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"jaggered" poems
The city plays cat and mouse and pefects the fear. Jaggered lights dazzle the victim and nautical terms are resurrected as shanking. Hospitals in an ode to Johannesburg's ingenuity repair the injurious knife wounds caused not by weekend lighter fuel but a postcode lottery undone only by the postman.
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
Nighty knife gales
Truth is, there is nothing poetic about sadness, anger or numbness. It's your eyes looking at the faceless, and artificial sheen of objects around you. It is the sugar in cold coffee and tea settling at the bottom, as your thoughts flit in and out of your eye-lashes. Hoping you can still be tied at the very jaggered edges of this universe. & yet, we write anyway. For the truth we hide, hide and never seek will be black, navy, blue on those blank pages.
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Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
Metaphorical Metaphors
To the absolute love of my life You are the epitome of perfection and embody it in everything that you are and everything thar you do. It's always a bootiful day with you around. You are the sun to my rise; The heart to my beat. I dont know what id do without you Your loving nature The purity of your smile and The kindness of your heart You are what makes me, me And why i can truly say I'm the luckiest guy in the world to be your one and only The path that lay behind us May be jaggered and bumpy with uncertain corners and paths But the path that lies before us Is one in which we're paving everyday I want to continue this journey with you The rest of my life With you by my side Forever and after My one true love
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Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 5:12 AM UTC
Sweet Valentine
I awoke with a shudder Was that the sound of thunder? I listened, and heard a faint smash Then it was followed by a loud crash I knew, through the down stairs window it came Was this a burgalar coming, all the same? I got out of bed with a frown And adorned my blue dressing gown From under my bed, just near the mat I reached, and found my cricket bat I would have to go and brave this rogue instead And then I would bash him on the head Out of my bedroom I went, at a quiet pace Then I tip toed slowly down my stair case Praying I was not going to my doom I reached for the door of my living room Flung it open, and switched on the light There was no way to prepare me for this sight On my carpet there appeared to be a small little imp He was swearing because he had a limp The little thing had hurt himself, when he had fell He hopped on one leg, and threatened me with Hell Told me he was going to curse me with magic But this injured little imp looked so tragic He followed, hobbling, after me into the kitchen Cursing that his leg was now itching He shouted at me, ranting and raving I asked if he wanted a cup of tea, so he started waving He showed me his jaggered teeth in a funny smile I handed him his cup of tea, he blew on it for a while This poor little thing looked so very sad As an evil imp, he really was bad He had wanted to steal my teeth and then run away Because that was one of those games that imps play So I made him a splint, for his injured leg I had made it out of a wooden peg I picked him up and he started to glow And all of a sudden, he fixed my broken window I then made him some buttered toast Because he said he liked eating that the most He was not such a bad little imp in the end He promised to visit again, I was his best friend
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Jun 2, 2010
Jun 2, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
The Imp
I awoke with a shudder Was that the sound of thunder? I listened, and heard a faint smash Then it was followed by a loud crash I knew, through the down stairs window it came Was this a burgalar coming, all the same? I got out of bed with a frown And adorned my blue dressing gown From under my bed, just near the mat I reached, and found my cricket bat I would have to go and brave this rogue instead And then I would bash him on the head Out of my bedroom I went, at a quiet pace Then I tip toed slowly down my stair case Praying I was not going to my doom I reached for the door of my living room Flung it open, and switched on the light There was no way to prepare me for this sight On my carpet there appeared to be a small little imp He was swearing because he had a limp The little thing had hurt himself, when he had fell He hopped on one leg, and threatened me with Hell Told me he was going to curse me with magic But this injured little imp looked so tragic He followed, hobbling, after me into the kitchen Cursing that his leg was now itching He shouted at me, ranting and raving I asked if he wanted a cup of tea, so he started waving He showed me his jaggered teeth in a funny smile I handed him his cup of tea, he blew on it for a while This poor little thing looked so very sad As an evil imp, he really was bad He had wanted to steal my teeth and then run away Because that was one of those games that imps play So I made him a splint, for his injured leg I had made it out of a wooden peg I picked him up and he started to glow And all of a sudden, he fixed my broken window I then made him some buttered toast Because he said he liked eating that the most He was not such a bad little imp in the end He promised to visit again, I was his best friend
Continue reading...
42
Facing an eternity without you dispairingly weeping at every moment alone heart sharded a thousand painful jaggered pieces forever loving you to the bone. Frozen in a collage of ghastly images your final suffering my head disallows me to forget I feel so guilty for the choices i made So much love entwined with so many regrets. I Hold on tightly to the final remnants of you as heavily hearted i try to climb this thorny hill the memory of you eternally engraved in me living with an agonizing hole which will never fill .
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Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 4:03 PM UTC
Alone Without You
Cracked images Stained glass Each piece arranged In an interlacing jaggered masterpiece Tears fall Tracing paths Highlighting the intricate symbols Liquid crystals in the dying light Sparkling pearls upon living glass Dexterous additions To the visual symphony. The storm grows The heavens pour Colours flash amongst the greys It tastes like salt.
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 4:09 AM UTC
Empty eyes
Little lady river My little whippoorwill She fills our pails with plenty She welcomes my paradise on in Walk with me my darlin I will be the one to catch you To keep you from your  jaggered fall Dance with me frail daffodil I will let the buttermilk melt I will crush all honey suckle To let your laughing crackle rush on through Spin with me a little And you'll be dizzy for a little while Until those watchful eyes begin their focus On the importance they've been searching On the truth they've found missing No forgets,  yet no regrets There's only the here There's only you Right now
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Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 5:41 AM UTC
Now
The stave, white and sharp its jaggered edge prompts sanctuary, a curious light is thrown it deceives the stillness.
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 6:56 PM UTC
The Stave
As i sit here with a shattered heart I think of broken promises You tore me apart Follow your heart to find what you lose But if it is in so many peices Which one do you chose Like glass i am broken never to be fixed With words left unspoken I fell for all your tricks A knife in my back and a bullet in my heart You twisted the jaggered blade Should have seen it from the start You played me for a fool as if it were a game I cant help but ask myself Do you feel no shame That you destroyed me Shattered me to the bone I should have known you would leave I will die forever alone
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Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
Why did you leave
Each born a mass of jaggered shards, soon scattered like so many cards, as through the years each piece is turned, and joined or to the void returned, Each fragment over time evolves, the shape within each mind resolves, as time wears on the lines are crossed, and sections found soon can be lost, Each aims to end this life intact, alas we seldom keep that pact, as through the years this puzzle turns, and to the void each soul returns.
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Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 8:02 AM UTC
A Soul A-part
**My heart beats. In moments that I don't try to understand There you are once more, Breathing in your darkness Clawing the walls Screaming for recognition. I always thought I could walk away from this place. I turn from you Not anticipating Unable to analyse You said goodbye so many times Once when you took your poetic knife and sliced my heart apart, Blood dripping like rain A mess to be cleared And so it was. Then when you left And you left And you left a space. You walked away One message, One word, One X , At a time. Nothing was left. Except the faint and faded sound of your breathe upon the screen. And the silent scream of your torn soul aching. Connections made Ripped, Jaggered Edges. Raw yet forgotten in time Forgive me, If only unconsciously. In a moment I feel you In between a space. Between the beats of my heart And the breath upon my screen**
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Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 4:46 PM UTC
Between the beats
It was yours to hold, yours to keep Blood stained floral dress Death reaquaints this love. Life but only a flash of lightening, Love now a murky hue. It was yours to hold, yours to keep. Holding jaggered shards within your hands. Torture sweet; a pain I longed for. Death reaquaints this love. Reeds now brushing along my ***** Muddy waters swaying this lifeless body It was yours to hold, yours to keep. Longing for your empty caress. Now a dull red, dances over porcelain skin Death reaquaints this love. Pale eyes stare back upon your face. My heart you stole; serrated silver helped. It was yours to hold, yours to keep Death reaquaints this love.
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Love is a ghost.
Innocent green Country bus to Warlingham some say its a nicer place. But we've got an Elizabethian Almshouse and the Whitgift Centre is sterling. The Sun has every reason to smile we've got Lloyds park overlooking a Manhattan style skyline, but have we ignored the uncosmic North of the Borough, even West Croydon is a jaggered corner, making unequal development a mea culpa for the future
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Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC
Croydon 1975
O traveller, O dear wonderer You have walked this gravelled road barefoot Pierced by these jaggered stones Leaving behind your coloured marks like a carefully decorated poem Your legs wish to give up, your eyes wish to shut But the voice in your head says don't give up You need to keep walking - keep walking you say? How much longer till I can end this journey? How much longer till I find my way? This voice pushes on rentlessly without a care to spare Yet all I want is to break free from this shackles that bound me How is this even fair?
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 2:28 AM UTC
The Endless Journey
Abandoned Forgotten Forsaken A journey Stteep hills Jaggered edges A lesson to be learned
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
Untitled