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galio Mar 2016
the sailors called the sirens beautiful
they wept, tearing out their hair
and tossed it into the ocean
turning it into seaweeds.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who then hid themselves in caves, till they passed
their skin growing pale and lifeless
till feathers emerged from their hands.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who decided to mutilate their legs
and scar their feet
so they would no longer be human.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
and the creatures wailed as loud as they could,
screeching noises, ringing
but sounded only like bells to men.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
but they didn't see beauty or sin
instead,
walking vessels
an empty name
and a prize to win.
harpies are described as repulsive half-bird half-human creatures that represented evil. however in early greek mythology, hesiod described them as beautiful winged maidens.
RAO Aug 2018
2 Liters Width this Bottle Neck had her Thirsty when i Pop Off.
"Hes Got a Unique Meter!"

Thinkin outside my Thoughts Manipulate Face hands off my Clock Box a Movie Theater
Soft Drinkin my Equilibriums "DAnkh"...
Hook up The Bracelet of Anubis Call it my I Watch
Achilles Heels turning red and blue takin on a Dog WALK
no roads better to cross Sapphire bird " Call that a Cold ****¡!"
from a "Pacman" in Paris Pans Panning Labyrinths A Mazed running on music like Tha Rock whippin better then jimmy Neutrons Stovetopper
... Style makes Our Classic Modern Eighties cheatah?
UhDDuz(UDDERS+ADIDAS) "GODDARD" "SkyWalker" Call that Harry Potter at the Roboxer smoking bud from jimmy Wonkers GobStoppers.
give that a D +
Oh Gosh *** in CVS / HoMâge/ Po-ca-hon-tas chair gifted like Op-rahs-Hola-no bras vuela-ar tuoi o-Yâ aur-revior no-mas Veteran Indi-En Sit-in on ma stick shift of Mua Cö-Brâ..... engine Knocking sicker then Jehovah with pneumonia
Can we get every Ticket so i can load the Super Bowl Comon!
Makin her Jaw Drop ready to turn Dragon Rude into an tan Dra
Dolph-in ima RAOBAWT fly fishin Santa Cla₩§ Idle Hands Examined n Exposé Gods
lips im here to naturally Lift I'd Volunteer for Slavery if the Hills were rich like Jessica Albas Exposed ***

yo problems in the street
I get hi on Florida Keys You a Hero Touch Down!
Stranger Danger in my End Zone
Lo1
NAME Feb 16
It's funny now.
How if I do something
You always make it about yourself

They compare me to you
Wanting me
Too be more like you.

When you mess up,
No big deal
Because you're the Golden Child.

But me?
Shunned to the side, a dissapointment, a waste.

I'm sorry I can't feed your ego.
That I'm horrible by not catering to your every need.

You blackmail me to get what you want
Spreading lies to all your friends,
That I'm a monster
Deciving
Scheming
Disgusting

I hate that I still love you,
Sis that I hold dear.
i still love you tho
mind stepped outta shell
holding stories gonna tell
a sea on both sides, in I fell
i see both sides, I can't help

might have been just a girl
but sight pulled away from belles
the speed of all tides, it's a world
i feel both sides, I won't quell

blossomed when I couldn't tell
no matter what, my mind sells
seal statements in a well
field all lines, cages melt

i'm fine with not fading in
last I checked, looking for him
they were glad out by the bell
that's all I want for herself

they were glad out by the belle
that's all I want for herself
a sea on both sides, in I fell

i see, both sides I can't help
Salsa Mar 2014
Tossing and turning
in this lonely bed of mine,
my heart is heavy
with the ache of missing you.

I crave your delicate words
like I crave coffee in the morning.

My soul feels vacant
without your lingering presence.

Time is ticking my life away
as my thoughts echo your name.

My eyes bleed out the bitterness
I've latterly felt towards you.

I'm still writing about you
and you haven't read a word.
I couldn't sleep because I missed Fahad so much.
Rebecca Wolohan Jun 2015
His hands are long,
calloused and inviting.
Scars tell stories,
scattered
across his knuckles.

He has one hand cradled in the other,
tapping and rubbing
his palm
with his fingers.

His mind is a jungle:
heavy, sticky, lush,
challenging to navigate,
surrounded by undecayed green
and unobstructed sea.

“Are you anxious?”
His hands are moving rapidly,
yellow parrotbills
flitting in and out of the tall tree trunks
and violet, epiphytic orchids of his mind.

Turning to face me,
he stretches his lips into a smile.
He assures me that he is fine,
but he doesn’t see any birds.
Cné Nov 2017
How strange, the pull that tugs my heart, toward a distant sea.

How haunting are the sound of sea gulls crying eerily.

The allegory still remains, of timeless waves in life

Turning rock to shifting sands, the sea winds, like a knife.

And yet, amidst the turbulence, serenity and love

The struggle of the sea and shore, that fits so like a glove.

The music breaks my heart in two, this ballad by the bay.

And I shall hold it in my soul, this song we used to play.

I still can hear the rollers as they broke upon the beach.

And even though I’ve gone back home, my memory, they reach.
where do mattresses go when they leave your home?
do they hitch a ride back to Oregon
that place that you only pitched as an idea for a funny road trip
but never actualized
instead the map with all the pins of the places you've visited
has become the places you'll go and now it's slanting askew  
because your sense of perception is always a little crooked
do they sit by the curb of a dilapidated 7-11 and watch everyone
give them bedroom eyes
is there such a thing as pining or are we naturally drawn to the new?
something foreign that can be learned with time and patience
but the patience runs out like the water in the bag where that fish you won at the fair came in
and when you got home there was only plastic and the rubbery upside down belly of fish scales in an airless vacuum

do they enter through the window and shimmy under the
other dusty things in the attic?
Do they make themselves at home telling you stories of
everything they've seen and don't you wish that
the guests always stayed longer than you could hope for
but forever is not in your cards, it's not even in the receipts
you horde in the kitchen drawer
forever is stuck under the couch but you never check
because it's easier to just sit and think about it
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
~
Shaking body
Cold acid boiling at my skin
Words branded into my horrid flesh
Putrid bile sloshing inside my stomach
Knife-like stings shooting through my fingertips
Icy cold numbness throughout my limbs
Pigment in my face turning ghostly pale
A hollow pit where my intestines should be
Rapid heartbeats, and quick breathing
Fatigue at the thought of living
Dizzy and disoriented
Lost
~
Wanting to sleep forever
Wanting to wake up from this nightmare
Saige Oct 10
I'm what remains of a broken girl.
Maybe more cracked than broken, but broken none the less.
Shattered glass of a porcelain perfect girl,
My sharp edges ready to slice whoever gets close enough to glue my pieces back together.
I couldn't let anyone see the **** remains of my transparent silhouette.
All that was left of my blown out dandelion,
No one wants to keep the stem of the dandelion after they've let their wishes dance in the wind,
But oh how the stem wishes it could dance.
I'm the one that tried to turn my pain into poetry,
But all that came out of it was a wasted notebook full of torn out pages and the same broken girl.
I'm not fighting it anymore.
Cné Dec 2017
You
You've ...
   got me burning
      my mind's wheels turning
                    no matter how hard
                               i've tried
        i always find myself
    tongue tied
mmm tongue tied
              with yours
           my libido soars
          touching you,
touching me
   You're all
         that i see
             lying naked
                     in my bed
           can't get that image
          out of my head
      kiss me,
touch me,
    feel me,
          want me
               i can still
             smell Your scent
      and all my energy's spent
trying really hard
    not to care
          yet i still feel
Your fingers in my hair
      my hair draped
           over Your face
                       it wasn't
              the time or place
       me on top of You
it was all i could do
to not melt
   from the ecstasy
                         i felt
                         kiss You,
                            touch You
                               feel You,
                         want You.
Sunday morning thoughts
avalon Dec 2017
can you feel yourself dying?  
do you feel the earth as it burns
as it's turning, twisting
and spiraling so violently
the friction sends sparks
into galaxies? can you taste
the life as it's leaving you?
as it's rippling out of your
fingers and snatching the breath
that's knocked out of you?
do you cringe as your edges
are singed by the fire
surrounding you? as the oceans
subside and the planet decides
that erosion's
just your
point of view.
Lewis Hyden Jan 4
Hot seat, fast overturned,
Tossed aside to the
Topiary, stone walls in bars,
Bridge-sickness, weak legs,
The long stride back
To where you can't throw
Tables - hot or otherwise.
I might have had one too many.
Once, when I looked
At “Things Unseen”
I saw Them not
No in-between

For things that They
Said "stood in Light"
Were just as they
Had been to sight

And time and time,
And time again:
No, nothing new,
That had not been…

I felt the Sun
Upon my back,
But couldn’t turn
Away from black

---

But when I turned
(So unforeseen!),
I saw Him there!
And what a scene!

For things that They
Said "stood in Light"
Were just as they
Now were to sight!

Oh, time and time,
And time again,
My eyes had hid
In darkness’ dim…

I'd felt the Sun
Upon my back,
But now I’m turned
Away from black.

.
Harmony Aug 26
Hundred upon hundred of miles traveled
Thousand upon thousand encounters passed
Million upon million of thoughts fled
Numberless are the emotions evoked


Turning around to recount the miles
Failing to remember all those encounters
Losing grip with the reason for those thoughts
Channeling back those weary emotions

Ceasing to ask why I am far from
Seeming encounters were distractions
Searching here in the pool of thoughts
Choosing the ones that bring me home

Heading homeward is also an illusion
When home is where I always AM
Standing in awe of those very illusions
For they entertained elusively buying time
JayceeJellies Apr 2015
It's burning my insides.
Turning around my life.
I'm crying now every night.
Denying that we're right.
Please tell me you need me tonight.
This ****** isn't leaving me anytime.
Cné Dec 2017
“T'was the night before Christmas ...”
and Santa was busy.
The reindeer were antsy
the elves in a tizzy.

The missus was tending
the ovens like mad
And turning out cookies
to make children glad.

The wood chips were flying
the sawdust was thick
The workshop was bulging
with toys from St. Nick.

Contractors from Sega,
Nintendo and Sony
Were working on games
(and a robotic pony).

Iphones and Ipads
(with virus removal)
Were packed in their boxes
and stamped "Elf Approval".

Last minute touches
were added with flair
While elf stylists tended
to Santa's white hair.

Elf tailors were making
some last alterations
To Santa's red coat
and his waist tribulations.

The weather was fair
as the weather-elf stated
The routes were approved
and departure was slated.

Bells had been polished
and harnesses buffed
While repairs were addressed
for the hoofs that were scuffed.

The antlers were festooned
with ribbons and bells
And the reindeer were covered
with elf flying spells.

The clock approached
midnight as Santa was seated.
The countdown began
as the flight crew was greeted.

H-hour neared
and the tension was growing.
Outside it grew cloudy
and then, began snowing.

But Santa just grinned
as the weather-elf winced.
"Don't worry, my friend.  
Our time has commenced."

For the weather was nothing
to Santa's conveyance.
His reindeer and sleigh
were immune to"delay-ance".

With a whirl of his whiskers
and a flick of his wrist
The reindeer were launched
in a flash of white mist.

And I heard him exclaim
through his teleport ray:
"ALERT TSA. Tell 'em
I'm on my WAY!"
CA Guilfoyle May 2015
It must be a tricky business
it lingers, hovers stealthily
an invisible silence
a swift habitation
the soul awaits
to startle the body

In a wordless voice
it moves from room to room
turning lights on
spends a lifetime
ever longing
to be known
and heard.
Joel A Doetsch May 2013
You slowly walk down the avenue of normality
Ignoring the side streets and oddly placed alleys

Change, you feel, is strange and unnerving
You stay straight and narrow, no veering or swerving

You look at us weirdos and our strange machinations
you speed up your pace with much trepidation

You're so busy keeping to the road that's more traveled
that you are completely unaware that it's turning to gravel

You're walking alone, and the road has all but decayed
the streets that you passed up, now bustling highways

Your fear of the odd and peculiar, the offbeat uncommon
has led you to become alone, forlorn, and unwanted

Everyone's different
Everyone's weird

Everyone has secrets that no one will hear

You wanted to be normal, and normal you are
now you're a minority, among the bizarre
Wait, you're completely normal?  ******.
r m b May 2017
It's strange
how childhood felt
like a train ride
that would never stop
like reading a book
with an infinite number of pages

But now you're 19-turning-twenty
and the train has finally
come to a definite stop
the tracks have changed its path
and you've reached the end
the epilogue

It's time to move on
move along and grow up
step off that train
and on to the next adventure
close that book
and start a new chapter

Be brave and brace yourself
for there is more to come
beginnings can be daunting
because it also means
saying goodbye to a life
you've lived and loved.
Note to self.
Happy 20th to me.
hello adulthood I don't want to be here
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