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"mudded" poems
The sink clogged, with the hair I'm pulling out. The deranged dripping of the pipes on the veneer... A marvel. To see what people will do to feel like they have some sense of control... The window sill, covered in dust, paint chips, mold, The carcasses of dead flies... There is an exquisite beauty to lonliness. It's something relatable. A way of being that is attainable, but unwanted. It's just like this day,   unwanted by all. Some may though; want it. Perhaps they are simply afflicted, In need of a shoulder for their worries and a day to hold them. I don't think they would rip their hair out to do so. Not like me. Who cares? I'll just watch now, as the blood drips down the sink, on the day they all needed, when the pipes burst and dripped the mudded water onto the the fresh veneer...
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 1:30 PM UTC
Numb Enlightenment.
scorning sun bursts into the aisles of graying curly waves, punching yellow teeth and candied sweets with the green of loving laughter that i've not heard in years. you taught our fingers to bleed of bramble dew. so sticky in our attempts to keep Genevieve's crystal filled but, clear of improper pounds. collected ounces that rudely overflow, are picked with mudded, forested feet. consumed so clean and sweet, from thorns between the brush, the aisles buzzed of summers paths that only lead us where we knew. through the scales and passed the cords where drying life would heat our warmth, nights would drop with echoing sounds like trains slowly passing through our country's vacant crossing. you voluminous sap of unaccounted ooze. you sweet maple so never barren or dull. you flame of northern light. take me back to the path we passed where cords are dried to burn where frogs croak in Côté's creek where my memories live and yearn
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Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 4:12 AM UTC
Bloodied Bramble Dew
Granite Dominoes The soft earth yields, I watched from above Little by little it opens, inviting Rectangular spaces of mudded thoughts, sifted by ***** piled of fear Granite dominoes stand in lined support, dates moistened by dew…counting Carved in regrets once felt, loves never shared Voices from the trees cackle, laughter it seems brings the sun Good riddance on fawning meadows breathes and the sky turns to red Applause echoes valley’d intersections where traffic lights sing as cars stop for a quick breather, waiting on the green and I see it all Life goes on even if in minus, faux tears fill tissues, a scented kind all the while checking their watches hoping for a quick release Oak and imitation gold are lowered, polished indignity Carnations are tossed, dying as they fly No one remains…remains except the quickly forgotten…
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Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
Granite Dominoes
~ The soft earth yields, I watched from above Little by little it opens, inviting Rectangular spaces of mudded thoughts, sifted by ***** piled of fear Granite dominoes stand in lined support, dates moistened by dew…counting Carved in regrets once felt, loves never shared Voices from the trees cackle, laughter it seems brings the sun Good riddance on fawning meadows breathes and the sky turns to red Applause echoes valley’d intersections where traffic lights sing as cars stop for a quick breather, waiting on the green and I see it all Life goes on even if in minus, faux tears fill tissues, a scented kind all the while checking their watches hoping for a quick release Oak and imitation gold are lowered, polished indignity Carnations are tossed, dying as they fly No one remains…remains except the quickly forgotten…
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Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 7:23 AM UTC
Granite Dominoes
There are these spots on my ceiling. Plainly speaking, they are off-white patches where the heads of nails were mudded over, but not well sanded. I opt to see them as push-pins squashed when spat on monochrome maps to point me dippered ways outre-ward. Their gap-tooth patterns micro-mimicking constellations hap my eyes to hazard hopping through new belt hoops. Then passed by barely habited worlds, I wheel round orbits molecularly chained to collide, next time. My neighbor's heavy steps fade out.
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Feb 18, 2010
Feb 18, 2010 at 7:29 AM UTC
There are these spots
Angel you were once so Pure, On earth you looked Over us all, but temptation Was your downfall White power Crack, Crystal, Stardust, Was your sinful choice, It took you to the heavens But with every comedown The higher did you fall, With every injection,  feathers did Wilt, Diminish, Wither, Till white turned black Upon the wet mudded floor, You were one of the many Who had succumb to human Desires, Sins, Pleasures, That were the failings of Mankind, but even the Highest morals can falter Before they fall,   Angel upon high The last feather did fall, And in to the arm injected Pure white heaven That turned you angel of white wings, To a ****** human how far did you fall..
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:55 AM UTC
Angel White
Here she is with soulful eyes telling me I'm ancient, I'm precious, but she's wrong; I'm pale, sickly lithium and she's gold, she's the sweat of the sun. It turns out every word I think I have is foreign to her. Hammered out, inscribed with triple negatives. Each leaves its meaning to be moulded. It's not a way to be forgotten; always thought freckles would be red, a spark not soot, not post holes on a new land. A discovery, not something I'd feel so wrong for noticing. There was no red in her. I'd stripped it out like thread through teeth, solid ache; not like how you’d expect. I am not careful, while she pretends not to need any care. Until now, never exposed to each other; we’re left with this red in our hands, too mudded like closing eyes to the sun. Seeing ourselves stretched thin, buried bronze in the river, an offer to what? To make it hold deeper, the very start of us.
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Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
Negatives
Let the rain descend and sacralize the blood-stained earth Let it veil the martyr's body and wash his mudded face Let it be destructive, let it collapse the skyscrapers as we rebirth Let the lighting streak the sky, let the thunder play its music as the winds dance with grace Dance with me, collide your body with mine, let us become one and let us fight the overgrowing darkness This is the last fight, the only chance to revive Winter and to create Spring
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 6:37 AM UTC
October Rain
And so they played they were Innocent, But the words in wood They spoke In black mud "Wood was" "Wood is" "Wood will end" "Wood will become" "What had began" Fear runs fast in young eyes, As to a father they did run "Calm down little ones" And in to woods he took An instrument of destruction, So upon wood he did Hack, Carve, Splinter Pieces now  layed upon the ground, A splinter did puncture His finger that bleed upon Black mudded ground,   And he dug at hated mud For words to be seen, "A splinter" !Will seal the fate" "And too wood will consume" He looked upon the words And glancing blows, Now all was splintered Covered in black mud, Days had past Night was calling, He awoke startled, a burning Sensation, Looking where the splinter Had punctured,  his Finger unable to move, Then as the nights did pass More fingers fell to the numbness Unable to move, He awoke Three nights past, His hand discoloured And a elbow locked, so much pain The fingers now spread out angles were Distorted, Altered, Contaminated, As the stiffness spread Arm and hand now locked in this figure, not natural, His skin did wrinkle Not a colour that Is meant to be, He though he would breath in his last Outside he ran, Bare feet did sprint, then for "No reason" His feet did stop Pain seared through his Appendages He looked down in horror Toes rooted to the ground He reached up "God what have you done" And so the skin consumed wrinkled Like bark his skin did Manifest Once only wrinkled But more like bark from a tree Wood was destroyed, It warned in the wood "Disrespect nature" "And wood you become" There is a new tree in the garden The Mother looks upon this new Leaved tree "It looks like your dads face" "Only just" The child says, There father was never seen But he had paid the heavy price For the words foretold,   That wood will consume, Sap leaks from the tree Slowly it fell for many months to come Always seeing but unable to move, His family sheltered under the tree in Summers, Winter, Rain, They always kept dry Under the tree, And every so often, A branch would move, to brush up To be close to his family.
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
Words In The Wood
And so they played they were Innocent, But the words in wood They spoke In black mud "Wood was" "Wood is" "Wood will end" "Wood will become" "What had began" Fear runs fast in young eyes, As to a father they did run "Calm down little ones" And in to woods he took An instrument of destruction, So upon wood he did Hack, Carve, Splinter Pieces now  layed upon the ground, A splinter did puncture His finger that bleed upon Black mudded ground,   And he dug at hated mud For words to be seen, "A splinter" !Will seal the fate" "And too wood will consume" He looked upon the words And glancing blows, Now all was splintered Covered in black mud, Days had past Night was calling, He awoke startled, a burning Sensation, Looking where the splinter Had punctured,  his Finger unable to move, Then as the nights did pass More fingers fell to the numbness Unable to move, He awoke Three nights past, His hand discoloured And a elbow locked, so much pain The fingers now spread out angles were Distorted, Altered, Contaminated, As the stiffness spread Arm and hand now locked in this figure, not natural, His skin did wrinkle Not a colour that Is meant to be, He though he would breath in his last Outside he ran, Bare feet did sprint, then for "No reason" His feet did stop Pain seared through his Appendages He looked down in horror Toes rooted to the ground He reached up "God what have you done" And so the skin consumed wrinkled Like bark his skin did Manifest Once only wrinkled But more like bark from a tree Wood was destroyed, It warned in the wood "Disrespect nature" "And wood you become" There is a new tree in the garden The Mother looks upon this new Leaved tree "It looks like your dads face" "Only just" The child says, There father was never seen But he had paid the heavy price For the words foretold,   That wood will consume, Sap leaks from the tree Slowly it fell for many months to come Always seeing but unable to move, His family sheltered under the tree in Summers, Winter, Rain, They always kept dry Under the tree, And every so often, A branch would move, to brush up To be close to his family.
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96
I How will you remember me, will you form my shape as is my way, my veins swollen with a veiled rejoice that hides my burial chamber beneath a shrouded veil of contempt. Who will remember me? A fighting roaring man drunk as sand an outside storm that weathered faces in a rising sky full of snow horsemen, that draw your eyes upwardly then fall below their peculiar time. II How shall I be remembered? A lover that blazed a trail every midnight, he that stole and sold hearts in a single beat, fashionable runt, cool in summers heady days that ran from a friends sisters bed before her age. Who would remember? The love the labour the sweat the boundless hours working for cruel light, a family pace of a snails want that sweet cruel need that never shy’s and I am bound by my fragile word. III My brother, my sisters voices I hear with a clear ring gutted on cold stone ground in frost and I knew love before my maidens mouth whispered through thickets of thorns and bramble. Who will remember them? It’s the breath from those that rant, clergymen with fierce eyes that talk in fondness, yet would perish when their birds fly unknown before deaths curtain is closed and comital spoke. Lost in my map, my life, my day in poise. IV Now I sigh long into the day. My steepled church sky soars far above me and days grow shorter with every passing mouth. Saints and sinners ride together in fallen flames as I look for an open eye in this mudded rockpool water. And I remember; with long armed embrace that I kissed maidens lips when they were young with starry eyes and was carefree with strong clasp of bone and in this third season fall Autumn was taught that forever was my sea, but a few hours between. All this long before my grave and dying light.
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Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 7:14 PM UTC
Before my grave and dying light
I How will you remember me, will you form my shape as is my way, my veins swollen with a veiled rejoice that hides my burial chamber beneath a shrouded veil of contempt. Who will remember me? A fighting roaring man drunk as sand an outside storm that weathered faces in a rising sky full of snow horsemen, that draw your eyes upwardly then fall below their peculiar time. II How shall I be remembered? A lover that blazed a trail every midnight, he that stole and sold hearts in a single beat, fashionable runt, cool in summers heady days that ran from a friends sisters bed before her age. Who would remember? The love the labour the sweat the boundless hours working for cruel light, a family pace of a snails want that sweet cruel need that never shy’s and I am bound by my fragile word. III My brother, my sisters voices I hear with a clear ring gutted on cold stone ground in frost and I knew love before my maidens mouth whispered through thickets of thorns and bramble. Who will remember them? It’s the breath from those that rant, clergymen with fierce eyes that talk in fondness, yet would perish when their birds fly unknown before deaths curtain is closed and comital spoke. Lost in my map, my life, my day in poise. IV Now I sigh long into the day. My steepled church sky soars far above me and days grow shorter with every passing mouth. Saints and sinners ride together in fallen flames as I look for an open eye in this mudded rockpool water. And I remember; with long armed embrace that I kissed maidens lips when they were young with starry eyes and was carefree with strong clasp of bone and in this third season fall Autumn was taught that forever was my sea, but a few hours between. All this long before my grave and dying light.
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47
A glance below Reveals a mudded water Reflecting the city lights from above Tightly closed eyes Squeeze out the few tears that remain A wind so cold it slices through the skin The pretend future flashes in the dark A writer Who's work stands tall with the best As this battle runs on repeat Sanity becomes a luxury That can't seem to be purchased anymore
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May 26, 2021
May 26, 2021 at 10:15 PM UTC
The Battle That Runs On Repeat
walls, worn out with pride paint, scratched off with anger floor, mudded with vices. start again. (and there goes the sound of destruction. then silence. all that is left is a broken wasteland.)
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
renovation
A night of sowing Uncomfortable impressions, Fading into blue distance. Wanting nothing, Except one. To much to ask? Forget it. Anything could follow anger, shame or love, Love so heavy. Infinitely more everyday, Light-years behind this new longing. Ignorant of the real world missing piece. Stupid dreams, Don’t know anything. Mudded in older with, Without waiting... For Airport Embrace & The Picture Show
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Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 12:16 PM UTC
Stupid Dreams
I wish I could feel the burn of your lips as they press into mine, But all my mind can comprehend is the tight pain as your knife digs into the broken edges of my already curving spine. Your eyes are sunken and hollow, and they match the shell that used to contain my heart. Blood still pumps, brown and mudded, a lack of oxygen from your lips ******* the life out of my body as they burn As your hand twists and my dark blood trails like thick syrup, coating your fingers. Your cold fingers, almost as cold as my feet, circulation slowing, face paling but you don't move away. You seem to enjoy it as you pull me closer, crushing my arms with your own, muffling the beating of my heart as it slows. I wish you could feel the cracks in my lips but I forgot, and put on that lipstick you like so much this morning. Didn't think that you would take it as a sign. As a sign that like that cold day behind the tree I would accept a kiss As a sign that I would giggle as you surprised me with another three weeks later Or a sign that, when I said it was over, when I turned around to get on the bus I would be waiting for you to spin me around. Because I wasn't. I don't wish I could feel your lips burn as you kiss me. I wish I could ignore the heat and focus on the dimming sensation as your knife pulls out, But then again I guess I never was any good at noticing when I was killing myself for you
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Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 12:35 AM UTC
Killing Myself... for You
Check the flows that double dutch Even make Frankie's bus double clutch Overtime im over time **** a limit Landed on Plymouth rock hard to knock Me out of the box like womens of Deborah *** we can't be friends If you only after dividends no pretend Suckas leechin' as an extend No ropes to hang on im so long gone Toxic ozone folks get the prolong Once they hear the words over the song Beat on my chest like king kong ding **** Managers said i was wrong  for soundin' his gong All ya heard was a bell that wrung sprung by my quick blow a pro dynamite pyro Stick to what ya know rapper's in slo mo Once I get the shine and glow Like a disco ball not many wanna brawl Flint cells spark it well til ya thoughts swell Got ya head spinnin' like a carousel So it never fails silenced ya cartel Once all hell breaks loose you choose? Flatten ya caboose aint no **** truce Once I flex the duece duece **** a loose goose After I'm done I chunk up the duece Then sit back & sip that Canadian mudded moose My double o three fifty seven sending ****** like Bronson to heaven Prefer Mack elevens blood stained veteran From the pain held within' my war brethrens   Never shed tears to the ears of fears Drawn by an illusion broke the boostin' Cuz I ain't use to loosin' cruisin' Through enemies my way on the highway Smoke the stickiest joints watch me anoint From styles that point like a compass Needle nose see how the magnet flow Level ya degrees breezin' through the trees Mother nature is a tease Cure all diseases Im raps remedy if you ain't a friend of me Might as well become one with the cemetery Minus the obituary fools hurry and worry Haters say and pray that "the demons take you away" But they get no say nay I'm all about the grey Clouds speak loud when the Sunshine's not allowed
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Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 3:08 PM UTC
Sinnamunz
Check the flows that double dutch Even make Frankie's bus double clutch Overtime im over time **** a limit Landed on Plymouth rock hard to knock Me out of the box like womens of Deborah *** we can't be friends If you only after dividends no pretend Suckas leechin' as an extend No ropes to hang on im so long gone Toxic ozone folks get the prolong Once they hear the words over the song Beat on my chest like king kong ding **** Managers said i was wrong  for soundin' his gong All ya heard was a bell that wrung sprung by my quick blow a pro dynamite pyro Stick to what ya know rapper's in slo mo Once I get the shine and glow Like a disco ball not many wanna brawl Flint cells spark it well til ya thoughts swell Got ya head spinnin' like a carousel So it never fails silenced ya cartel Once all hell breaks loose you choose? Flatten ya caboose aint no **** truce Once I flex the duece duece **** a loose goose After I'm done I chunk up the duece Then sit back & sip that Canadian mudded moose My double o three fifty seven sending ****** like Bronson to heaven Prefer Mack elevens blood stained veteran From the pain held within' my war brethrens   Never shed tears to the ears of fears Drawn by an illusion broke the boostin' Cuz I ain't use to loosin' cruisin' Through enemies my way on the highway Smoke the stickiest joints watch me anoint From styles that point like a compass Needle nose see how the magnet flow Level ya degrees breezin' through the trees Mother nature is a tease Cure all diseases Im raps remedy if you ain't a friend of me Might as well become one with the cemetery Minus the obituary fools hurry and worry Haters say and pray that "the demons take you away" But they get no say nay I'm all about the grey Clouds speak loud when the Sunshine's not allowed
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43
Repel & bind evil you find. Forsake & return everything it takes. When thee earth crumbles & quakes. It makes it's presence known. Sometimes it even calls you on the phone. Never trust a cheater. Don't marry a wife beater. Stay away from the perverts. Psych wards is where they medicate the berserk. Shun your eyes from their exposure. Regain your calm composure. Don't bargain or compromise. Death's eternity without pity & no where to hide. Justice juristiction is wide. In the end they will get their demise. See the truth through their lies. Use all of your mind & be wise. Don't waste your time with the queer. Listen & have a good ear. You can hear them talk through the walls. Behind the doors in the bathroom stalls. Various messengers deliver a warning. The streets will be flooded. The grass & dirt mudded. Don't entertain the boring. All night until the morning.. Outside the rain will be pouring.
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Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
Punish the Wicked
My boots Mudded My boat Seems crudded Life long Love life An old man now With the storm to ride Cool mobile California!
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Cool mobile
As I gaze and I reflect Seeing eyes and being seen, See my hands, hands of my father, Though better deeds they glean. Smell soap upon my mother's skin By nose she prayed I'd clean, A mane of mudded lions, preened from somewhere in between. From under placid irises, say "nay" to what it seems, I'm under eyes, A child of guilt, And I should not be seen.
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May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
A Viewing
I folded like a blind bird, crashing down to the ground hard. I eventually stood up, calling out for help but miles away there was no one. I seemed to be lost in a one man's world. I found myself alone; abandoned. I needed an ice pack, feeling woozy I sat down hard on the dusty clay. I just had the wind knocked out of me. I will outright dispel any notion that I sang like a parrot? I'd teared up but did not cry. You caused a flood of emotions no doubt. I was able to stand up again and mudded it along. I had baked under the sun for too long. No more will I be blanketed with your feather dust and lewd behavior. I give up! You must go! Trying to fix what's long been broken is not feeble anymore. I refuse to figure out any avenue to making this work. I refuse to engage you any further in which I have done. I won't continue to allow you to break my spirit; half which is gone already. You drive a hard bargain! I clearly see pass the lies and deceit. I can do bad all on my own! I refuse to engage you any further! I rather stare into the eyes of the bird all day, then to play kid games with your immature brain. But thank you for the Christmas gift. I will enjoy the single life with myself and the more loyal African grey.
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
African Grey
His death did not surprise me As old men go he went quite well Happy After his bride of oh those long years His final moments were torrid Reaching out for Her Hoping she was there I cried then as I often do still For his eyes can cry no longer Happy His longyear in my soul His final moments my hope That past this mudded breath She is there.
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Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 9:36 PM UTC
Longyear
I am made of my brothers twisting grip, as we grapple on the living room floor. I am made up of saying uncle, and laughing so hard at the dinner table that milk comes out of my noise. I am made up of slobbering dog kisses, loving kitten purrs, and injured strays. I am made up scrambling through bushes, slipping in dirt, and mudded shoes. Of wild hair, wild eyes, and a wild grin. I am made up of road trips and sunny days. Of pool parties and family gathering where laughter is the only thing that echo’s through you’re ears. I am made up of countless flues and colds that kept me homesick. Of ditching school with my best friends to go to Disney land, Of every Friday night being girl’s night for 3 years. I am made up of heart break for lost love and lost friends. I am made up of travel and moving away I am made of studying in Australia, Of my Danish and Dutch friends that I chose to make my family. I am made up of smiling faces as I walk to school, Of ravens over head, and redwoods straight in front. I am made of scratched arms and bruised legs Of callused hands and burning muscles. I am made of a drive for adventure and new experiences Of an aggressive spirit And a curious mind. I am made of freedom, Of courage Hope, Happiness, Sorrow, Loss, Heartbreak. Of love Eccentricity And a warriors spirit. I am made up of my memories, of the people I have met, and of the experiences that will never stop. -ALC February 23, 2019
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Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 8:59 PM UTC
What I am made of
I’m from the roaring of the red four-wheeler, The swiftly mudded depths of the nishana, The sand covered clamshells, Buried deep into the deep water. Thinking that I’m part mermaid. Coming up from the white wonders like powder sugar that gets sprinkled on the fudge brownies my grandma makes., Shivering after being tipped to what I thought was my death. Being warmed by grandma’s famous brownies that just came out of the oven like I was a brownie baking in the oven. Helping my grandpa flatten out the land, For another Weppler Sleigh party, Before the snow brings the wonders of joy. I’m from the limbs I find, In the woods making forts. Having to be mysterious because I’m wanted From having the best imaginary friend anyone could have. Coming home to the smell of hard work knowing my dad is home. Thanking him for all he had done for this family. I soon snuggle down into my fluffy bedding waiting for sleep to overcome me knowing that I'm safe in the warm house I call home.
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Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 9:18 PM UTC
Where I'm From
A brisk wind pulls the rosemary branches Too hard. A crow so dark it finds itself blue Sings a taunting melody. Nothing ever sings back. Snow falls, each one showing the world Something new. The ground fosters dead things And waits for rebirth. A girl in a yellow puffer coat Walks by a fallen bird's nest, she doesn't notice The boy with the dark hood following A step too close. If only the sky Weren't so gray. The rotting aspen seems To tilt, putting the world on an axis. Silence Is met with wandering hands as the snow Pulls all the ambiance into mudded soil. Only the scuffle of footprints is left to tell The story of that coldness. A crow so dark it finds itself blue Sings a reassuring melody. Nothing ever sings back.
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
Yellow
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved; Great lines, something to think about (Edward Thomas) Woke up to the rain and the wind beating on my window pane, Yet I thought of getting dressed and going there. A subway system, so far not yet up to standards, A job like mine, no one need to hurry too A mindset like mine, meant for me to lay low during the northeaster...rain and wind Poor yet full of pride, I am the servant Queen, Yesterday, I struggle to maintain my sanity Due to working conditions: at the workplace I have been feuding for years. Nothing changes not even an added penny, before its death, More work, more stress, no respect   Night supervisors, penciling   or rather maneuvering into the darkness at six am. A street crowded with overturn bins, Flooded streets, with mudded running water Mother of Nature, another dangerous disaster? You meaner than corvid and Alaska, I am the servant Queen, poor, yet full of pride: I am fed up with others trying to take me for a ride Sometimes, you just need a break from a bad situation Never, berate yourself for giving expression to your emotions. Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;(Edward Thomas) line I planned to stick, to my believes, nothing will change, I will always be the servant Queen, as longs as them reign:
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Oct 26, 2021
Oct 26, 2021 at 1:44 PM UTC
Colder than Alaska