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RILEY Aug 2013
The blood runs through my veins
Along with the bloodshed;
The vigorous signs my heart used to deliver
In the form of messages passing through my fingers,
And fingers that bend in order to send
Those messages in details I could not comprehend,
Are gone with every bone broken
Back bending beneath buses
******* embezzling banners;
I believe today would be the day I stand out,
I stand out with every outline; the structured harmony of my soul
I stand out with every sound I can compose; the music played by my brains
I stand out with a rush of blood rivering through words, for dry are my veins;
And lines that recount history and history that repeats itself
And selves upon shelves next to staples and pens
And ***** with hens holding hands called humans;
Humans that **** humans,
Humans that save others waiting for the day someone saves them
Humans that **** humans,
Humans that speak the truth, the truth that I found in a misguided princess
Humans that **** humans,
And humans that get killed just because they chose to buy a popsicle stick listening to pop music
Not knowing that the only sound that’s gonna pop
Is the explosions beneath buildings penetrating fortresses built on fake pillars.
The killers,
Pressing buttons to **** generations and creations,
The million situations. Stressed upon hallucinations;
Stations for minds hidden beyond and between internet waves,
That cave upon a lost child who decided to misbehave
Upon an anarchist who took the pledge and determined to conform
Upon a mother who realized her place was in the arms of another man;
Manhandling my personal opinions
You took the power into your hands
Swirled and twirled with blood of women that hurled
Earrings and purled; necklaces.
The lost child of destiny is not scared he is offended;
The hometown of teen aged memories,
And discoveries
Of body parts and surroundings become but a threat;
A dept,
He has to pay, for his "ancestors" decided that tax money is not enough.
He stood there.
Opened the door to a lethal mind
With not so lethal thoughts,
Grabbed a pen and a paper and cried down
What had him tied down
To the knees;
The degrees of love he found
Within a lovers bound,
The sound of bombs
Blocked his vision till he hears no sound
And suddenly it all darkens
And suddenly it all lights;
And suddenly the wheels of everyday labor
Become grim reapers and hospital sweepers;
The girls who thought those guys were keepers,
Couldn't keep their heads attached to their bodies
And their bodies flew along with the flowers they blew-
Off when they were children saying
"with this flower goes my wish
And with this wish I will grow up to be a flower".
The flower that died with no roots,
The roots that were never attached;
In a country that exploded,
In a country that died
In order for them to live.
So let's be Shakespearean and claim immortal on ink that will sink in eyes that'll blink
For the tear drops that will descend burn,
Let us be Shakespearean and live forever
On papers that will never die…
I lost hearts...today, i lose a country...
RhettlvScarlett Aug 2019
Twin ancient pyramids
standing still we are
a mystery to ponder on
aren't we?
Jealousies hunts me though
ancient twin love
I am crazed a human in love
since I first looked at you
and with just one look
thats all it took
Sigh!
I fell madly in love with you
I guess I found a praying saint
poet teacher mine
I dreamed of making
mad passionate love to you too
you were irressistible
sensual carefree with a white
slanted mysterious smile
to die for and ayyy amor
how painful this is!
I imagined you Alien
owned in heart
in another's arms
inside that ancient
perfect key match
heaven's gate
climbing mountains
~~
The rivering watterfalls
on Earth swipped me down
forcefully so
just to drop me back
right into your ocean
reminding me
you were my chronological genius
for me a chronological disaster
I find you everywhere
in poetry in three ptofiles
in mirrors when I write
"I love you" in'm
you are wind acquarius near
and far water in my fire
my starry looking eyes
remained fixed
looking up ******
my giant masked face
in awe of these powers
connecting us in mind in heart
everywhere I look
there is you
and I am safe rich diamonds
are my tears
if only a buyer appeared
my diamonds priceless
bitterseweet luck is mine
such sacred true love
lost and found
to lose it again and again
as in a revolving ugly door
without positive resolution
of two coming into oness
investigating deficits
dividing togederness
unintentional malady
due to undisclosed illness
that cannot be rebutted
feeling rather cursed
abandoned unimportant
mysteriously marked
with time sensitive
for a famed endeavour
to passionately change Earth
And sorry I blocked you
my only friend on Earth
sorry I asked you to unmask
I am only human
most poets won't unmask
they remain covert
how painful
to be fallen down
just to stay pushed
back down again
into the same old pit
no one to give a hand up
from this hell on Earth
a self inflicted in error
unwanted malady.
~~~
Ayyy your bending blue
green eyes bewitched me so
Ayyy ay how painful lover mine beloved not to see them live
except in mirrors photo
Nymph sacred tree Dryad!
How late i understood
that with you I had it all
and lost it all.

But this is Earth
beloved precious
old true love
Theres still Heaven
there's more justice there
in the ballancing skales
meassuring hearts
inner core's true love
in the inside we are twins
and outside so much alike
you smile the smile I smile!
you can't really ever hide
you are me and I am you
our innercores
outer woven countenance
thunderous laughters and all
we are one and the same
twinsouls twin flames
anxient pyramid wonders
never really apart... sigh!
=======
RhettlvScarkett
Copy Rights apply.
revised-8/28/19
and 08-2020
You know who I am
behind this giant mask profile
I know you visit me I thank the Universe divine Holly as you are
and to me you are The Lord sent..
nothing else matters more than being understood believed
accounted for remembered
in a different light.
I was sick
I was so sick
I called you late,
'cause I was burning
And I thought
I might die
And I frightened myself to let you in

Your knock hurt my ears,
But so quiet you thought to knock again
Before you could,
I answered
Because there was fire in me

And you drank the sight of me
Bared to just a tanktop and my underwear
Dark rings under my eyes
Milky skin glowing phosphorescent in the dark
And for a second
I was afraid

That you would think badly of me
And refuse to come in
And say I can't help you

But then you hugged
(like you always do)
With your arms wrapped like a straitjacket
But pulled back in surprise
Because I was giving off so much heat

Then your eyes grew tight and worried
And you picked me up
bridal style

Suddenly my eyes ran
Rivering over my blazing cheeks
I swear the tears evaporated! I swear!
(I don't know what the tears were for
the wanting of you? - for so long you'd forgotten
or the relief? - that I would not die alone
or the pain? - for things I might never see)

And you set me down
Surrendered me to a long, soft floor
Pressed your cool hands to my forehead
And then to my back,

(I fancied they left blue shards of ice
Unmeltable in my white-hot skin
I almost lost my mind with pain)

And then you made the doctor come
(I don't remember this)
But my monsters had already arrived
Creeping through the darkness

I cried out, my voice
Startling you from your methodical
smoothing of my hair

I don't know if I'll make it

Maybe I won't get through this
Maybe this will be the last time
Maybe you'll be my last love
Maybe I'll have my last breath
For Dylan
Onoma May 2017
anything you look at
is a convergence point
of unregistrable perceptions,
rivering.
lightning before thunder,
but don't dare call it:
lightning or thunder, or thundering
lightning, even lightning-thunder.
that which sight has commonized
can never catch it in the act.
of being.
in the: act-act-act...pick one,
and it's already gone--done.
cherry picking is done for us, as
the brain screams ****** ******.
Donall Dempsey Jun 2017
HITHERING AND TITHERING WATERS OF..

Aaw sure she's my own
little Finnegans Wake.

For my little skeowsha
language is lava

the mind is molten
flowing.

She catches tones and hones
in on the last word.

"pleaseyawannanicecupof...TEA?"

She knows how to
stick question marks on

things like
"...sweets?"

The thunder scares her
on Thursday

& becomes
Thundersday.

The flies bother her on Friday...
becomes Flieday.

Not realising  she is
quoting Mr, Joyce

following in his WAKE.

Or she makes up her own

"ONESDAY...TWOSDAY
WEDDINGDAY...FATTERDAY
SOMEDAY!"

She my little trinketotes
my dear ***** Dumpling.

I read her to sleep.
Not a peep

when Anna Livia Plurabelle...
tells her tale.

Beside the tickling waters of.
Beside the chuckling waters of.
Beside the laughing waters of.

She loves
the music of it all.

"Again!"
she agains it!

" Can't hear with the waters of.
The chittering waters of.

Night now.
Tell me, tell me, tell  me elm.

Night night!
Tellmetale of stem or stone.

Beside the rivering waters of..
Hithering tithering waters of.

Night."
Donall Dempsey Oct 2017
HITHERING AND TITHERING WATERS OF..

Ahhh sure she's my own
little Finnegans Wake.

For my little skeowsha
language is lava

the mind is molten
forever flowing.

She catches tones and hones
in on the last word.

"pleaseyawannanicecupof...TEA?"

She knows how to
stick question marks on

the end of things
like: "...sweets?"

The thunder scares her
on Thursday

& becomes
Thundersday.

The flies bother her on Friday...
becomes Flieday.

Not realiasing  she is
quoting Mr, Joyce

following in his WAKE.

Or she makes up her own

"ONESDAY...TWOSDAY
WEDDINGSDAY...FATTERDAY
SOMEDAY!"

She my little trinketoes
my dear ***** Dumpling.

I read her to sleep.
Not a peep

when Anna Livia Plurabelle...
tells her tale.

Beside the tickling waters of.
Beside the chuckling waters of.
Beside the laughing waters of.

She loves
the music of it all.

"Again!"
she agains it!

" Can't hear with the waters of.
The chittering waters of.

Night now.
Tell me, tell me, tell  me elm.

Night night!
Tellmetale of stem or stone.

Beside the rivering waters of.
Hithering tithering waters of.

Night."
Sorcier d'argent Feb 2016
Solely and only upon yonder radiance,
Hovering in awe as it dims,
The moonlight, as it shuts the fireflies,
And the butterflies fade white lo!

Allow me to look,
To fixate my gaze upon thee,
To let my heart stray,
Just for once in all times myriad….

Because I see thee flaring red,
Violet too, as it shimmers,

In which I failed to see,
A star thought fallen,
One that escaped me,
And too, my conscience shaken….

“And how I’d wish to hold you tight,
To have your all mine, just for the night….”

The very strand of your rivering crown,
As it entangles hearts and souls,
One dash too many, leaving damsels frown,
Envious, as all their knights growl….

“The first sight of thee, yonder hair as it flows,
As it compels winter’s first sunrise….”

Grant me entrance,
Paint me audacious, if you will;
To have not a mere peek,
But thy naked soul I seek!

Verily, how I’d wish to stay,
Before yonder glistening complexion,

One elegant, another meekly laced,
Innocence, complexity, and beauty,
Verses, songs, and poetry,
O lovely, how it leaves me entranced!

“Thy very eyes, jewels a pair, the brightest of all.”

And as it brought me deep,
Far under fairly steep,
Sweetly enticing, it tempts,
Lusciously as it draws,

Nearer towards I; O guilty bliss!

As I fell enchanted to its scent,
To its vermillion charm I vent,
How red and velvety!
O how I’d wish to feast upon it!

“I vow to consume it whole, bitter sweet to its very
pith. Thy lips verily, Scarlet’n glossy!”

As I would see the whole of you,
Violet as it engulfs, thy ***** a hand,
And deep onyx as it taints thy stand,
A fair column as it braces; O grassy font!

Fair'n sleek, allow me to quench my thirst within!

"As I would keep you on sight, I'll etch it through. Your very stature, yonder silhouette divine."

As I bid thee fair well,
Eternal in a night myriad....

"My lady in violet,
Tonight, you look gorgeous."
A dishonest, yet verily passionate infatuation.
Garrett Johnson Feb 2019
He stood watching.
From his cool wooden porch.
Groovy as it seemed.
He pays not attention to the half naked girl besides him.
He's quiet.
He lights a smoke.
Blinks his eyes.
He's petrified.
Blinks again.
Looks to the girl.
Gives a light kiss upon her cheek.
He leaves.
Still groovy it seems.
Groovy it is.
Out here.
The beings are calm with ease.
Nothing perfect.
Never perfect.
Nothing, and all to hide.
The fabulous ecstasy glides.
He reaches the beach.
He's stopped.
At the edge he looks down.
reflection inside retrospection.
Inside reflection inside reflection.
Inside reflected reflection.
I would consider that an echo chamber with no sound.
He digs.
He lights a smoke.
Then walks.
I need a new friend.
A shindig around the corner.
Everyone there.
So is the girl.
Break on through she says.
Jeweled lights.
Cloth, and beads.
Waving.
Crying.
Hair hovering.
Feathers.
hands locking.
Rivering through the brain.
Everybody knows yer name.
He's the one to send flowers to all around.
He's you.
Me.
I.
Him.
He lights another smoke, and walks.

Garrett Johnson
Donall Dempsey Oct 2019
HITHERING AND TITHERING WATERS OF..

Aaw sure she's my own
little Finnegans Wake.

For my little skeowsha
language is lava

the mind is molten
flowing.

She catches tones and hones
in on the last word.

"pleaseyawannanicecupof...TEA?"

She knows how to
stick question marks on

things like
"...sweets?"

The thunder scares her
on Thursday

& becomes
Thundersday.

The flies bother her on Friday...
becomes Flieday.

Not realiasing  she is
quoting Mr, Joyce

following in his WAKE.

Or she makes up her own

"ONESDAY...TWOSDAY
WEDDINGDAY...FATTERDAY
SOMEDAY!"

She my little trinketotes
my dear ***** Dumpling.

I read her to sleep.
Not a peep

when Anna Livia Plurabelle...
tells her tale.

Beside the tickling waters of.
Beside the chuckling waters of.
Beside the laughing waters of.

She loves
the music of it all.

"Again!"
she agains it!

" Can't hear with the waters of.
The chittering waters of.

Night now.
Tell me, tell me, tell  me elm.

Night night!
Tellmetale of stem or stone.

Beside the rivering waters of..
Hithering tithering waters of.

Night."
Donall Dempsey Aug 2020
HITHERING AND TITHERING WATERS OF...


Aaw sure she's my own
little Finnegans Wake.

For my little skeowsha
language is lava

the mind is molten
flowing.

She catches tones and home
in on the last word.

"pleaseyawannanicecupof...TEA?"

She knows how to
stick question marks on

things like
"...sweets?"

The thunder scares her
on Thursday

& becomes
Thundersday.

The flies bother her on Friday...
becomes Flieday.

Not realiasing  she is
quoting Mr, Joyce

following in his WAKE.

Or she makes up her own

"ONESDAY...TWOSDAY
WEDDINGDAY...FATTERDAY
SOMEDAY!"

She my little trinketotes
my dear ***** Dumpling.

I read her to sleep.
Not a peep

when Anna Livia Plurabelle...
tells her tale.

Beside the tickling waters of.
Beside the chuckling waters of.
Beside the laughing waters of.

She loves
the music of it all.

"Again!"
she agains it!

" Can't hear with the waters of.
The chittering waters of.

Night now.
Tell me, tell me, tell  me elm.

Night night!
Tellmetale of stem or stone.

Beside the rivering waters of..
Hithering tithering waters of.

Night."

— The End —