough to confront someone threatening to stab me, without hesitation
Just a few more days of knocking on doors and running away
Just a few more hours of feeling absolutely badass for staying up all night
Just a few more minutes of being able to have a girlfriend and not talking to her at all, mostly because you're too nervous
One more moment of feeling invincible
Feeling okay
Going to bed with a smile on my face
Instead of a frown under my mask
But time, time catches up
The clock goes on, and at some point
I wook up, to a much smaller world
A depressing world
Where crying everynight became pointless
Where the pencil pressed so heavily on the paper it became pointless
As I tried to write my way back into adolescence
Where the only kid I knew that flied to never ever land was Peter Pan
Not my friend on LSD who never wanted to grow up
Who could blame him
The closest I come to back when friends were forever and crush referred the cute girl in class and not crushing up grass
The closest I come
Is now...
As I open thy boundaries of my mind to limitless displays
With this wordplay, an aresenal of dictionary words, ****, **** n' all
Now...
I may not be bliss with all I've seen
But atleast these sentences have no hierarchy
Through these lines
                        
I            am           free
Mo2a Jun 2012
Tear after tear showered down from her eyes
Wishing at that moment she could've flied
Words ran through the air attacking her
People of all ages laughed at her

Sometimes the world gets so unbearable
Trying to survive, trying to be lovable
If you try to be yourself you get rejected
You have to be another person to be accepted
Fake a smile, fake a life, live a lie
People will love you, will cherish your every smile
Being true means you're weak
Being you means you're a freak

She laid down on the ground crying
Alone in this world she was sighing
People walked past her ignoring her tears
Laughed at her, forgetting the she feels
Not because she's different she's not human
She's just a person trying to be a true one
She was living her life according to what she given
Knowing that in the end she had to give in

People are all clones of each other
They all look alike it makes you wonder
Where are all the true people gone?
Is shallowness and materialism a must now?
Her image was not accepted in the society
She had to give in and lose wieght quickly
She couldn't bear the suffery she was going through
She wanted to be happy, wanted something new

At the beggining she cut down her food
She appauled dinner, everything was good
She lost a little weight after days
But that wasnt enough because nothing had changed
She cut down her food a little bit more
Sacrifices had to be made so she'll be adored
Everyday she'd way harself on the scale
Then she'd say "it's not enough, i look like a whale"
Everyone noticed how thin she was getting
But she didnt believe, she said they were lying
The pain inside was still living
Like a tree it was still growing
Made her believe that she was fat
And no matter what she'll always be like she always had
To become thinner she considered food her enemy
She stopped eating and considered exiercise her remedy
She became thinner and thinner everyday
Hoping that the sun will shine on her someday
Days, months and years passed away
In the hospital she lies today
The doctor says there's a big chance she's dying
The little pupils in her eyes go drowning
Everything went wrong when she went further
When all she wanted was to live happier
Unfortunately, happiness didnt make it's way through
Because the tree of pain had already grew
It's covered her sight with it's shadow
She couldnt see the sunshine even if she tried to

People around her were still the same
And deep inside still lived the pain
Nothing could've changed her view of happiness
Unless she decided to erase the loneliness
Now her life is ending and for ever more
She's lost everything, she's lost it all....
Shari Forman Feb 2013
Two Men,
Traveled into the forest,
Very foolish and wise,
When they came across,
A shoe,
With many lies.
Peter asked Harry,
What they shall do,
They had found an old,
And broken shoe.
When suddenly,
The shoe came alive,
It had gown thick,
And sturdy eyes.
The men were so frightened,
Yet so eager and suspenseful,
They were willing
To know more,
About this little ripped sore.
The shoe opened its mouth,
And only said 3 words,
Fly with birds.
These men were confused,
Very clueless and dumb,
Peter had aimed for a target,
Then spit out his gum.
The shoe spoke again,
“Fly with birds”,
Yet only a fool,
Would follow that,
But they were nerds.
The men ran together; frightened,
Holding the shoe,
They knew what was happening,
They really, really knew.
The men were now lost,
So sorrow and blue,
What was that strong stench?
Could it be the shoe?
At that very moment,
The shoe flied up,
To the birds,
And when he landed with them,
He said, “Hey nerds”.
The men were fooled,
By a clever shoe,
Who knew he’s fly free,
Without any of thee.
Both nerds
Were now speechless,
Yet nowhere to be found,
But then finally decided,
To turn back around.
Abhinay Renny Jan 2016
Words wandered to express your charm
Poem could not portray your smile
Sonnet sauntered resetting the rhyme to your tune
Acrostics acquired feelings to fill out your name.
Free verse flied away fluttering it's words
Knowing it's about you. About you.
Ineffable beautiful soul.
Sam Temple Apr 2016
scurrying to the lavatory
frantically fumbling
belt unhooked
button fly, de-flied
hook thumbs against the skin
and drag the bottoms down mid-calf
feel the cool breeze on your
recently freed junk
bent at the knees ya’ll
and set gently
the plastic cap to the porcelain god
diligently protecting your **** cheeks
from the cold damp germ-laden white
doom tube….
relax, don’t push too hard
this is a natural as the rain
buzzing bees
but more like a waterfall
after a flood
debri passes
logs fall
mud and grime
crash down
down
down
reach over and begin to gather your specified amount
of toilet tissue
go ahead, don’t be scared
be sure to cover your hand skin
we don’t want a poo finger
then
wipe!
wipe, again
wipe until there’s nothing left to wipe
we all want a clean bootyhole
don’t we?
grab up those trousers
or elegant gown
and reattach or fasten
the button, zipper, or belt
straighten your gear in the mirror
and wash
wash
wash
we don’t want a poo finger
do we?
poetry month prompt 19
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2014
By the dawn's early light,
Casual ties of warring pride,
Who wear the fit of uniforms,
Creasing down the seamy streets,
Who once in his sights were called to order,
By arrow clutching eagles, sandbagged
By the rivers heart of darkness, *****-
Trapped by bootstraps pulled, torn apart
In tiger eyeing fields that lied
In wait while choppers dived, delivering
Payloads of giant dragon flied fire
And this unction was to be their balm
And the swordless Dons were spit out
Of skull hunting windmills, Jonah
Beached to thy kingdom cong.

And over their heads cried the phantom
Jets, bat out of helmet, to the straw
Pulling hairs and these heroes, we
Abandoned without bonds nor blindfold
And lashed them to the flagging pole
With guns saluting while the sirens
Wailed, no wonder they should crack,
Our green jaded Gods, our Greek
Journeymen, due south of lotus land,
No wonder they should break on the China
Seas in that cold, ******* land.
O say can you see, that it is we,
The people, in anger and in shame
Who have no mettle, to give, but tarnish
Foisted on the brave and they
Are worn, like trinkets to dishonor.

And over the deep non-ending sank
Our heroes, betrayed by ism's, discharged
By ghosts in the machining guns,
Unspirited by a corporeal world,
Bamboozled in the muddy thickets
And dropped to the fray on ****** wings,
To foreign soil, where children are lost
In the man eating groves and they
Were thus dutifully numbered by their own
****** arms and all were made
Guilty cold in that sliver of uncivil
And polar eyed land, O say can you see,
The burning of twilights last gleaming?
And, we sutured a wall for the trigger-
Happy dead, we dammed the bleeding,
But can there be no bridges?

And further from those chilling fields
They are casting us letters, address
Unknown and mid adrift are messages
In drowning bottles by the waysides,
They are swimming to our doors,
Where, we the people, have built a wall,
Made of stone, black and shiny, it will
Not smear— and we are polishing off
Our dead, say the cold blooded
Behind that face and in front runs a red
River running down the vane, glorious sun,
Yet, this humble partition, in stories and tears,
Is deconstructing grave white heads,
Quartered in pride and darts to the ground,
That warring bird, crowned to his vacant
Lots.  O— say can you see, the turning
Of twilight's last gleaming?
Poem written in honor of all fallen soldiers and commemorating the 'Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall' in Washington, D.C.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is a national memorial in Washington, D.C. It honors U.S. service members of the U.S. armed forces who fought in the Vietnam War, service members who died in service in Vietnam/South East Asia, and those service members who were unaccounted for (Missing In Action) during the War.
The spider is the name

OF male and female

The spiders have forty

Thousands of mainly

Count kind but only

One hundred of several

Kind can be divided

The main act is the female

Who responsible of house

Building and take care

The holy Quran said

In the main of the Surratt

Spider that the weakest

House at the world

Is the spider's house

The explanation of Quran

Said it is the strings

As it built its house

At entrance of the cave

The enemies of prophet said

The prophet and his friend must not

Enter at that empty cave

As the strings of the spider

Must be cut and flied at air

The modern scientists discovered

By taking the genes if those

Weaken strings at eyes

They put them at the *******

Of Nigeria lands' goats

They got strong protect chests

Of shot used by persons

Who are exposed to dangerous

The Islamic explanation got false

And they said your Qur'an has not true

The Muslims still weak

Their science still  stick

By their bad old things

There is a social scientist

Who looked at the south east

Of Asian for spider's knowledge

He reached that the edge

Of knowing "how they could

Build their house at wide street"

He found at the night

When the traffic be light

At the high speed way

It can ascended at a way

From the light column in hurry

Tying its string strongly

At the height of column

And crossing the way

Making its string

By his mouse only

And two hand also

Spinning its long string

Till it reaches the other column

It  ascended it speedy

Still spinning the string

And tying it at the height

Tension and strong

It crossing at that hanging

That weak string

Making another string

Till it making its home

She got a sticky thing

At some parts and corners

When the prey was in

It looked by its six or eight eyes

It has also eight legs

The miracle of Quran

Is not only at the names of the Surats

But also the verses in surats

There are three names of insects

Bees ,ants and spider

Who till Mohammad that

The bees live at groups

The ants do the same things

But the spider does the other

It lives only by its matter

The spider has eight legs

The male gets a big insect

And gave it to its lover as a present

When she begins to eat

He begins its love

When he ends

He must run

Fastest ,fastest

Or he will be the  love

The love's martyr

As she turns to injects him

Till he lost its world

Not by love

But by the drugged

She begins to ****

***** every useful thing

Of his victim body

The true rule appeared

The spider inner house

Is the weakest

When she puts her eggs

She take care of them

Let those eggs

Go to the victim

When it puts at the web

The strings vibrates

The spider looks

The victim got stuck

It tried to escape

It could do nothing

She lost its force

The spider looks

When she sees it big

She releases

To avoid the ****** fight

When she sees small at bright

She ran at speed

When she gets stick

She gets something

To avoid that matter

And runs as she could

She injects

Then she wraps  

After that she eats

She takes care of hers

Her eggs of course

Till the day of gotten

Small spiders of eggs

Every one chased the other

Not as a game

But as a hunter

Every one eat the other

Every one **** the other

The big crime

Was gotten of the mother

She chased her child

One by one to hunt

All of them gets the matter

Of the anger and hate

spider
"The spider of animals vulnerable, home of the weaker houses, what increased by taking only vulnerable, as well as those who take without parents, poor helpless in all respects, and when they took the Patriarchs without getting strong and their help, on increasing vulnerable to weakness, and here to weak.


They trusted in them in many of their interests, and  let it at them, and they abandoned them, that those will out, they let them down, did not get them useless, nor give them  of their aid less useful thing.


If they knew the truth of science, their experience and the state of got them as Gods not helping them , but they let them down, but they turn away the Lord Almighty Merciful, who if he took up slave and trust in Him, suffice pantry religious and worldly, and increased strength to strength, in his heart and in his body and case work. "

"Verses 41_43" of  Surat the spider" no 29 of holy Quran
Shari Forman Mar 2013
Two Men,
Traveled into the forest,
Very foolish and wise,
When they came across,
A shoe,
With many lies.
Peter asked Harry,
What they shall do,
They had found an old,
And broken shoe.
When suddenly,
The shoe came alive,
It had gown thick,
And sturdy eyes.
The men were so frightened,
Yet so eager and suspenseful,
They were willing
To know more,
About this little ripped sore.
The shoe opened its mouth,
And only said 3 words,
Fly with birds.
These men were confused,
Very clueless and dumb,
Peter had aimed for a target,
Then spit out his gum.
The shoe spoke again,
“Fly with birds”,
Yet only a fool,
Would follow that,
But they were nerds.
The men ran together; frightened,
Holding the shoe,
They knew what was happening,
They really, really knew.
The men were now lost,
So sorrow and blue,
What was that strong stench?
Could it be the shoe?
At that very moment,
The shoe flied up,
To the birds,
And when he landed with them,
He said, “Hey nerds”.
The men were fooled,
By a clever shoe,
Who knew he’s fly free,
Without any of thee.
Both nerds
Were now speechless,
Yet nowhere to be found,
But then finally decided,
To turn back around.
Rod Watson Dec 2015
The Great Depression
Days where countries felt like secession
The deadly dust bowl swept crops away
The stock market crashed
Everyone had to pay

The Great Depression
A lot of people died
From the dust that flew by
As the tumbleweeds flied

The Great Depression
The money went away
Food was rationed
But not every day

Most of the food
Was sent away
For the soldiers
That risk their lives everyday
Jonathan Mar 2014
When we first met
time flied,
We loved each other
we lied,
We argued
tongue tied,
We said goodbye
we tried.
aldo kraas Oct 2021
Superman my hero
Is just like my friend
It was just what I want him to be
Superman my hero
Is giving us hope
He is keeping us free
God's nation
Is in chaos
But there is one man that
Can save us all
Superman my Hero
He flied many times a day in the sky
He touches heaven
Just like the birds do
Superman my hero
I am so proud of him
Superman my hero
I pray for you every day
You have a job, I have one too
I will tell you what gets me through
Strength, love, and peace
I pray for peace where I am going to be
For you and me
Kids at school
Sending Postcards to those who died overseas in the war
Superman my hero
Keeping busy is what I need to do
And keeping busy these days seems to be the tool
I want to make the hour go fast
So I have to keep myself busy
Superman my hero
Doesn't live in fear
But I do
Superman my hero
Makes sacrifices also
Like I do
Superman my hero
Is landing from the sky right now
He had a perfect landing
Superman my hero
I light a candle for you
May God always bless you
Superman my hero
To the world you gave so much love
Superman my hero
You are an hero
Superman my hero
What are we going to do when our time is up here on earth?
Superman my hero
Your spirit will always be alive in me
You have given your spirit to me and everybody else here on earth
Superman my hero
I am dreaming every night
With you
I know someday my dreams may come true
That's why we are fighting for and doing what we do to save our world
Superman my hero
I hope that others will learn to love you and respect you like I do
Superman I hope others
Will respect our believes and not judge us by what we do
Or by what we haven't done yesterday, today, or tomorrow
Superman my hero
Stands in a shiny sea
Superman my hero
Wants a world were he dominates
And he knows that our land will liberate
A shiny city on top of the hill
Superman my hero
Fighting evil and saving people also
Superman my hero
Has a free will
To help those in need
Superman my hero
It is time to remember what freedom means
It is time to choose freedom
And embrace the future
It is time to choose life
It is time to look after those in need
Because charity begins at home
Superman my hero
I know that together we will get through tough times
Sometimes we just need some courage
Sometimes we need a little prayer
Sometimes we need a helping hand so we can finish our daily tasks
Superman my hero
Let the light shine in your heart, my heart, and all the people here on Earth
Superman my hero
It is a lucky day
Because you are of flying again like a bird in the sky
Superman my hero
Miracles we will see one day
Superman my hero
Black outs
All the town is out of lights left in the dark
Traffic lights are not working
We can't cook our food
We have to eat can food for a few days
We have to survive some how
Some how we will get through this ordeal
And you are flying high above in the sky
The only thing that is shining at night is the moon
Superman my hero
I know that nobody will live forever
Superman my hero
You were meant to fly
Superman my hero
I sometimes feel powerless
Superman my hero
Once I need to get out
And put my foot out of my door
I know that fresh air is good for me and everybody else
I have dreams and desires
Superman my hero
Once a while I just need to get away from the computer
My desk and my computer my favorite hide away
Superman my hero
Will take me to a place that I never been before
Superman I believe that we were meant to be friends
Superman my hero
I must speak now or forever hold my peace
Superman my hero
Snow, wind, and rain won't bother superman my hero
Because he always dress up for the kind of weather
He is smart and wise
Superman won't melt but he might freeze in the winter
Because the days are much colder than you ever imagine
Superman my hero
Mysterious Aries Sep 2015
Now at ICU, I've followed my body
I did won battling my lunacy
But the prize was so high
My poor body gave up, my soul flied

My  friend, my brother, my mother and my Jane
Weeping so much but still hoping, wishing and praying
Fight my friend, stay my son, wake up my love
Their emotions are so true, no one will ever doubt

What am I doing? I must do something
Now that I know that life still has a lot of meaning
So I shifted and laid my soul in my body
They are the reason why I must not give up that easy

I try to move my hand, did they see that?
Try to smile, hopefully someone look at
I must force some nerves, to truly wake up
Praying hard that I can blink my eyes and finally be back

"Oh God!" they've all shouted "doc, doc he is crying"
I counted one, two.... they will be surprised I know
Three... I'm so hopeful, and force my body to sit up
"I'm so sorry we've lost him" said the doctor as I look at my body, now a smiling crying corpse...


written: September 8, 2014 @ 4:55 pm

Mysterious Aries
My Schizophrenia Poetry Story #16
You will fully understand this stuff if you read all my poetry story about Schizophrenia from the start... Thank You...
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
By the dawn's early light,
Casual ties of warring pride,
Who wear the fit of uniforms,
Creasing down the seamy streets,
Who once in his sights were called to order,
By arrow clutching eagles, sandbagged
By the rivers heart of darkness, *****-
Trapped by bootstraps pulled, torn apart
In tiger eyeing fields that lied
In wait while choppers dived, delivering
Payloads of giant dragon flied fire
And this unction was to be their balm
And the swordless Dons were spit out
Of skull hunting windmills, Jonah
Beached to thy kingdom cong.

And over their heads cried the phantom
Jets, bat out of helmet, to the straw
Pulling hairs and these heroes, we
Abandoned without bonds nor blindfold
And lashed them to the flagging pole
With guns saluting while the sirens
Wailed, no wonder they should crack,
Our green jaded Gods, our Greek
Journeymen, due south of lotus land,
No wonder they should break on the China
Seas in that cold, ******* land.
O say can you see, that it is we,
The people, in anger and in shame
Who have no mettle, to give, but tarnish
Foisted on the brave and they
Are worn, like trinkets to dishonor.

And over the deep non-ending sank
Our heroes, betrayed by ism's, discharged
By ghosts in the machining guns,
Unspirited by a corporeal world,
Bamboozled in the muddy thickets
And dropped to the fray on ****** wings,
To foreign soil, where children are lost
In the man eating groves and they
Were thus dutifully numbered by their own
****** arms and all were made
Guilty cold in that sliver of uncivil
And polar eyed land, O say can you see,
The burning of twilights last gleaming?
And, we sutured a wall for the trigger-
Happy dead, we dammed the bleeding,
But can there be no bridges?

And further from those chilling fields
They are casting us letters, address
Unknown and mid adrift are messages
In drowning bottles by the waysides,
They are swimming to our doors,
Where, we the people, have built a wall,
Made of stone, black and shiny, it will
Not smear— and we are polishing off
Our dead, say the cold blooded
Behind that face and in front runs a red
River running down the vane, glorious sun,
Yet, this humble partition, in stories and tears,
Is deconstructing grave white heads,
Quartered in pride and darts to the ground,
That warring bird, crowned to his vacant
Lots.  O— say can you see, the turning
Of twilight's last gleaming?
Poem written in honor of all fallen soldiers and commemorating the 'Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall' in Washington, D.C.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is a national memorial in Washington, D.C. It honors U.S. service members of the U.S. armed forces who fought in the Vietnam War, service members who died in service in Vietnam/South East Asia, and those service members who were unaccounted for (Missing In Action) during the War.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2013
By the dawn's early light,
Casual ties of warring pride,
Who wear the fit of uniforms,
Creasing down the seamy streets,
Who once in his sights were called to order,
By arrow clutching eagles, sandbagged
By the rivers heart of darkness, *****-
Trapped by bootstraps pulled, torn apart
In tiger eyeing fields that lied
In wait while choppers dived, delivering
Payloads of giant dragon flied fire
And this unction was to be their balm
And the swordless Dons were spit out
Of skull hunting windmills, Jonah
Beached to thy kingdom cong.

And over their heads cried the phantom
Jets, bat out of helmet, to the straw
Pulling hairs and these heroes, we
Abandoned without bonds nor blindfold
And lashed them to the flagging pole
With guns saluting while the sirens
Wailed, no wonder they should crack,
Our green jaded Gods, our Greek
Journeymen, due south of lotus land,
No wonder they should break on the China
Seas in that cold, ******* land.
O say can you see, that it is we,
The people, in anger and in shame
Who have no mettle, to give, but tarnish
Foisted on the brave and they
Are worn, like trinkets to dishonor.

And over the deep non-ending sank
Our heroes, betrayed by ism's, discharged
By ghosts in the machining guns,
Unspirited by a corporeal world,
Bamboozled in the muddy thickets
And dropped to the fray on ****** wings,
To foreign soil, where children are lost
In the man eating groves and they
Were thus dutifully numbered by their own
****** arms and all were made
Guilty cold in that sliver of uncivil
And polar eyed land, O say can you see,
The burning of twilights last gleaming?
And, we sutured a wall for the trigger-
Happy dead, we dammed the bleeding,
But can there be no bridges?

And further from those chilling fields
They are casting us letters, address
Unknown and mid adrift are messages
In drowning bottles by the waysides,
They are swimming to our doors,
Where, we the people, have built a wall,
Made of stone, black and shiny, it will
Not smear— and we are polishing off
Our dead, say the cold blooded
Behind that face and in front runs a red
River running down the vane, glorious sun,
Yet, this humble partition, in stories and tears,
Is deconstructing grave white heads,
Quartered in pride and darts to the ground,
That warring bird, crowned to his vacant
Lots.  O— say can you see, the turning
Of twilight's last gleaming?
Poem written in honor of all fallen soldiers and commemorating the 'Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall' in Washington, D.C.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is a national memorial in Washington, D.C. It honors U.S. service members of the U.S. armed forces who fought in the Vietnam War, service members who died in service in Vietnam/South East Asia, and those service members who were unaccounted for (Missing In Action) during the War.
Miranda Renea Sep 2013
I caught luck in my left hand,
And held a fire in my heart.

It's a starless night,
And I'm a window away,
This glass has never felt so thick.

Your stare traverses galaxies,
But it can't touch vernacular,
Only ensure mysteries.

Strangely endearing,
I let luck free.
Wished on another star,
Fire flied free.
the rain is coming as a torture that aqueda has plans for cronus




you see last night, cronus and athena, put the terrorists in the sun

and in the course of the day, osama brought on heavy rain to canberra at

2.45 pm and this is sort of a way, of keeping cronus in for a while

so, he can’t be a young dude, of cool kid to the young

at present the wind and rain is coming, it sounds nice

a pretty look, but just after cronus put the terrorists in the sun

well, the rain is the answer, to hide the goings on, of what

is really hanging, ya see each terrorist, is being set free by osama

but dad, wanted me, to enjoy life, so under crocus’s spirit, he

hid the sun, from canberra, as it was a chance, to fight to keep

the terrorists strapped down in the sun, ya see the reason why

i say this, the terrorists are trying to get me to tie myself up

and keep cronus from telling the world, and force cronus

to be a little woosey to a tease, while dad fights off these

terrorists, just to make sure, they stay, dad used all of

his science stuff he knew, to force his son cronus to be

safe, as his spirit, can be unleashed to help barry allan

become the new helper of athena and cronus, to help

buddha mend every blade of grass, ya see, the rain

was also caused, by a big tidal wave, in jupiter, where

sam kinison and paul berenyi are taking surfing lessons, and at

present if you open up your third eye, your imagination

you can see this big surfing tournament on jupiter

ya see at present the leader is olga chick, and leo

had as just said he was special agent as his previous life

was known as jupiter’s special agent surfer, while they were

on earth talking about the baby twins

and olga chick has just been announced the winner

but athena and dad under crocus’s power, are battling a hard

thunder, which the terrorists are causing  thunder over canberra at 3 pm

this is going to be a tough journey, but we need to calm these

terrorists, ya see, paul berenyi flied off saying, we need to show olga how to have a good time

leo is a little cool kid, and sam kinison fled off to help

my dad battle the terrorists, trying to escape the sun

but athena, crocus’s power through dad and sam kinison and buddha

are keeping these terrorists down, you see one terrorist is the

witch doctor who kidnapped and killed 8 year old patrick dunbar

my life before greame thorne, and i am suffering, trying to rid this evil ghost

now paul is trying to use the cosmic energy that athena showed him

to keep these dead terrorists, starpped down, burning there hooligan in the sun

the rain has stopped, but the terrorists are still trying to cause more thundery rain

for cronus in CANBERRA, make the canberra people suffer the terrorists say

yeah they are off the earth, but they can cause petty little stupid bogus crimes

which could stop people thinking that the terrorists are really bad

don’t get ****** in, HELP ME keep these terrorists strapped to the sun

make the thunder not ruin

start to recycle, start to look after the earth, enjoy life

but be aware, this isn’t the end, i was kidnapped by ted bundy after ted bundy died

and so was brendan from next door, yeah

the terrorists are worst now, keep them strapped down

bring my tying myself up up to jupiter, so i can be free
wordvango Sep 2017
That day, the sun as bright as yellow-white,
the day Robinhood met Cinderella
on the fairgrounds at Montezuma
and Cervantes  white steed was neighing
tied to the fence
and both them,
)Robin and Cindy(
at the same time
went over to try and calm him
and Cervantes tilted ( a bit high  drunk stupored )
he was. Spilt the horse's water
all over both of them.
Cinderella's white shirt
became transparent.
Nubs soft curves
all apparent.
Robin stood,
impressed by the display before him.
Then, Maid Marion showed up,
grabbed Robin by the scruff of his neck.
And Cervantes saw Don Quixote
approaching.
Quickly he threw
the horses blanket
over Cinderella's beauty.
He whispered in her ear,
I know this abandoned windmill
near, we might
have a tilt or two,
Cinderella lost a shoe running
to the horse to mount
with Cervantes
whipping reins and dust flied
as they disappeared
to never ever be
seen again.
Juju Juju Nov 2014
He held his gun,
Prepared to snipe,

An evil laugh was given from distance,
And through the air it disappeared,

He pushed the grip,
The bullet flied,

And it landed inside the heart,
Of what was once called,
"Brother"...
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2013
By the dawn's early light,
Casual ties of warring pride,
Who wear the fit of uniforms,
Creasing down the seamy streets,
Who once in his sights were called to order,
By arrow clutching eagles, sandbagged
By the rivers heart of darkness, *****-
Trapped by bootstraps pulled, torn apart
In tiger eyeing fields that lied
In wait while choppers dived, delivering
Payloads of giant dragon flied fire
And this unction was to be their balm
And the swordless Dons were spit out
Of skull hunting windmills, Jonah
Beached to thy kingdom cong.

And over their heads cried the phantom
Jets, bat out of helmet, to the straw
Pulling hairs and these heroes, we
Abandoned without bonds nor blindfold
And lashed them to the flagging pole
With guns saluting while the sirens
Wailed, no wonder they should crack,
Our green jaded Gods, our Greek
Journeymen, due south of lotus land,
No wonder they should break on the China
Seas in that cold, ******* land.
O say can you see, that it is we,
The people, in anger and in shame
Who have no mettle, to give, but tarnish
Foisted on the brave and they
Are worn, like trinkets to dishonor.

And over the deep non-ending sank
Our heroes, betrayed by ism's, discharged
By ghosts in the machining guns,
Unspirited by a corporeal world,
Bamboozled in the muddy thickets
And dropped to the fray on ****** wings,
To foreign soil, where children are lost
In the man eating groves and they
Were thus dutifully numbered by their own
****** arms and all were made
Guilty cold in that sliver of uncivil
And polar eyed land, O say can you see,
The burning of twilights last gleaming?
And, we sutured a wall for the trigger-
Happy dead, we dammed the bleeding,
But can there be no bridges?

And further from those chilling fields
They are casting us letters, address
Unknown and mid adrift are messages
In drowning bottles by the waysides,
They are swimming to our doors,
Where, we the people, have built a wall,
Made of stone, black and shiny, it will
Not smear— and we are polishing off
Our dead, say the cold blooded
Behind that face and in front runs a red
River running down the vane, glorious sun,
Yet, this humble partition, in stories and tears,
Is deconstructing grave white heads,
Quartered in pride and darts to the ground,
That warring bird, crowned to his vacant
Lots.  O— say can you see, the turning
Of twilight's last gleaming?
Poem written in honor of all fallen soldiers and commemorating the 'Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall' in Washington, D.C.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is a national memorial in Washington, D.C. It honors U.S. service members of the U.S. armed forces who fought in the Vietnam War, service members who died in service in Vietnam/South East Asia, and those service members who were unaccounted for (Missing In Action) during the War.
Nefelibata Jan 2014
6 minutes until the new year
Me and a sliver balloon waiting for my wish to fly up
Wearing my white fury hat while the yard cats are looking at me
My mint thin cigarette and my yellow lighter in my pocket
Waiting for me to smoke some nicotine in my lungs
Four minutes left..
The sky is full of clouds and the balloon is shivering to fly up
Optimistic shall I be?
And now its a new year
The balloon flied to the sky..
One wish I asked
to be myself and to be carefree
Then a happy smile colored my face
John F McCullagh Feb 2012
The man in the casket
was beloved in this town.
To us kids he’d been “Doc”-
Its hard believing  he’s gone.

A long time ago,
on a field far away,
He had been a young Giant
waiting his chance to play.

“Doc” Graham had played baseball
in many minor league parks,
in an age before lights,
in an age before darks.

An elegant fielder
with a strong rifle arm
“Doc” had one “cup of coffee”
and then he was gone.

He played in right field
on a warm Brooklyn day
you could look it up
the old professor would say,.

He played in the field
but was denied an at bat.
He was waiting on deck
when Claude Elliott flied out.

Though quick as the moonlight
through shadowy leaves,
“Doc” never again played
in the National League.

He hit  the books instead
and became a physician
In our small town of Chisholm,
he found a position.

A lifetime of love
yields a lifetime of care:
He tended our needs
and shared in our prayers

No trace of self-pity-
having missed that at bat.
Being “Doc” to us all
meant far more to him  than that.

Now Moonlight is elusive
never grasped in your hands.
But on nights short of heroes
I remember this man.
Archibald wright Graham was a man who had a longtime career as a country doctor in Minnesota. Before he  was Doc Graham, he had been Archie "Moonlight" Graham. A career minor league baseball player who played in only one major league game ( June 29, 1905). He was made famous by the book "Shoeless Joe" by Ray Kinsella and in the subsequent movie "Field of Dreams" as being one of those few major league players without an official time at bat. Prior to 1938 major league parks had no lights for night games and  prior to Jackie Robinson, no African American players.
Anaid Jul 2014
Missing the nothing of the world
As I think there was still something wrong
Even though you walked away ,I waited for you day by day
But you never came again as the sun was just insane
In a world with just us two ;the only option is of being true .
But we’re not.
No us two, no you and I ,no together ,..no forever .

Yes ,you was. Yes I am.

I may dreamed of you .
You may dreamed of me .
,but there’s no worst of being you and me .

You taught  me a lesson  and that was the last thing we could make together .

We couldn't stay forever as you walked in to the heaven
You leaved me alone under the red sky that I  once owned being by your side .
You flied away and let me lay down behind the earth .
You looked back and realize all  the lies of the butterflies you have told .
I have written this while looking at the red sky and being with all the people but alone in the same time .
Priya Patel Apr 2011
My tale begins in a magnificent place
Where legends are created and given a face
About a little black fish from a far away land
Searching for light in a living space

So mighty the fish to give a hand
To rescue the seas from a darkness unplanned
The rainbow of colors that was once plain to see
replaced with dark shadows floating above sand

The fish named Shazhad was prince of the sea
It was his job to keep bright for all eternity
The living seas by dawn or by night
The absence of light is a mystery

He swam through the dark, such was his plight
Shahzad flied through the water like a bird in flight
Up ahead, something was gleaming in the sand
Finally, the little black fish found his flashlight
Decade of decades thru’
Crawled, walked and ran amuck
Flied, cruised, dived n’ delved
Stumbled, fumbled and tumbled
Blithe, he, the centenarian!

Transited and trespassed
All seasonal fare and furor
Of quirks, quacks and quakes,
Of chaos, canards and concords
Of fun, frolic and foolish

Neither did his debilitating diabetes got him scared
Nor hyperbolic hypertension placed him scourged
Death dared not break his breath; he is fit to the core
But the day is not too far for him to rest his oar

Fantastic phantasmagorias reeling
Through the clumsy chip of his mind
Century past was his prolonged sanctuary,  
Reminisced he in awe, what he saw;
From rude n’ rustic paths to roadways,
From wading to waterways and skyways
Blowing cannons turning into zooming rockets
Swords and knifes on to guns n’ pistols
Heels of horses over to powered wheels

Wars broke into battles and battles unto wars, of course,
Anarchy of monarchy tamed and tuned to democracy  
Candled kingdoms switched over to electrified nations
Electronic wizards brought life easy, cozy, busy and rosy  
All was well that went but not so well as it wanted

The glitter of stars vanished in horizon
In the gutter of urban agglomeration
Greenhouse gases displaced the granary of greenery
None bothered of the smothered mother earth
Human values sunk in exchange of currency
Poor like him left their prayers unanswered since
“Does it carry any sense for me to hit century” he surmised
Sidra Amin Apr 2014
She walks on the turfs in the lonely night,
with all her sorrows her soul ignites,
the cold breeze tickles her face,
She sees their silhouette on moon's full phase,
Oh how enchanting it was, when he proposed,
His grin was something she'd die for,
But thy love is not as important,
as to him is his life,
She never had listened,
When her intuition cried,
The night is different she realized,
Unlike other days, this time had flied,
Hours pass, clouds reign over,
covers the sky, the thunder hollers,
She discerns something like a dewdrop on her face,
Unsure she is, maybe its the tears rolling down due to pain,
and then there are more drops, the sky pours rain,
the cold breeze, the raindrops, a perfect twain,
the thunder and wind is like a symphony,
it feels like mother nature is singing a lullaby,
She senses something when she sips the wine,
She could be seen dancing to the rhyme,
she sways to her silence, her madness,
to her pain and to her loneliness,
Atlast herself had she descry,
The only night that didn't make her cry.

— The End —