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"phage" poems
Métis, Themis, Ma’at, their banter was for naught. All the tides and tithings wisdoms and their teachings, Daemonium forgot! But the heavens cry  manna as Nix cried out reprieve! An act that loosed the flood, the chaos of her sea. Her pain arose a champion to tend to all her needs, Formed of Celestial Ocean he bore down on the freed. A giant wave of madness, thrusting mist of sadness eradicating gladness... One led the ruthless breed. Opaque in their beginning, formless shapes in twining. Conjoined but not together, accompanied the weather. Thalassa’s stringy tether wrapped them all forever. Come or go in seasons, live or die in age. No Spring to Fall in reasons, travailing of the mage? Black tentacles the streamers, rooted into wave. Witness the all-wise and snaking phantom phage... Chiron watches while he prances, his dressage on the shore. Arising liminal of beings wettened ambiguity of yore. Even Iblis is impressed, such black rotten to the core! Merkabah or egg, mountain, belly, tree they squabble. All elements do I cobble, such are actions of the wobble.
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Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 7:28 PM UTC
The Flood
History is a pendulum swinging perilously back and forth over our shared humanity. Slicing bitterly at the air above me with a visceral hatred for all the good things I hoped we could be. Kinder to hater, forgiving to denier loving to crier sharper it slices cutting the air cleanly leaving me feeling it keenly. Wild rhetoric going viral, virus of white power words spreading like the plague, a poisonous and bubonic phage. I struggle to stop it, this rising tide of tired tirades, republican charades turning different skin shades into the enemy. These neighbors are our family, but the pendulum sees them separated by the serrated blade, exhausted by the hate and violence that blazes. History returns to sicken my sorrowfully stricken heartbeat.
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Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 6:33 AM UTC
Untitled 85
Beginning to sing, some eyes upon the floor, their voices do bring long lies to my front door, lies that I never left far enough behind to lose them from my mind. Never have I left those stages of early life, the times bereft of phage and surly strife, yet feelings of disorder always envelope my musings. I'm older but can't grow up. Singing and dressing for you is what I know, and it's depressing when I can't let go of the memories I'll never live again, so I sort and file desire in a bin. In waste basket of a room I exist, such a tragic jacket does persist to tie my arms at my waist. My life is such a waste. It's all my fault. I can't accept fate. Bits I'll certainly plate, but subsist on the malt. Drowning in insanity, Reeling in reality, I break down every evening, and leak out weary screaming.
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Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 3:55 AM UTC
New Ones
Fear of unseen is terrifying, every being. men are aloof, no matter under the same roof your loved one is ailing but the dread of phage is prevailing. Alas! that lethal plight robust mortals are losing might
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Mar 13, 2021
Mar 13, 2021 at 11:24 AM UTC
Unseen
To conquer the kingdom,vainly he tried Her minutest army ready for siege Oh, the flying flu booming like a phage Begging on his knees, for kindness he cried.
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Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 1:16 AM UTC
Covid War