Aaron McDaniel Nov 2012
4 Fe(OH)3(s)
Rust
It tears down machines
Break apart metal
Eats progress whole and shits out orange confidence
Another day without Rust is a day deserved

Rusty
Bubbled laughter has overpowered any sadness so strongly
Hearing my name from across a hallway
I could hear it from planets away
I get butterflies when I see him
I shout back RUSTY
A day without Rusty is a day lost.
I challenged myself to write a poem for anyone and everyone of my friends that retweeted a tweet on my twitter. This is one of them.
Hannah May 2015
One might think
I am waiting for my knight
In shining armour, to come on his
Glorious white horse

No, I wait for my knight
With spots of rust on his armour
With weakened metal
With a war horse that limps

I'll ride on his horse
And love him not for his shiny armour
Not for his immaculate horse
Not for his perfection

We each have dark pasts
Riddled with unspeakable mistakes
Mistakes which we wish to eradicate
And we will

I'll love him for his flaws
I'll know every inch of his skin
I'll know his past, his present
And we'll create a future
(Chirstmas Day, 1917)THE FIVE O'CLOCK prairie sunset is a strong man going to sleep after a long day in a cornfield.
  
The red dust of a rusty crimson is fixed with two fingers of lavender. A hook of smoke, a woman's nose in charcoal and ... nothing.
  
The timberline turns in a cover of purple. A grain elevator humps a shoulder. One steel star whisks out a pointed fire. Moonlight comes on the stubble.
  
"Jesus in an Illinois barn early this morning, the baby Jesus ... in flannels ..."
Hannah McC Nov 2012
where are the broken buses,
and buildings torn to shreds?
the rusted metal frames with springs
that used to hold the beds,

that once belonged to children
now grown to full sized men,
and women who have kids their own
of which they need to tend.

where are all the homeless men,
whose clothes are ripped and tattered?
with bushy beards and shitty beers,
whose lives are worn and shattered?

remnants of the lives well spent
that lay beneath the sun
are breaking down to nothing
unlike how it had begun.
Hana Gabrielle Jul 2013
your stories are poetry
and my tired eyes
want your lullaby

you have the power
to allow yourself
to ask for help
to take for granted
to take some time
to take the healing pains off your mind.

Sparkling cracks
in the seam of things
yet things still seem to lack
your beautiful imperfection.
aren't there some questions
still unanswered?
taunting you to fill
those gaps with dependence
on chemicals
on fallen giants
on silly lullabies
like this one that echoes
when you dance through my mind
the absence of light
couldn't be darker
than hurtful intentions
of making me believe
in anything you can give to me
things leave us
blind to the truth.
the truth
that change is constant.
Sydney Victoria Sep 2012
Rusty Gates Close Slowly,
Licking Water's Clear Surface,
A Salt Water Lake,
One Made From Tears,
Another Sleepless Night,
Or One Filled With Nightmares,
Falling Stars Kiss The Atmosphere's Surface,
And Then Rebound Back Into The Dark,
Make A Wish,
Every One Counts,
A Fist Clenched,
Knuckles White,
Lips Soft As Rose Petals,
Pout Permentally,
And Eyes Green As Seaweed,
Are Read As An Open Book,
Medicine Is Out Of Reach When
It Is Most Needed,
And One Little Trip Up,
Will Make Her Go Insane,
And As The Rusty Gates Close Completely,
She Knows They Will Never Open Again
Vyscern May 2016
We all fall apart
At the slightest disturbance
ln Aug 2014
I haven't been able to write,
Because I haven't been feeling right.

I tried to think of something positive,
With the hopes that things will turn out ok
But the moon kept sinking,
And the sun kept rising.

Into the horizon I stared,
Hoping for a spark to appear,
A flame to ignite,
A path to be written

I don't know what I want
I don't know what I need
I don't know who I want
I don't know who I need

I don't know
But it's okay
I don't want to know
I don't need to know

I want to make the most
Out of this very moment.



Now, I feel



*Infinite.
paper boats Sep 2014
A youth
Of love and politics
Wasted on heartbreaks
Because we let the poetry slip through our fingers.
Pills you swallowed
To curb your sanity
Were only candy.
The day I remember
Was only a death
And the birth
Soon forgotten.
life.
Poetic T Feb 2015
Rusty you hide your
Self silently in the woods,
Watching the passing of
Time as nature touches
Upon your body work.

You are from a forgotten
Age of style, now an echo
Of past glories, as your
Tires flat and degraded
Your going no where fast.

A gem in the rough, gold
Worthy of rust, you feel
As this was your graveyard,
But eyes have seen your
Potential, seen beyond the
Surface, beyond your rust.

You will soon ride the road
Once more, you feel the
Air once again flowing over,
The road beneath you, speed
A rush as before, even though
the trailer is coming you can
Smell the tarmac of the road.
Sam Miller Oct 2012
Rusty halos rest on some.
Not their fault, just the result of wear.
Living in the dark and dangerous slums,
Where hope dies and feeds despair.

Not their fault, just the result of wear.
Angels fade and demons grow.
Where hope dies and feeds despair.
Together we face the snow.

Angels fade and demons grow
The angels will fall ill
Together we face the snow
Plotting out the final kill.

The angels will fall ill.
Crushed by their own sins.
Plotting out the final kill
Putting on the victim’s skin.

Crushed by their own sins
Living in the dark and dangerous slums
Putting on the victim’s skin
Rusty halos rest on some
A pantoum I wrote for my poetry study at school.
mark john junor Aug 2014
brokenhearted
but still you took
this rusty nail you call a heart
and slammed into my head

you said you would be a friend to my darkness
you said you would break bread with my rage
so heart beating faster
sweat breaking on brow
still your silent
still your liars book remains unburnt
still your liars house has life
while the twin razors of your eyes stare at me out
of my history
and out of my pain sweet pain
now when you finally did speak
you poured gasoline on my heads fire
and then you ran laughin

it wont be enough to watch a pack
of wild dogs pick your bones clean
their fur matted with your stain
it wont be enough to burn your house to the ground
i'm gonna break its bones in my teeth
i'm gonna eat your world whole
can you feel my teeth on your mind
i'm eating you alive from the inside of your skull

brokenhearted this rusty nail you call
a heart is covered in my innocent blood
your filthy lies dance laughing in my eye
my loins burn to see your house destroyed
to see your filthy book burn

this rusty nail you call a heart
i'm gonna drive it like a jackhammer into your love
like gods eyes on the hand on the wicked
i'm gonna eat your world whole
break its bones with my teeth
with my darkness
with my rage
("gods teeth" is a curse from the elizabethan era)
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