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Tom McCone Apr 2013
tired autonomies, days keep on flailin', seizin'; darlin', I'd
be bolder if only I'd tried. makin' plans to abandon 'em,
the dark reach and tenements of those towers of regret for
all of my inactivity or self-targeted hostility, and those dreams
meant everything to me until awakening into morning hours
or afternoon, more likely, with the dull grip of uncertainty
shudderin' all the windowpanes back and forth lightly, oh
so **** delicately, and I think about you as soon as I've
drawn up ambition to make any kind of move, the pieces of
the vast puzzle I've called your mind for the better part of
the calendar dates I've drawn up into fifteen gauge shells of
the ghosts of my past, those that follow my footprints in evenings,
the pools of aluminium meltings and lemon extractions
to constrict the summer hours, convictions that bleach out
all other chances of hope.

so relinquish your grip on my red and unfolding heart I've
been beating the syllables of your name with, and abusing
the page width of headspace, serving only to alienate the
froth on the shoreline of daring chances: I'd have given
my all at the sight of romance, but I sit here with no
glimpse of intention from you; the crestfalls I subject myself
to, not for the sake of lack of want, but full lack of what
I'd do if I called and asked where you wanted to go at
three a.m. or five p.m., or any other canonical time of
the day; I'd spend any of 'em with you, and I'd
ask, but I'm somewhat sure you're not that into whatever I
could mean, or whatever my words do seem to transcribe themselves
upon contact with your mind, so keep on existing and I
will do the same.

[or, anyway, at least I'll try]
Sally A Bayan Dec 2016
(10W X 3)

Snow covers the grass...now,
Like frozen tears, melting
Graying...

Fallen dry leaves...trapped,
Buried underneath white,
Cold wind bites.....

Sunlight dazzles,
Brownish grass breathes,
Crystal meltings flow,
They sparkle...


Sally

Copyright December 19, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
...out in the cold, watching snow melt, setting grass free...
M Eastman Nov 2014
Mouths move to
Abstract sounds
Musings
Lounge ice cream
Meltings
Of black and white
Drippings
Out of the frames
Of old pictures
Deepali Agarwal Jan 2019
from rough, tattered to freshly scented pages,
I've read words, applauded for ages.
No, they haven't touched souls,
for then graveyards would have been shrines,
of these wise, elite men,
who lived the life at deep.

Innumerable scribblings,
gaining shiny molds of clay that make good decors.
all life's struggle praised for literary skills.

Wonder is a poet's life.
The greatest poem of all times, his own life,
'cause he imagined his music meltings stone so hard,
but the truth lies far beyond.

We are devils, made of dust so rare
that rains so fragile
cannot wash it offshore.
kevin 1d
Boring wars
Nothing to lose
Heading out without lumber
Heavy nails
Wooden glues
Spackled shoes
Building halos
Over do

And i have to welcome
Where we come to
For those you wouldn’t lose
Loving myself angry greys
Since a boy’s missing toys
Meltings mountains
You’ve destroyed

And freeways fly me nights
Following cant’s bitter spites
Kingdoms come and kings wont blues
Remember we got the news
She’s gone, she’s never, never
Going to pry

Leaving you a bridge we loaned
Walking homes just the dad’s
And now i'm coming in
Without holding up a frame
Irish lines new and bold
Get to know what
I’m the boy

Stopping life’s not a choice
It’s how a built a voice
Expressions, excepting it
Deadly, ways playing games
Now i hate to love
Completely changing, changing ways
my military built my constitution, and i build the world one

— The End —