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A horror movie scene as the heroine escapes.
Everything is still besides her convalescing breath and the distant, chasing wind.
Not a noise is heard except the fall leave's rattle and the birch wood's moaning bark in the moonlight.
Her body slouches into the protection of a lone shed, and shrouds itself in the aroma of cut grass.
A tense brow relieves and tired eyes close, thankful to receive the momentary peace.

A possible misstep turns the wary peace on end with the jagged cut of broken leaves. The once relieved brow now concedes surprise as wild eyes are cast towards an opaque barricade.
Sly pieces of garden equipment leash a weathered jacket in place as she attempts to stand.
A cackle is heard, a shriek undone.
To spite the brittle wood, the formulaic jump-scare-skeleton-hand bursts through the shed's solicitous walls, set to declare the last of a weary soul as his own.
The wind catches up and spearheads any hole it can find.
It begins whistling around the dim room like a tornado elated to havoc behind a castle's walls.
The tree bark howls, the leaves, now delight.
We learn there is no reprieve for a begging champion.
The camera slowly backs out of the splintered hole, and pans over a silhouetted forest to face the waning moon.
The hero succumbs with muted screams to a gore far below and out of frame.

Our only closure, a black screen, with bright white letters, slowly scrolling up.


The end.
Just something I had fun writing, figured not posting it would be a waste despite it not being "poetry", just an experiment I guess. I feel like it would be good, in like, a high-school, short story competition. *****.
KiraLili Oct 2016
Wind driven elm leaves
Rattle and clatter down lanes
Forewarning winter
#pnw #fall #october
Fall on the coast
Josiah Israel Jan 2017
by— Josiah Israel

Twas oft the way in days of old,
When knight would battle brave and bold,
The damsels hand in hopes to hold,
Worth more then polished Stone, or Gold
For this is what a boy is told
When day is done and night is cold…

“One day my son, thy chance will come
Though courage oft may waver,
When lady waits, through sable gates
For thee brave lad, to save her!”

For when a dragon stole a maid,
Awaiting ransom duly paid,
Twas bravest knight, armor arrayed  
With noble steed and burnished blade
Rode swiftly to the damsels aid…

“You have not birth of high degree
Yet be thou brave and fight,
For low in rank thy birth may be
Yet heart makes noble knight!”

And after facing beast and foe
The knight with maiden free would go
Away to fields in need of ***
For seeds ere winter need to grow
And none can reap who do not sow…

“Not all you do will win a prize
Of gold or silver bent,
So reap a harvest good in size
And be thee well content.”

And when the battle horn he hears
The knight must banish all his fears
And ride to war, with battle cheers
On maidens cheek alight her tears
Fearing death, she spends the years…

“To win renown in battle
Might also be your path,
May your enemies armor rattle
As they feel your righteous wrath!”

But after kings campaign is done
The knight to home will swiftly run
From dusk through night to rising sun
Till maiden sees her hero come
Heart moving swift, a beating drum
Yes she the prize which first he won!

“Home is best at warring's end
To be with those you cherish,
A place to rest, your wounds to mend
Where love will never perish”

Though all the kingdom knows his name
And minstrels spread the brave knights fame
His love for she, remains the same
And they live happily, Knight and Dame…
I love the medieval Ballad kind of poem. Alfred Lord Tennyson was my inspiration for this style :D
ns Mar 2016
Shake me, rattle me
Take this heart I dearly hold
In an empty vessel of a dark soul I sold

Shake me, rattle me
Do this one thing I propose
As I offer the last symphony to you, I shall compose

Through the darkness, through the night
I whisper wishes to the moonlight
That your shadow, that your light may come to sight

Through the darkness, through the night
A ghost sleeps, it sleeps tight
As humans haunt him in his dreams through the darkness up to daylight

So, shake me, rattle me
Wake me up, wake my poor soul
That of an empty vessel with a heart I dearly hold

And take me away from the darkness, from the night
Wake me up, wake me to the sweet sight of daylight

'Tis be the last symphony for you. I shall.compose
For I am no longer capable of keeping this heart I dearly hold

Through the darkness, through the night
Do this one thing I propose
Take my heart with you for it is now yours to hold

ns
I have finally written a poem after 472891 years. I 'm sorry. This one *****.
Spenser Bennett Jun 2016
I have expanded through one million dimensions and still I remain flat.
Paper walls surrender my paper heart to the words that erase themselves with age.

If there is meaning I find it meaningless unless you got it right in one guess.
Can you feel blood in my lost chest as it circulates? Maybe that's a mistake.

Do dead men tell no tales or maybe they spin them lacking air to rattle through ragged dead lungs still pink yet misunderstood? Dust that settles behind twinkling stars lets me down above this silent neighborhood.

I think we all grow up to be pirates, Y'know the kind that the Pan hates?
Betraying our childhood dreams and aspirations for backgreens and exasperations.

If this ship is sinking I want to be the anchor, watch it all crash down in slow motion, while it buries me at the bottom of your endless ocean.
Tick, tick, tick. The clock have ceased their tocks.

Cover to cover I think I have found another darling. Can this tale continue to spin while the world above changes page by page?
Exploring stories that stand up to the test of time. Peter Pan has always been a fascinating idea to me. Thank you for reading!
patty m Jun 2014
A nightmare whispers in my ear
sidles down, spreading wasp-like wings
as it hisses between pointy teeth
words of chaos and confusion.

Disturbing revelations
whirr, jitter, and chatter as I flinch.
Its consumptive rattle spraying spittle
emits a putrid scent reminiscent of rodent.

Milky blue and innocent eyed
yet dastardly depraved,
the imp reaches out
shivering with excitement,
ignoring my piteous complaint.

Oppressive gray skinned nightmare
barbed prehensile tail
your vicious stinger
breeds monsters.

Failing light
the fallen rain
congers danger
Between bouts of nausea
I watch him ******* breath from mewling infants,
opening plague tombs, unwinding sheets,
and I cringe with the fear of being buried alive.

Clinging to bones, scant hair on a withered head,
I cry burning tears,
my face seamed with scars.
Not dead yet, but powerless to refute him.

Leagues of the dead march by
rank after rank of their numbers
never staggering to an end,  

I try to rise, wheezing , tongue swelled over teeth
eyeballs bulging, as their footsteps grow louder.

Still I dangle chained to this moment
terrified ,
as nightmare rears its head
but even more frightened of dying.
I don’t know who
I’m supposed to be
Who I am
or who they want me to be
The answer’s not
so easy to see
Not well known
There's an uncertainty
Knee-**** answer
is to be
wholly free
I'll explain
in detail
Paint a picture clearly
A tutor's not needed
No need to study
No higher degree
With candor
I’ll speak

Let me tell you about
so-called “un-pleasantries"
The list is quite lengthy
A few;
maybe three
Gonna rattle them off
What's been mentioned to me
Not the worst of mistakes
but a category
May irritate some
To others
‘let be’
Saying that’s who I am
and as such
accept me
A minority group
not the majority
and by far
and by few
They are lost in between

Some say I’m intense
and can be
quite chatty
Loquacious
a talker
‘Verbose’ tendency
Don’t deny what is true
But not always guilty
The day in
and day out
doesn't constantly stream
Not sustained
They can change
Just like who
we will be
Not robots
Not copies
or placed on CD
Live a life
of routine
but not one
on repeat
Even still
I must say
there are worse things to be

Empathetic and kind
I give generously
All I have
My last dime
Will donate
each penny
I'm not searching for credit
Approval don't seek
Like to make others happy
Inside, I’m complete
When I focus on others
No discrepancy
I’m not dwelling
or thinking
of my tendencies
Please don't offer
your pity
or give charity
Try to bend; compromise
don’t perceive me
as weak
I'm the chivalrous type
Will get down
on one knee
Not walled off or closed up
Bare my soul
Give freely
But there's more
locked inside
So when time comes to speak
It’s a flood
a deluge
There's an intensity
Give too much
Give too quick
Try to stop
inside keep
I can bottle
it up
but sometimes
it still peaks
Little may trickle out
Suddenly
it will seep
If an access is given
Explodes
in a heap
When I love
I dive in
You may think I’m a freak
The emotional type
Tug heart strings
and I’ll weep
Not a blubbering fool
my emotions
run deep
A calm hand
I can sooth
Situation-ally
In a crisis
I’m strong
This unfortunately
is something
that I know
But don’t wish on
to speak
Life presents me
two roads
With both closed off
to me
Feel locked up
in a cage
while I look
to be free

A locked door
Here I stand
desperately for the key
Wanting answers
Assistance
A new found decree
Need a mantra
A mission
systemically
affecting systems
The true stem
of what’s me
Fundamental
My core
Sprouting roots from a tree
Happiness from the Sun
or beneath canopy
Not about
getting answers
Away goes the fee
Hamlet asked long ago
If 'to be or not be'
I know that it's different
Just work with me please
My point
is the question
In life, what to seek?
A life
that’s authentic
or society
We conform
and adapt
What they want us to be
If like me
you're unsure
It can drive you crazy
Take a chance?
And be pure
Live a life that's taint free
In return
you'll endure
Side remarks
and critiques
Is the juice worth the squeeze?
Be like them
or unique
Written: September 22, 2108

All rights reserved.
[Anapestic Hexameter Format]
Always which the Human in me surpass
When Trite Reunion comes to much Expect
Between us, Birth-Father, the Heart must last
And configure our Values circumspect
After seeing those skinned neighbours battle
And DAD the Inspiration I preserve
Comes your Striking Counsel; Which I rattle
And reimburse the Love you so deserve
But, if Favour pleads, renew the Bald Man
Whose Birthdate his Arm's Course Affection share
Teach this Tanned Diver; To widen his span
Knowing such Open Hands breed Anywhere.
Circles are Dangerous, if Minds are locked
He needs to KNOW that; From his own Best Hug.
Blargh, (repulsed)
Blue moon, blue moon? (playful calling)
Where are you?
Where have you been?(tender)

Blue moon, blue moon? (loneliness setting in as you gaze out awaiting the train that never arrives)
What have you seen?

Blue moon, blue moon? (heavy hearted)
I've had a dream, (sigh) I've had a dream. (side gaze with a sigh)
A slot of open and a bash of delight. (guileless)

(Sigh)
Oh, blue moon, blue moon? (glum)
Where are you tonight?

I need to leave this area! (fiery rage)
I want to leave this area? (curious)
yes?! (erratic)
To leave this area? (humble bewilderment)
To leave behind the crazed and the immature, the delinquants and the tyranny (assertive)

Such dispair lies within their minds, lost like the foggy winters depth. (anguish)

To wonder, if there will ever be a smile lay upon their ashened faces. (heartened)

The once rosy and pleasant of all chosen places. (sweet blossom enriched with the crisp warmth of mulled wine)

They went and they came, but never accepted, so left behind they became dilapidated. (nonchalant)

Taken by their own obsessions! (dejected)

Like the creaks of the night, they became the howls of the moon. (like cool chills upon the face, the bitter kiss of Jack frost scratching at your door(dead as the night, even the beat of your heart echoes))

Oh, blue moon, Blue moon!? (weep)
Where are you? (nonchalent)

A ponder here sat patiently waiting. (self pity)
Blue moon, Blue moon? (inquisitive)
Why have you left me? (sorrow)
We've been here soo long, so patiently waiting. (tearful)
So far no good, the cries not answered, will there ever be a moment of joy or will they ever be belated. (faded like the mist of the seas, leaving the bitter taste of salt upon the lips)
Mind bending
Ellie Phant Aug 2018
A cat’s purr provokes a precious symbiosis
as cherished old bones rattle
haunches wrapped in warm white velvet
press gently against
my half-broken hummingbird heart
soothing two souls at once
Gary Brocks Aug 2018
I hear the carve of oars,
I see your palms enfold the wood,
as shards of stars shred
a back and glistening wave.

I hear the carve of oars,
the shore is breached,
we reach dank granite stairs, climb
a tower in moon gritty light.

I hear the carve of oars,
you speak, your turgid cheek
blue-steel-gray, your gaze grates,
my salt raged eyes summon waves and stars.

I hear the carve of oars,
waves rattle a candle's flame,
chill the bed frame, the wet stony room ––
the door closes, it scrapes.

I hear the carve of oars,
I know your lurching gate,
the clank as both oar lock’s turn,
you slip the shore,
I hear the carve of oars

Copyright © 2002 Gary Brocks
180928F

They didn't get along
spysgrandson Aug 2018
the green grove a magnet to my eye
on these sun baked plains

I enter the glade to take shade with the cicadas
and vampire mosquitos

then I see it, Eden’s villain, coiled and rattling,
red ready to strike

I raise my staff, I too programmed to survive, do to what millennia
have taught

still we are in this staring standoff—silent save its rattle, deaf
I am to the chorus of insects

neither of us moves for an eternity of seconds, until the snake lunges at my feet

where its fangs find a field mouse, and devour it while I watch, an unwitting witness to expiry other than my own  

I leave the copse, whole, content another creature has, for today, taken my place in the bloodletting
Tom Spencer Dec 2018
clouds race by
like kites with broken strings

trees sway
naked branches rattle

cold wind
stings my ears

you ask why I love
the winter

sycamore leaves tumble
and swirl through the garden

brittle sails
crackling air



Tom Spencer © 2018
Kayla Swails Jul 2018
Can't fathom
The random
Rattle of rain
When I have
So much on my brain
Thinking through all this pain
Waittt

.
I'm not in pain
I'm just trying to rhyme
Sitting in my kitchen
Country listening'
Dandy as a lion
I ain't even lyin
I ain't even cryin
I'm enjoying myself
I'm smilin
How about you?
I hope you are too
Having a good day
Every day
It's the way
To play the game
There ain't no shame
In living easy
In living breezy
Don't take it too seriously
I mean seriously
Life is meant to be enjoyed
Don't matter where you're employed
Whether you listen to Pink Floyd
Or Vance Joy
If you're a girl
If you're a boy
Somewhere in between
Don't matter to me
All I hope
Is that you're dope
Don't do coke
Don't do drugs
Just give hugs
Just give love
And enjoy that life you're livin
That's my advice from my kitchen.
5-4-2017
Tea Dec 2013
I start to answer her question,
She seems taken aback.
I rattle off my list.
“Witty comments,
An easy found laughter…
I like competitiveness
That’s wraps itself around playfulness,
Like I want to wrap myself around
His big found epiphanies.
Symphony of intellectual connecting’s and
Good intuition.
A quick reaction time, helping you step away
Before **** has had time to hit the fan.
Eagerness to help other human beings…
Taking advantages of opportunities instead of people
Charisma that is unselfish in its tendency to be noticed.
Awareness of one’s self.
a knack for insightful observing.”
These a list of things I find attractive
But yes he also has a nice jaw line
It traces lovely underneath a finger tip
But it’s a faraway line on a map
That has eloquently plotted out his most beautiful parts
It’s faded and dim in comparison to the additional obvious existing’s
It is so far from those parts of him I find to be most beautiful
That I hardly understand how out of all of it
That was the only thing you really responded to.
The only part of the map you related enough to
To point to and say I have been there.
Tom Spencer Sep 2018
cloud mountains
rise above the plains

a veil of gray
sweeps the horizon

wind brings
the scent of rain

cars rush past
heading for the city

breathe in deeply
just plowed soil

just mowed field
listen

distant thunder
insect rattle

grass rustling
cars roaring

we live in troubled times
blind unbound

deaf to calm
solicitation

time's relentless
propulsion and hissing

churning pressing
my family is waiting

I turn back to my car
both sated and shaken

reminded to breathe
to see to be filled

even for a moment
to be grateful

that grass and field
soil and wind

and gauzy far-off rain
will defy our clamor

and complaint
and will remain


Tom Spencer © 2018
Chris Slade Dec 2018
I’ve O’D’d on Glucosamine Sulphate, so much I’m mentally scarred.
It’s escalated now I’m 70… I’ve mainlined on my Senior Railcard…
I bow down to the Norse God Voltarol… He eases all my pains…
and there’s Deep Heat, Germaloids, even Anusol for the other stresses and strains.

The wondrous Winter Fuel Allowance! That’s what lights our lamp these dark days - ahh, those twilight hours!
But after the logs, it’s not Leccy or Gas we crave? No! We buy ***** with ours…
the Whisky, Gin, *****, Wine, a drop of Brandy too. It all helps us numb the cold
whilst memories of happier times gone by - brighten up this ****** growing old.

Supplements, sterols, statins, aspirin, beta blockers… All the heart meds - life’s a battle.
In the 60s it was *** and Drugs and Rock ’n’ Roll… Now there’s less *** and a lot more rattle!
****** fails to make it now - “no more”, after the last time - she said!
These days the only thing it does is stop me rolling out of bed!

The bus pass lets me roam the world… from John O’Groats to Land’s End.
But these days I travel locally Southwick, Lancing, Steyning; oh yeh and a cousin in far Gravesend.
Further afield; abroad perhaps? Well no…Back then it was Newhaven for the Continent.
But now I’m over 70, well, it’ll just be Worthing for the INCONTINENT!

And… did I say? Not that I was ever in the habit of measuring it you understand - or straightening out the kinks
I’m pretty sure that these days - and ’no’ it’s NOT just the cold… but, your once adequate **** - it shrinks!

I'm sorry...Your *******! It ain't so long!
First poem I read in public as a poetry ******... It went well enough for me to decide that I would do it again.
HearseTraffic Apr 23
An endless stream of self-eulogies
crashing onto tile,
like bones conceding to concrete.
The whistle of terminal velocity
harmonizing to a death rattle,
a melody for tired ears.
Written in April 2019
In the beginning there was darkness
and within me it does prevail
black are my banners
I have veto to anyone ****

My weaponry is vast
my skills the best
so fearless I go to battle
my marks teeth do rattle

Skilled in many arts
one of the fighter elite
and this creature of justice
can take you off your feet

Fear me if you have the chance
you have little time left
for I am a war Angel
and my trade is death


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
chrissy who Jun 2016
I thought we understood
But I looked up from my books to see
You'd turned the page in our
Relationship
And suddenly I was in a
Sinking ship
And couldn't find the life raft.

I thought you were my everything
But I took a step just to have the
Rug yanked out from under me
Falling
Time was flying when I thought it was
Creeping
And I never got enough.

It seems I took my share of you
You broke my heart like I broke yours
Both sides of the story
Unintentional
But here we are (I am) wondering what would've
Happened
If I'd put up a fight.

Over the past week I've developed a cough
And with most every breath
I can feel my chest shake and
Rattle.
Finally the sounds inside me
Match
The way I've been feeling.
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