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Brother Jimmy Apr 2015
Above the avatar, hovering
The gamer makes his moves,
Searching out cheats & shortcuts,
Leap-frogging levels his skill improves

But the integrity of the game
Says "find your own way through",
Searching each corner, gathering beans,
This is what one ought to do.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2012
Bull frog in fish pond—
Loud, one day I heard last croak,
Raccoon washing hands.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2013
Bull frog in fish pond—
Loud, one day I heard last croak,
Raccoon washing hands.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2012
Bull frog in fish pond—
Loud, one day I heard last croak,
Raccoon washing hands.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2014
Bull frog in fish pond—
Loud, one day I heard last croak,
Raccoon washing hands.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2015
Bull frog in fish pond—
Loud, one day I heard last croak,
Raccoon washing hands.
Third Eye Candy Oct 2012
a loop of spume immune to fumes of eastern tombs
a burnin‭'; ‬ a  mad flash of candied wrath
and junebug randy newman‭; ‬
what rumbles jest in vestments yet
to loom a knit or pearl two...‭ ‬a ****** crest
of ***** wrecks and rubber necks‭
to view you...‭
‬a nop of lopsy,‭ ‬
fever pitched in thicket rich begonia‭;
‬and roman roads
too golden
kicks
from hydro
in
your hedge
row.

a droop of noon in cool remove
from gypsum dim sum laude.‭
‬a drowning witch on boney creeks
of needles and salami.‭ ‬
untongued.‭ ‬a pool of fringe
rhymes with orange,‭ ‬
yes a door-hinge,‭ ‬
off it's moorings...‭ ‬
off it's Meds

death beds
for trampolines
in petrified forests...‭
a nop of lopsy,‭ ‬frogging Gatsby,‭
‬greatly famished to the Nines‭;
‬an olden toll of wish fits‭
then nothing
comes.

and that's
Life.
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2016
~~

First & Foremost

~~~
a friendly competition,
not of erudition,
more a contest of
speedy eruption

who will be first,
for quenching their thirst,
on not any but only
every,
day of their togetherness,
to declare, swear, affirm,
that their love for the other
is the greater


a race
where both win,
by crossing the
ever-moving forward,
the unfinished line

a never static series,
much more than merely being
a claimant of a trite first place,
more akin
to momentarily being
at the head of an unending
mathematical
progression,
(1 + 1 > 2)
solvable if and when
leap frogging
over each other,
extending their combined reach

when one is
first
to pronounce
this daily blessing
at the
beginning of the
new awakening twenty four,
of their joint custodied
imprimatur,
silently implied,
I love you
with a simple syrup summary



first and foremost

one, if by pillowed whisper
two, if by text

a succint messag to the other,
their love is coming fresh direct,
with an invading intensio,
deserving recognition
that a new edition will be
published
on this very day,
with the
same exact
freshly steaming coffee'd,
bannered headline,
that my love for you,
my darling sweetheart is


first and foremost

condensing with a
yellowing smiley face,
in these illiterate days of emoticons,
unacceptable,
yellow carded,
though summarizing acceptable as

F & F
or
1st/most


formats
that have been adjudged
to be
an A-Ok entry,
in the contest
without a foreseeable ending
and

that no one,
but only both,
can possess
the winning record


~~~
6:21am
Jan. 9, 2016
nyc
Cry Sebastian Dec 2009
When it rains outside,
and their choirs grow,
while the crickets sing high,
the frogs sing low.

But where do they go when they're tucked in there beds?
And what are the voices they hear in their heads?
How loud are the screams that shatter the dreams?
And the sighs and the moans of the life in between?

And who gives them warts on their necks and and their hands?
Whose legs do they eat?
Whose fate do they meet?
And which prince will they kiss just to make him their own?
And where do they go when their frogging is done?

If I were you my little friends,
I'd make this vow to make amends,
with the green blood splattered on the cold road side,
and the twitching arms trying to stay alive...

Because from the dark there are eyes that peer,
and amphibious ears that are longing to hear,
of a hardened tongue and a wicked stare,
and the crooked hands that will lay a snare,
for the one who owns that-
sorrowless,
merciless,
cruel,
in-compassionate glare:
will find his end on a gondola,
while the night creatures doom him
to Frogola.
Copyright Martin Hugo 2010- From The Law of the Rat

— The End —