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Shofi Ahmed May 2017
The truth isn’t hidden forever
The sun is behind the Moon
it’ll find the bottom of the night
will pick it up upon the rose.

See whose shining
streaming down into a dew?
On the way though maybe
some storms one or two!
John K Trainer May 2014
I Walk through the lonely ancient woods
And hear the voices of Cedars of Lebanon
Whispering a truth known to all
But remembered by few

A felled branch reveals the wound
That smells of comfort and wisdom
Your knots are like the eyes of ***
Scrutinizing my every intentions

I feel at ease as I rest in your strong arms
And think --
If I had a choice for a final resting place
It would be under your majestic feet
Another great scenario of the Universe
that comes over a hundred years;
  once in a lifetime.
So wonderful and beautiful
delusions gone,reality reveals.
a bright glimpse of moonlight
a hidden beauty.
Its such a good thing,the Universe
can wait for a thousand years.
Landon Velasquez May 2014
Punctured are the lungs I've used for breathing
This seething ever-romantic feeling
The peeling of skin that reveals the concealed
And opens up the undying existence of the unseen
As my own existence is also undying and unseen
My mind and ego trying to convince me otherwise
This is my illusion
Intruding my mind and infecting it with disparity
And with no clarity of what is to come
I drown in fear that I will succumb
-Houston Chronicle, 10.1.2018

A robot wandered the mean streets alone
While lighting up and smoking his last transistor
Remembering an IBM long gone
“Buy me a WD-40, mister?”

A ****** thermostat took him to Radio Shack
And talked about some Texas Instruments she knew
A Compaq sent them to a room out back -
“Do ya wanna undo my phillips *****?”

He paid the thermostat some gigabytes

And then…

He was mugged by a relay who put out his lights
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
The Day...
...huff, huff, ...huff
breathe
Not one but many,
downed
twenty-two a numbered set
Push!
break, reset, align...
frost, huff,
Great *** of Light reveals our Glory!
breathing...breathing
Field of pain, torn, exhausted,
sweat, rain, mist, colder
as grass-stained; the warrior's drobe.

Situate,
whistle! -stop!
Realign,
Randint, paired, matched to offset...
feign, move
'Eleven-by-Eleven,' storied beget
tension

Forty-Five!
Eighteen!
Okemah!

Rush...

In the fields herds collide,
as Chaos, Eros, Geron, Adonai,
War portends a losing side?
The cheering throngs cast coronae...


Eleven steers to sacrifice,
go they do to ***.
The ritual structure to suffice,
Violent nature absorbed by sod.


BULL
The origin of football is Sparta. The Game of The Sun. Contact was only allowed when in pursuit of the ball or upon players with ball in hand. You threw the ball at the sun and any player who caught it could run it downfield. All forms of contact to get the ball were allowed including eye-gouging, biting, bone-breaking or even killing. See Justinian's Trogus.
delicatefractal Jun 2011
Collapsing on my bed
    in a fever,
the stitch in my side
as a knife wound
seeking to stay its itch.
My exposed torso
    reveals no such distress.
The ceiling, as always,
  holds no release.
And I'm getting sick
  of hearing my breath.
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