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ryn Nov 2014
Forget chivalry
Forget familiar nicety
Best tread carefully
I'm not my usual me

I'll not be the hero... Doing good
Simply because I'm in no mood
I'll go about my business
Steer clear, don't be careless

No sweet chirping of birds
Only sarcasm laden words
I'll wear no smile... Only smirks
Behind which may hold sharpened dirks

Don't waltz into my space
Like you know your place
Don't think I won't lash
Don't think I won't be brash

No 'Mister Niceguy'
Just let this day go by
With no alarms, no surprises
No incidents, no clashes

I might be back tomorrow
But today you must know
As I lace my steeltoed boot
Today I don my antihero suit
D Awanis Jul 21
Darling, who ever told you that home is made out of bricks?
Home is whenever your heart feel at ease and be at peace
Home is whenever you go to places and in love with the streets
Home is whenever you listen to the music and jam to its rhythm

This two-story building made out of bricks,
is a place that shouldn't be burden off your shoulders
is a place that should you reminisce in joy instead of grief
is a place that should be a sanctuary rather than asylum

Darling, who ever told you that home is made out of bricks?
Home is whose eyes were jet black with a heartbeat
Home is whose smirks feel like summer in winter days
Home is whose touch melts away even the toughest iceberg

"Well", you said, "this two-story building made out of bricks,
is a place where I hear more yelling than laughter
is a place where my dreams died and buried deep
is a place where I used to shamelessly call as home"
Auroleus Oct 2012
Once not long ago
In the vile state of Utah,
An evil wizard
Impregnated a feral cat with
Mormon seed.
In no time at all,
A litter was born
And all of them died
But one–
Mittens the Kitten.

Mittens grew up with a sense of entitlement
Because the evil wizard filled his head
With the Mormon scriptures.
When Mittens would catch and **** a mouse,
The evil wizard would pet Mittens
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.

In the evenings,
Mittens would enjoy a bowl of warm blood.
Sometimes it would coagulate,
But Mittens loved his blood.
He lapped it up
With a a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.

The evil wizard was a Harvard Business Grad,
And since feline-humanoids were not accepted
At Harvard Business School,
The evil wizard taught Mittens
All that he knew.
Mittens soaked up the knowledge
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.

Some years went by and Mittens
Became a successful business owner.
He would lap up bowls of
Other people's business
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.

Fast forward to the present tense
(My personal favorite tense)
And Mittens is running for president.
He uses his magical smirk to cloak his lies
So that naive voters might believe that
They should vote for this cat.
He smirks and he lies
With a vigor that is borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.
Arke Jul 15
what's the word for finding something
you never even knew you were missing
for meeting someone you have always known
is there a word for the feeling I get when you touch me
where nostalgia, goosebumps, and home collide

you are grey as cumulus nimbus
your rain brings out every color of my rainbow
we will dance under darkened skies
kiss on moonlit lakes and love loudly through looks of ****
slow play, silent smirks, poetry

you are an expert at words
your tongue is gold
soft and smooth
your words touch my veins
so tell me, love, what is the word
for the feeling of infinity
that I see when I look at you?
Sho Victoria Jul 15
If we are in a masquerade party
with no faces,
names,
nor identity

Just words,
and alcohols,
for both of us
to see.

Just soul,
and coffee,
making our spirits
flee.

Would you look at me
without a mask,
with a cover,
inside a flask?

Would you touch me
and dare to drown
inside my smirks,
smile, and ignited frown.

Would you run away from me
to set yourself free?

Or would you let yourself fall,
for a masqueraded soul?
I am just me with a mask to fit with the society.
Some days are sunlit,
clouds whisk smirks and grass collects tear drops.
Some days crash with downpour,
oceans clashing with windy confines,
and I've confirmed I'm fine,
but I'm really not.
Some days are frigid,
snowing in flooded cheeks,
check the numbness pierce through your coating.
Some days are arid,
deserted and alone,
lifeless in barren shells,
as lips ***** and skin burns
we'll never learn to avoid the weather.
Some days are terrifying,
testifying that it's not me,
hearing things that aren't real,
seeing things I can't feel,
it's more than luminous bat eyes and owl hoots tonight,
we're too naive to live,
and some of us can't thrive through this.
Recruiters that lived grew the most damaged,
we managed,
sitting,
swirling our fingers in the sand,
as we watch the ones who
faulted in resilience get eaten
alive by the fear of
Death-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Jane Bell May 29
I’ve never once
Looked for a guy who was charming
Frustrating and
Complicated
All at the same time
But you
Came in to my life and showed me how to
Find what you have
Which is charm that has made me obsessed
Frustrating words that make me think
About death
And complicated ways of showing effection
Yet I feel like I’m winning a game.
.
You smirk with confidence and I love it
You look at me like I’m youre next meal and I feel lucky to be your victim
Eat me up and take me to paradise
Where even there
I know it won’t be perfect but maybe we can
Get a few drinks and talk about getting together again sometime
I fell in love with your frustrating words, charming smirks and complicated emotions.
Even though you told me not to
Shermano Jul 21
Way down here
Where screams are common
The people shiver with cold
Way down here in the darkness below
People listen to the Shaman

Everyone is locked up in a cell
Everyone in his own
Here is a place where they are all alone
The place where evil calls home

In this prison the people cry
For a redeemed to come and save
But so far they only here
The mocking voice of the Shaman
"Soon you'll see your grave"

The people are are locked
Inside despair
As the Shaman laughs
And casts his glare

He chants a few words
And pain arcs through your bone
The Shaman cackles and smirks
As he sits on his dungeon throne
This is the boat we are all stuck in, locked inside a dungeon. This is why we need a hope, a hope that goes beyond earth. Because people will always fail.
Mos Jun 14
The tangible entity of consciousness is fleeting
Scene:
A elegant party but not quite extravagant
Clinking wine glasses echo through transparent walls
Twenty-two hundred lulls over the city like that of a shadow
This isn’t an ungodly hour nor is this a typical night
It starts when She enters in a red gown that elongates her figure
A pianist smirks in the corner — a grin that’s almost sinister
The clinking of wine glasses abruptly stops when its replacement of grim notes fills the glass house
The attendants still seem cheerful
(How peculiar?)
A stranger pulls her into a waltz but his eyes look hauntingly familiar
Unbenounced to her, He too dances with a stranger
Both on separate sides of the glass room
Both dancing with the unknown
Yet each pair seems to recognize some prominent feature
Nostalgic for what has never been
(How do you preserve a memory in reality?)
Through the glass house mirrors sit in obscure angles
One could see that within each reflection He and She were projected into the other room
Each glance towards the mirrors posed no questions
For both pairs seemed identical
Now their lives may have been content in accepting this dance with a “stranger” I suppose
But that was not the plan of this party
For guests grew tired of sipping on Beaujolais and listening to solem tunes
The pianist presented a different song, more lively yet equally eerie
Their feet paced with the new rhythm which called for a spin
(An act as dramatic as such was only proper for the scene)
With a grand gesture She turns, finally seeing the glass barriers
And for the first time that night He and She were face to face
A perfect dilemma to entertain an audience
In a frenzy She tried to speak
“I love you”
“I love you”
“I love you”
But each plea for affection deemed futile
For the grin on His face became that of the pianist
Her emotions were a downward spiral of gray shaded confusion
And with a sinister laugh He (or he) smashed the glass, shredding all source of reality
He was the hallucinogen and She was angry at him for making Her feel
And each guest cheered “bravo” demanding an encore
But this tragedy, dear friends, has come to the end
She’ll never know how the stars look where he is
(Is such a loss truly a loss?)
This poem is for two people
Smirks, chuckles, and evil grins filled the atmosphere,
******* my pure, vibrant, childhood
Into a deep darkened abyss,
My voice is stranded..
My spirit walked away, lost in the shadows...
All I can say without messing up is,
" Hello. "
I would love to say more but
Words is my worst fear.
I may smile in the hearts of athousand men,
But when I take a look in the mirror
I don't picture my reflection,
I visualize that dark filled day in 3rd grade,
Again...
And Again,
And Again...
No one will know about this quiet boy,
Who sits in the classroom..
Who wimply screams...
HELP.
I chose to remain silent.

©MH
Inspirational quote of the day:
Do not be afraid, to speak up. You never know strong your voice will be.
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