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SøułSurvivør Jun 2015
---

i'm here

invisible hand
retching in your pocket
reaching in your face
teaching all

or nothing

blue bottles buzz
round my head in circles
making me dizzy

I pick a posie of dandilions
gone to seed

I foray about
looking for the shiniest
diamonds in aluminum cans

the brass ring
must certainly be
tarnished gold

the forge bellows that is my chest
heaves in another cough
cooling my tounge
the empty wind that echos ashes
spent embers collect
in the cracks
of the

abyss

my bones which were disjointed
oh so slowly reassemble
instantly
but someone
at the factory didn't
read the
destructions

my legs are arms
my hands
feet

i lie under a cold
sky
in july
oh don't cry
when i die

no whitened seplechur my inheritance
my epitaph nonsense

a palm tree o'r my

grave



soulsurvivor
(C) 6/13/2015
Stream of consciousness work
about the homeless in Los Angeles

Maybe this kind of poem should
have no final destination
This one did. But I allowed it to flow

---
Eloi Feb 2019
Baby blue
And posie pinks
Intertwined with orange tints
Fill the heavens
For all to see
But especially
For you and me!

Golden rays that end the day
As the sun sets and travels away
We sit on opposite sides of the earth
Marvelling at gods mighty works

And through the dark days the sunlight thrives
How you’re here with me despite thousands of miles
How this moment is so precious and real
And how I’m always here for you to tell me how you feel.

Tonight we’re under similar skies,
And tonight I bared a beaming smile,
Because I know in this world I am never alone,
For I have you, my safety, my friend, my comfort zone.

Let the orange tones warm you,
And let the pinks fill your cheeks,
Let the blues be in your eyes,
So beautiful and unique.
Let this sky be a sign that we were always meant to meet,
And let this poem be a memory that we can always keep.

Tonight we were under similar skies;
Despite the hundred thousand miles,
Tonight I know we were together at heart,
Tonight I realised,
We’ll never be apart.

Every sunset was made for you.
You are god
A poem for a dear, dear friend. You show me the beauty in the world, and I’m so grateful for you<3
Ashling Mantel Mar 2015
Ring around the rosie
Running from black death
Nothing can save us a deal has been made

Pocket full of posie
Save us from black death
We did not see our error
Until our last dying breath

Ashes ashes
Our eyes like glass
We can't see the smoke rise
Or the fire overhead

We all fall down
Try to run if you must
But black death catches all
From the poor to the mighty
Brought to our knees

Black death is coming
So run and flee
there's a girl who stands
around the corner
protecting it like
it was her border
I walk by her every
time that I'm leaving
but everytime I wish
to be loudly singing

'hey Rosie girl,
Rosie Posie girl,
come run away with me
stop protecting your corner
and we'll go be free!'

I don't know her
but I love her all the same
the ******* the corner
with the pretty flower name
oh Rosie girl, sweet Rosie girl,
come run away with me
stop protecting your corner
and we'll go be free

then one day she was gone
taken by the law
away from her corner
without sound or brawl
they took my Rosie girl
locked her up and ate the key
and I shouted to the sky
'hey Rosie girl, my Rosie girl,
come run away with me
stop protecting your corner
and we'll go be free!'

then one day a grave marker
showed up on th street
to show that Rosie girl
had finally gotten beat
I cried about the Rosie girl
that girl from the corner
who protected it like
a sentry at the border
the mane of red and
those eyes so green
callin' out words
that sounded mean
but Rosie girl, my Rosie girl,
was the sweetest flower in the snow
too bad the government
decided she just had to go

I don't know her
but I love her all the same
the ******* the corner
with the flower name
oh Rosie girl, sweet Rosie girl,
come run away with me
stop protecting your corner
and we'll go be free

so Rosie's now an angel
I know it like a fool
with her wings of light
and beauty to make you drool
she's the sentry of the corner,
of the border that's now spent
but everybody knows the story
of the girl who came and went

I didn't know her
but I loved her all the same
the ******* the corner
who had that flower name
oh Rosie girl, sweet Rosie girl,
I wish you had run with me
forced to leave your corner
and now you're gone and free
Elsbeth Poe Dec 2013
Closing your eyes
You hear a blonde
With blue eyes
American born and raised
California Valley girl
One nation, "Oh my God!"
Where women are invisible
Without a body deemed pleasant for all

You have no excuse
The sun's up there to lighten your hair
To darken your skin
"Why are you staying in?"
"Reading Sci-fi? Is that like Twilight?"
A mind full of worlds of fantasy
Where I went to escape this society

When other girls were in bikinis
I was in shorts down to my knees
Hiding thighs I felt ashamed by
******* in my belly and chin
Before I reached the age of ten

With numbers jumbling in my head
Given constant reminders
Of how dumb I was then
School meant stress
And tests
All those systems
Based on competition
Made my insides squeeze
Confidence was something foreign
I could not achieve

Words like "ugly" and "stupid"
Inducing tear soaked knees
Or was my hazy brain and pain
From the lack of food in my stomach those days
For years I continued to throw it away
While my girlfriends would eat and eat all day
The same amount was weight I'd gain

"You should go out for dance or swim!"
Full of formfitting uniforms I was made fun of in

Maybe that's why I have a soft spot
For all our patriotic jiggly kids
Especially round little girls
In a man driven world
Of "achieve and succeed"
Led to believe
The worth of a woman
Only lies in her body
In beautiful eyes
In perfect teeth
And long thick hair
In her physical potentials to make males stare

Comments about my perceived beauty
Never made me feel at ease
Why would people choose only to see
All of the things that do not make me me

In youth
"She's so cute!"
Then suddenly
You're a ****** object
From the age of thirteen
"They're compliments!"
"Say thank you"
To cars that shout
And men that stare
To whistling lips
And grabbing hands
Taking Innocence
With these my widening hips

In patriarchy
The Land of the Free
Has yet to mean equality
My country made it clear to me
Girls and boys don't start side by side
Like my bother I wanted a skateboard to ride
Not his face
But his interests
Were how he was defined
While I was told
My mind was of a different size

Still I never stopped running
And managed to find
This hidden word
"Objectified"
-To regard as a thing
-Disregarding feelings

This societal demise
Violent crimes on the rise
With women not often the ones taking lives
I almost can't blame them
When they do as they see
When men are taught they need power
Not regard or empathy

At fourteen
A tall man in leather
Chased me
Kidnap or ****
I was his for the take
Though I managed to flee
That fear cut me deep
And I knew in that moment
Strength was something I'd need

Now as girls we're taught we're fragile
But let's go back again
Back as far as I remember
I longed to roughhouse with men

When I wanted to join the wrestling team
They thought that of course I must be joking
Laughing at the idea of a girl with the desire to do
One more thing
Meant for the boys
"Not you"

To this day when I strike my Rosie posie
Riveting muscles put proudly on display
They chuckle at my love to do push ups each day

"It's not ladylike to show you have strength"
"It's not **** to be a woman who's strong"
"Muscles on girls look weird and wrong"
"Don't intimidate men"
"They prefer women thin"

But we all know that's not how it's always been.
Just take a look at Marilyn
American curves they used to define beauty and grace
But Hollywood only gave her the role of young blonde with no brains

In the melting *** of the U.S.A.
A melding of women of all shapes and age
A stew that's consistent of quite the array
But yet there's just one type of ******* display
And it's ******* time that ******* change

America's the beautiful?
What a stupid form of praise.

E.Poe
*Dec 2013
Zombee Sep 2014
"normally my Message,  
is
meant to be diCouraging:

urging you to reConsider
burning these Chemicals.

medical aWareness
is my
bearing of Courtesy.

burn it with the **** n Liquor...
...this is a Poison."








poising........Posing  
as a
potion  for a  Voiding  
all the
voices  in yer  Dozy  
little
Red  Dead  Rosie  
little
posie  of  a  Head.
"Red  Red  Rover."


"Victor........Please..­
..come to Join us.






.
"See that pack of  virginia killing sticks
on thee end of the piano?"






Yes.






"All you need to know about life
is retained within those Four Walls."










"you will notice that
One of your personalities is
seduced by thee illusions of grandeur:
the Gold packet of Kings size
with a Regal insignia:  an
attractive implication toward
Glamour and Wealth:
a subtle suggestion that
cigarettes are indeed
your royal and loyal friends.

and That, pete,, is a Lie."








"your Other personality is trying to
draw your attention to
the Flip side of the discussion:
written in Boring, Bold,
black and white
is the statement that these
Neat little soldiers of death,
Are, in fact, trying......to **** you.

and That, pete,, is the Truth."










"Oh,,  beauty is a
beguiling call to death
and im addicted to
the Sweeeet Pitch of it's siren."











"That that Starts Sweet, ends bitter,
That which starts Bitter....ends Sweet."


-  RocknRolla  (Piano Scene)














Ashes......Ashes.
we All  Fall  Down.
Sombro Nov 2015
She likes to laugh in summer
She likes to dance in Spring
In Winter warm's the butter
In Autumn dancers sing

In June flowers don her hair
In April grow she will
Adance the chance to see the sun
December - member, green is still.

And yellow shouts the solar flowers
While melody passes the birds on pink wing
Across the bright of rainbowed showers
An Autumn-Winter-Summer-Spring

Cosy posie purple heart
Pine cones grow and roots wriggle down
Soldiers, lovers, sippers sing
The aurora more a festive crown

And 'lo, my sib'; take light in eye
Though grey and opaque cleanse the lens
What may share may never die
What may grow stays here forever.
A rambling one, sure, but I hope some feeling of the contented passage of life got through.
DieingEmbers Nov 2012
No silver bells nor cockleshells
no ring a ring a Rosie
just honest toil and English soil
to bring to you a posie

I miss you              I miss you

I'm feeling down
Just messing with Mary Mary quite contrary and ring a ring a roses
brandon nagley Jun 2015
A wraparound escalier
Rosette's to wrap ourn Dud's
Rebels to society
Low and high class thugs

Epicurean phenomenon!!!!

A Cosmo's to macroism's
Plasma to holy force
Phatom's of ourn own opera
As yen to take its course

Homage to ourn own castle!!!


Excretion to bare ourn name
Wild gluttons
Barbarian untamed
Spelling eachother's name

In hieroglyphic memorandum!!!

We shalt travel beyond old Egypt
We shalt gun the pagodas
We shalt peep the shrines of gosha

As in giants we shalt become!!!


A convent well maketh many babies
Basilica's of the angels
Seraph's of treaties

Shalt we sign ourn admiration in blood?

Tis
Yes
Tis
Love!!!

Kirks to keep ourn reme
mberance
Friary's to be attentive
As the mutuality

Shalt be sweet mine aimer!!!!

No distance shalt be to far
No rancor to blow ourn hearts
No hot mustard to stain out tarts

As Madrid shalt wrap us between acacia posie's!!!!
Birdie Sep 2023
If I ever die at the side of the eastern road,
Where the broken bumpers and crisp packets collect,
Where the snow is shovelled into grey slush streams,
Please don’t buy the garish posie from the petrol station,
Don’t buy my memory a card factory teddy bear,
Leave the cards’ platitudes and poems on the shelves at Clinton’s,
Leave the lamp posts and road signs alone,
Pack up your sympathy, take it all home to your mums house.
Remember me as the girl that made you laugh,
Unpack your tears if you have them and give them to your pillow,
Give them to Facebook if you must, or give them to your friends.
I promise I’d do the same for you,
Unless you’d rather be remembered by straggling tinsel clinging to a lamp post by one piece of damp, desperate sellotape.
By wilting white roses dropping sad brown petals onto chewing gum tainted tarmac.
Unless you’d like to be known as the man whose name is scrawled in biro inside of a cheap card blutacked onto the sign for the Havant bypass.
In which case I’ll drag my sympathy to Clinton’s, to card factory and my closest petrol station.
I’ll say goodbye to the tune of sirens and rattling sainsburys lorries.
Then cry alone each time I drive past your withering memorial and try to remember to clean it up next week.
Marshal Gebbie Jun 2020
There, in that instant of time
Lies the fragment of life that I call, dearly mine.
Where components lay all scattered about
Which to the casual observer, is clearly, a rout,
But to me this mess is ordered and clear,
Indicating good feeling and moments of cheer,
Indicating the values held close to my heart
In tiers of contentment from finish to start.
For they encompass joy in a positive way
Where the happiness flows in laughter, at play.
Where the warmth in the soul warms the fingers in snow
And the good humour bubbles, wherever we go,
Where your smile is infectious, contagious at best
And our gifting of gratitude smooths out the rest
With your posie of buttercups, yellow and bright,
Plus our winning grins that bring sunshine to night,
Where the wrinkles and crinkles all over my face
Make your hoot of joy, now, …an utter disgrace!

M.
6th June 2020
From long ago….A moment, in blue sky and sunshine, of scintillating happiness with a young blonde thing by the deep, rock pool waterfall in the snow and the bright yellow buttercups…way up on the mountain.

— The End —