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saige May 2018
velcro wallet
was navy, i think
gray plastic zipper
grandma gave you
i had a locket
it had your picture inside
but you threw it away
because you looked like a rabbit
apparently
hair fluffed, eyes puffy
two teeth and two hours
of squirming on a photo booth

plastic coin pouch
small crayola blue
walmart sticker on a side
but it never made me smile
not like that piggy bank did
yard sale treasure
dinosaur-shaped
no smashing to withdrawl
our tooth fairy dollars and dust
still, you crammed stink bugs
down the long neck's back

now, a denim bag on my bed
rhinestoned one in the closet
and your wallet is
real leather, i think
has superheroes on it
rough and grungy
as the comic books in the attic
or, did you toss those too?

who needs a screwdriver
without a *****?
that's all money was
just hardware we didn't have
much use for
but there is more than one way
to use a tool
so here, i'll paint it straighter
who needs a coffin without a corpse?
especially when we were
so full of life back then
Syv Elena Nov 2018
Garlands
Are flowers
Presents
Are stone
Laughter
Are tears
You
Are ash
One day I'll write a poem celebrating his life. Today is not that day. I'm sorry.
Em MacKenzie Sep 2018
She grabbed my neck, one hand, and her fingers quickly connected,
“You should have some more self respect, you’re taking this further than I expected.”
I swear that I’m eating again,
but I won’t try to pretend,
that the food doesn’t make me hurt, the removal of my organs didn’t mend.
I ask her to forget it and to just talk about the weather,
the topic wants to drop; she won’t let it, she knows I’m not getting any better.
I was always too much of a lost cause to trust I’d ever be repaired,
for years she’s held the gauze and just silently waited and stared.

At 21 my mother died from a long battle with cancer,
I toughed through it to provide comfort I could never allow myself to receive.
So my own sickness was inspired by Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer”
it was never my goal but what my
brain wished to achieve.

I told them all to leave me,
I didn’t expect they would do so,
a few stragglers stayed who wished to prove they were strong.
It’s still shocking that they believed me
or were they waiting for a polite out to go
one that they could argue wasn’t wrong?

And I’d rather break a mirror
than to see the reflection everyone else shared,
it’s not that I would fear her,
but through seven years bad luck I’ve already fared.
I made a choice and a deal
to give my worthless life for just a few good days,
you can’t put a price on how you feel,
you can only hope and pray that that feeling atleast stays.

I became best known through all encounters in every social gathering
as the laid back confident joker, because they never saw me shattering.
I assure you that after I was always in my Honda drowning,
arguing with myself if it was better to be fake than the person always frowning.
I was dying for interaction beyond just meaningless conversation
and only ever met the odd soul to bring that alleviation.
I was so used to the shadows from the comfort of my basement
that I flinched when I saw sunlight and only after felt amazement.

I was a skeptic and untrusting as to why the sun would ever shine on me,
and the refreshing waves that brushed my feet carried potential for drowning.
And just when I got used to light and a natural source of heat
the darkest cloud in history attacked until it did retreat.
Then I thought that drowning in the sea wouldn’t be the worst,
if it didn’t carry me into a current, perhaps it could wash away my curse.
But even the tide will move away when you decide to take that step,
past the point of clenching a fist, every muscle I own did treppe.

Los Camp said the sea was a great place to think about the future,
but I know it’s a great place to think about the one you lack.
Inspired by Los Campesinos! “The Sea is a great place to think about the future” and thinking about things I was too busy and too tired to confront.
King Panda Apr 2016
I’m sorry
I was devouring you
with my eyes
your liturgical eighty-eight
your curves and robes
raising my alter
to this pinnacle of
worship
something holy
to take slowly
into my body
love, I wished
sibling love
not to be mistaken
for religion
for surgical jazz
for something else
love, sister
and my promise—
I won’t go to the pyre
without
you
saige Sep 2018
"This sounds crazy," I warn above the drums. "But this song... It makes me feel like jumping off a cliff."

Like a whip, his bangs nod beside me. "That's 'cause it's not a song," he says, then belts the chorus. "It's an anthem."
And we keep marching on.
Jonathan Moya Jun 19
Icarus’ sister exists only in living stone,
the watchful daughter of the craftsman
in the middle of his own labyrinth,
once his prized creation, placed in
the prime line of his drafts, design, eye
of his genius, now a relic existing
in a dusty nowhere cobweb corner
stained with Minotaur blood,
watching her fleshy father
falteringly stitch wax, feathers, twigs
to a frame that could not
take the water and sun of every day birds,
not even the weight of a son’s pride
who complacently raveled and unraveled
his father’s clew, half hearing  cautions,  
his mind flapping beyond the planets.

She cried over how Daedalus could
dote over such mortal error
while she exists in perfect neglect,
cried a tear turned prayer that
mixed with the dust, the murderous
blood crusting the rusty teeth of Perdix’s saw,
knowing hence  that men **** their best dreams,
fear the successful  flight of  their ideas, and  
that her faith, trust now forever lived with the gods.

Hephaestus heard her and bellowed her mind,
taught her to seek inspiration in the rejected
metal slivers that littered the workshop
like the sand of Naxos where Theseus
left Ariadne in her abandoned dreams.

In the cry of that other lost daughter
she heard the sound of ascent,
saw father and son in erratic flight
and followed to the top of the labyrinth
to watch two glints align in descent
and one splash into the sea.

Graced with the knowledge
that forbearers would
name the waters below for this fool,
she deposited Icarus in their father’s arms,
and flew away on brass wings of her own design,
wingtips skipping waves, seeking the sun.
Delaney Feb 4
the best gift I have ever gotten
was given to me as soon as I was born.
you held me in your arms
and whispered "mine".
I would learn later on
that I was minutes old when I was given
one of the greatest loves
I will ever receive.

-I have the honor of calling you my sister
Steve Page May 1
Tough as a girl
Loud as a boy
Big on dreams
and bigger on joy

Quick with laughter
Slower with spite
Happy to hug
and happy to fight

Short on patience
Longer on play
First up in line
and last to give way

Shorter than me
but not by much
Likely to smile
and not hold a grudge

Sisters as siblings
are harder to bear
Sisters as friends
tend to be rare
I have three.
Sydney V Nov 29
At thirteen,  
my sibling, my supposed partner,
in our disheveled family life  
taught me a different kind of warmth  
that comes from talking back.  
My ebullition  
was matched
with a violence that erupted
like a passionate applause  
for a trombone feature at the end  
of Mahler’s third symphony.  
Only this applause  
ended with  
a cold hand outstretched  
latching, to my wrist
as the other  
bare palm swung,  
into the lobe of my left ear
leaving behind
a warm, feverish  
crimson glow.
I tend to draw my experience from ones that are a bit personal, it's cathartic for me.
Kaylah S Sep 2018
Why do you act as if no one cares,
Like a crumpled piece of paper in the trash.
You have the anger of a bull but no reason for it.
You show me so much hatred yet you expect me to show you my love.
You’ve ruined the meaning of the word sibling to me.
Now it’s like a sour taste in my mouth,
You’ve become that sour taste in my mouth.
I’m in the beginning stages of my poetry, I would love some feedback to see how I can improve or if you liked it❤️
C James Mar 7
"Hide in here."

I shut the shelter,
securing my sister

within the hanging
fabric shells,

shrouding her
in my protection.

The first bomb erupts,
shattering peace into pieces

of cheap glass,
coating the floor

like ice on a bridge. Danger,
bridge freezes before road.

Mom begins to wail,
but the siren signals too late

to escape the collision:
His words—Her heart.

And I will never fear
Sticks and Stones.

Instead, I will fear
Words. Disgustful

syllables strung together
to guillotine my mind.

I wish it had been me
sealed inside the shelter.

"Dad is home."
Feedback always appreciated, whether public or private.
Obadiah Grey Dec 2013
Sphincter factor nine approaches
food for the fish n roaches
methinks its time for me perhaps
to open up the rearward *****.


------------------------------------
AAChoo !!

Oh, liddle sister, Josephine,
you sure don't keep your
nose real clean.
got stalactites
o' pure pea green
my infectious sibling
snot machine.
----------------------------------------
I thought that I might shoot the breeze
with God or Mephistopheles
and ask them please to ease my wheeze
of my bad back and dodgy knees
---------------------------
Croak with the raven
bluff with the crow
the urchin
the field mouse
beneath the hedgerow
in a flurry they scurry
away away go.
Yelp with the *****
howl with the hound
and bay at the moon
till the sun comes around.
------------------------------------------
Gino's bar and grill.

Away, away afore Bacchus
doles out befuddlement
and Morpheus has his way,
lest I awake to find myself
in the company of
sodamistic bedfellows
with buggery in mind.
---------------------------------
Harry Potter has grown a beard
he lives alone and turned out weird.
Dumbledore, Albus, no more
turned his toes and 'ad a snore,
Voldemort, who's *** is taut
has no nose with which to snort.
====================

Ahem !!

Behind two Lilies- sits Rose,
then Daisies
for two and a bit rows.
with Poppy, and *****
Petunia, Primrose.
and Bryony - who gets up
- my nose.
----------------------------------------------
Amen.
God bless the Cows - for beef burgers.
God bless the Pig - for their bacon.
God bless the wife n her sharp knife
for the slice of their **** she's taken.

-------------------------------------------------
We can, no more fetter the sea to the shore
nor the clouds to the sky
or tether the glint
in a lovers eye,
As sure the shore loves the sea
so shall I love thee, together,
together for eternity,

-----------------------------------

It bends for thee
sweet chevin,
the cane thats cleaved
by three,
wilt thou now
sweet chevin
yield, my friend ,
for me.
-------------------------------------------------
There's Marmalade then Marmite
and Jams thats jammed between
the buttered bread of bard-dom
a poets sweet cuisine.
---------------------------------------------
I took up campanology
and fired up my ****.
I rang that bell
to ******* hell
till the busies
came along.
--------------------------------------------
so, I've been whittling away
at a buoyant ****-
fashioned something approximating
a poo canoe-
in it, I intend to
surf the **** tsunami of old age
to-- death;
I have named it Public - Service - Pension.


----------------------------------------------

A surreptitious delightful tryst,
with my honey, my sebaceous cyst.
she's my pimple, my wart,
my gumboil consort.
she's the zip, in which
my *******, got caught.
--------------------------------------
Frayed at the bottoms
ripped at the knee.
baggy and saggy
big enough for three.
faded and jaded
and stained with ***
but I'm due for a new pair--
Yippeeeee!!

---------------------------------------

Ther­e's Cockerel in my ear
and he bills and coo's for you
whenever you are near
goes - **** a doodle doo !!!!!,,,,,,,,

---------------------------------------------

Oh,­ for the snap shut skin
in the blue twang of youth
and to un-crack the spine
on the book of love.
now the gulping years
have flown away
we take sips of the night
and are spoon fed the day.

-----------------------------

Zeus made the Moose to be somewhat obtuse,
a big deer- rather queer- I fear.
then God gave him the nod to look funny and odd
the spitting image of you - my dear !!!

---------------------------------------

Knobbly Nobby.

Nobby has a great big nose
a great big nose has he,
and nobby knows
that his big nose,
is big, as big can be,
nobby has two knobbly knees
two knobbly knees has he,
his knobbly knees,
are as knobely
as knobbly knees can be,
don’t pity dear old nobby
for soon it’s plain to see,
that nobby has a great big ****
as big, as big as three !
now nobbys **** is knobly,
as knobly as a **** can be,
so nose and knee and ****
make three,
and we - are ****- ely.

----------------------------------

The Woman that wouldn't eat meat,
had reeaally, reeaally big feet,
her **** was as big as an hermaphrodite brig
and her **** were as hard as concrete….


--------------------------------

Hearken the clarion call of the crows
afore the snow-
they caw,
hey, get your **** into gear lads-
we gotta feckin go !!!

-----------------------------

Gods pad

I took a peek within
your house
wherein on pew, I spied
a mouse,
and in his hand,
a Bible clasped,
and out his mouth,
a parable rasped,

---------------------

I'd say she had
a pigeon loft in
her eyes and
bluebells up
her nose.

But then again
I wear a flat cap

and stroll through meadows.

----------------------------

Would you care to buy our house?
It's minus Mouse n devoid o' Louse,!
Spiders, Roaches, Bugs or other,
have all been eaten by my brother,
snaffled up n swallowed down
then jus' crapped out a - yellowish brown.
so would you care to buy our house?
from an oddly pair -- devoid of nous

-------------------------

Though the Crows got her eyes
and the Worms got her gut.
comes as no surprise
death can't keep her mouth shut.

-------------------

Bevelled slick edges
and reeaal eeaasy slopes.
Chilli dip wedges
with fresh artichokes.
Wanton loose wenches
and swivel hipped ******
Daft dawgs and dentures
and granddad - who snores.

-------------------

Been whittling away at a buoyant ****
and fashioned something approximating a canoe,
in it, I intend to surf the **** tsunami of old age;
I named it, "Public service pension"

-------------------------------

.
Well,
     I could wax on the wings of a butterfly
but, I ain't that kind o' guy.
rather kick the nuts off ******* squirrels
pluck the wings off - blue assed fly.
I'm the stuff that flops off dog chops
when he's up for it and high.
an infection in your sphincter,
a well
that's jus' run dry.

----------------------------------------------

befeathered­ and bright scarlet
is my ladies bonnet,
jauntily askew and -
lilting on a paramours
grin.

"- Gladlaughffi -"

I'm reliably informed that dear ol' Muma
sported a goatee around his **** sphincter,
now, whilst this is merely educated speculation
from my esteemed friend his "groom of the stool" ! 
who was in fact required to wear a mask,
ear muffs and a blindfold whilst he went about his business,
He did possess reeaaally sensitive fingertips
somewhat akin to a blind man reading brail,,
and, swore blind that said "**** sphincter' spoke him in Arabic
and asked him for a quick trim, (short back and sides)
I myself being a practising proctologist of some repute
am inclined to believe my friend the "groom of the stool"
as I've come recognise -- Arsolian when I hear it !!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------

In a Belfast sink by the plughole
where hair and gum gunk meet
'erman the germ-man  and toe jam
bop the bacillus beat.

________

Doctor this I know as fact
that I have a blocked digestive tract,
I'm all bunged up and cannot go
my trump and pump is - somewhat slow.
I need unction jollop for junction wallop
some sorta lotion to give me motion.
If you could please just ease my wheeze
then I needn't grunt and push and squeeze.

-----------------------------

They are breaking out the thwacking sticks
and sparking Godly clogs
pulling tongues through narrowed lips
at the infidel yankee dogs.

------------------------------------

As a paid up member of the
lumpen bourgeoisie poetry appreciation society
I can confirm without fear of contradiction
that poetry is indeed baggy underwear
with ample ball room, voluminous in the extreme
and takes into account
the need for the free flow of flatulent gassiness
that is the want of a ****** up poet.

-----------------------------------------------

She's a rough hewn Trapezoidal gal
a gongoozler o' the ol' canal.
She's copper bottomed n fly boat Sal.

I'll have thee know that
that there hat
is a magic hat,
it renders me invisible
to the arty intelligentsia
and roots me firmly
in the lumpen proletariat .
-------------------------------------------------------
Said the sneaky Scotsman, Jim Blaik.
if the pension, you wish to partake,
bend over my son, lets get this thing done
and cop for this thick trouser snake !!

I met my uncle Albert,
down at Asda, in aisle three;
he got there in a Mazda,
jus' a smidgen after me,
said he'd traversed Sainsburys,
Tesco Liddle n the Spar,
but not one o' them flogged Caviar
Truffles or Foie gras.


He sidled past the pork pies
streaky bacon turkey thighs
a headin for the french fries
n forsaken knock down buys,
shimmied 'round the ankle biters;
expectant mums to be,
popin pills for bloated ills
in the haberdashery.

Fandango'd o'er the cornflakes
and the spillage in isle four

-----------------

I'm linier and analogue,
a ribbon microphone man
mired in the dust of the monochromatic,
the basement, the attic.

------------------------------

Simple simon met miss Tymon going to the fair,
said simple simon to miss Tymon - "pfhwarr what a luverly pair"
of silken thighs and big brown eyes and scrumptious wobbly bits,
Said simple Simon to miss Tymon---------- shame about you **** !!!

So sad sweet Shirl thought she'd give a whirl to clubbercise n pound

Squat, slightly,
tilt head 45°
and squint.
See the shimmering blurry
dot in the distance?
That, timorous ****,
is ME !
Fast twitching my
narrow white ****
to the pub.

There was a young lady named Sue.
whose ***** and **** was askew,
whilst taking a ****
she'd aim it and miss
and she lifted 'er hat when she blew.


Oh Mon Dieu !!

Obi.
DivineDao May 2016
You were the first poet, who had managed to alter the most famous mysterious smile and transformed it into the language of carefully depicted symbols and blushing words.
Reading the formidable plots of the wandering bullets in your cosmic time lapse thrilling poems makes me swoon every time I focus on the inside story,  like a desperate detective subdued to the retrograde reconstructions, sniffing out the unbelivable alibi for ali-baba, the modern space cadet, who leads me to the secret passages - to long lost treasures.

We were build internally as the same nation brigadeers sharing the alpine tea essence as a pejorative for ~Primavera showing off her newest gossamer in different locations at different nano moments.
               The post stamp you had glued to a white envelope of packed dreams come true, has the curved edges-->untill today and I am sure your saliva was the closest proof of your body next to mine, next to your poetic words. So dear to me!!!
             
 We are old fashioned poets, the virtual paper ******, slightly anxious anarchistic dreamers allured by the crevices of any black hole willing to  slurp and **** in the majority of our most beloved, yet unborn poems. All the 'Torn to pieces' poetic words are long gone, fluxed out through the glittery and deviousely hypnotic tunnels of time and space speed transmisson teleportations.

To our world the rumour has arrived that in the closest sibling~mirrored galaxy lives a lonely guy who looks up at the night skies and searches for the truth. He has black green eyes, green hair and loves Gandalf the grey-grin. He uses binoculars only because his lovely spouse adores to gently take them off ... then reads him a poem or two about the beauty of elves ... those kings and queens living eternally in vigorously vivid and unutterly ineffable woods. Elves are being smart enough to never give an advice to any stranger who has yet to find his integrity and purpose in life.    

Life seems to be a delicous set of intrigues,  paradoxical extremeties, harmonious ideals and wicked irony lessons upon our free will. The man's name was William. He loved her profoundly, without reservations, as a summer's day's Ode.
LOVE YOU
Knit Personality Apr 2018
Care-charmer, Sleep, this night thou hast no power
      To rescue me unto oblivion,
      T'unfetter me from ticks that count the hour
      By magical enchantment, sable Djinn;
For Care, himself to thee a worthy foe,
      Hath been conjoined with Grief in fast alliance,
      And Grief with him hath brought his sibling, Woe:
      They mock us with triumvirate defiance.
Pacted, these fiends assault me in the night,
      The fort where we with Silence once did lie;
      Although hast thou great strength, a threefold might
      O'erpowers it with allied cruelty.
They cruelly stole the day I shared with Glee,
And now they sack the night I've shared with thee.

#
DivineDao Jun 2016
Love's taking the place ~ from sunrise to sunset to the next morning sun arising love. . .*

Reconsider the possibilities:
We could organize a cosy, tasteful
private picnic, exclusively for the two of us.


The world is capable to amuse
Itself without us and at the same
Time it is willing to magically sustain
The soft meadows fully drown in blooms
Intoxicating nectary scents and colourful visages.


You can take me by the hand after the sunlit
Lovely day of making love in the intimate shadows
The ancient trees were blushing with different hues
Of green; such was the intensity of the Sun's lovings ...
Caressing gentle leaves, smooth and elegant were they,
Moved by the naughty breezes, lovely trembling motions.


*My emotions are dedicated to you, my sweet beloved man.
When we watch the Moon in its summer night's glory,
Shining as beautiful as your hearts desires, illuminated
With one love, with Venus and Jupiter travelling across
The velvety arc. There ~ I see the Spica on the horizon!
Sailing on its mystic trajectory among sibling stars,
Flickering wonderfully as fireflies around us, listening
To the murmurs of a nearby brook, inspiring the crickets' songs.
Kara Ashley Jan 7
Dear Brother,

I was struggling.
Anxiety attacks and utter insecurity,
The pit in my stomach was a permanent crater
But I saw you
At recess, standing on the blacktop alone
And I forgot about myself

They told you you couldn’t play football with them.
Your limp was horrible, you didn’t understand the rules exactly
Boys running up to tap me on the arm
Yelling “Get him away from me”
“Tell him to leave me alone”
How am I supposed to tell my brother no one wants to be his friend
No one wants to talk to you Ryan because they can’t understand what you’re saying
They don’t even want to try.

Everyday the school called home, he’s hopeless
Detentions for yelling at the teacher,
The one who didn’t bother to notice he was trying
And he did try too, so hard
So hard he came home calling himself stupid
Because that is all he summed up to at the glories of public highschool

Mom cried, and Dad tried to give her hope
That someday people would treat you right
And I prayed that I wouldn’t keep hearing kids mutter your name in the hallways
Completely unknowing that you were my brother
And all the times your frustration built,
Holes in the wall and broken door frames
I never ever blamed you.

Now we stand side by side at graduation
And I want you to know,
I couldn’t be more proud of us.
Dear brother,
You will always be one of the best things that ever happened to me
Dev Aug 1
I once drew a dinosaur scene on my grandparent's wall.

T-rex and long necks over 30 feet tall.

My raptor looked lonely so I thought I'd draw double.

"Wow. You're going to be in so much trouble."

My sister's comment came with such great surprise.

She didn't stop to see the detail in the Triceratop's eyes.

No compliments or critiques, she just walked on by.

She returned with a smirk and someone by her side.

My feeling of joy was replaced with pure dread.

Like the crayon I had dropped, my face, pure red.

Grandpa picked up the blood colored cylinder

He than showed me how add our family signature.

My grandpa would jest, as I nearly **** my long-johns: 

"You’re never too old to draw with crayons."
Challenge: Write a poem including the line, “You’re never too old to draw with crayons."

For the sake of rhyme, I hope you pronounce it "cra-yons".
Little Peony Sep 2018
to the dearest brother of mine
yes, it's you
one of the three, the dearest
you're the star i've seen since i was a kid
you're the best place i could cling to
you show me how a good boyfriend should treat a girl like me
you're the kind of gentlemen i wish i could found in another guy
and the way you see things differently,

wise
thoughtful
responsible
yet kind

thank you for acting like a father in times of need
but still a child when it comes to the playground

somehow somewhere it hurts me seeing you tie the knots
it makes me feel like "you're not mine anymore"
and i'm not your first responsibility, first priority no more
you're hers, and i'm not the only sister anymore
she's too lucky to have someone like you

things might change between us
you might never wonder about what's happened in my life, no more
but you're still the best brother i ever had
the best sibling ever <3

wish you forever happy!
and i hope you wish it for me too...

thank you for always being there through ups and downs
to the darkest of mine, brokenhearted, even to the love i choose

:D/\:D
CHEERS TO THE GREAT LIFE AHEAD BRO!
i wish my future husband would be someone like you :") the great provider &
a good gentlemen <3
Elisa M Oct 2018
I’m so very sorry
that you had to fight
While I was here praying
for your safety at night
Two people so similar
the same DNA
Yet one had to leave
while the other could stay
I wish I could take on
the pain you went through
As the monsters inside you
so viscously grew
And therefore my brother
I want you to know
I’m sorry it was you
and not me who had to go
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