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Vivian Apr 2017
I always webcam with CJ on Facebook,
since we actually became friends from there!
Everyday, we'd give each other nice look(s),
and sometimes, funnily even just STARE!

While we were talking today with each other,
it'd been, actually, almost past my dinner time!
I heard a strong call from my Daddy, not Mother,
who screamed being downstairs was a full CRIME!

He yelled at me for answering from upstair(s),
telling me I never follow his strict rule(s)!
I guess there're lots that are actually fair,
but I really still do feel like a fool...

That's why I wanted to die.
This poem's in ABAB form (except for that sad, last line - free verse) and, as most of my other writings, has 100 words.
Jaymisun Kearney Dec 2013
She's there, suddenly noticed, woman from the dream
Above the dance floor, red hair fire falling down around a moonlight face
All others blur in the sea of bodies and burn on the sidelines of tunnel vision as the freckles of stars
Cerulean eyes vacuum the dark within a frame that illuminates and
I'm struck, suddenly pulling a name from ether

Julia,
I whisper*

Gunshot
rings, three drinks in
reach to the rib to feel dress wear for which metal was traded
Gunshot
bartender dead
one stray bullet punctured his head burst through the back and then popped

a fifth of Jameson.

Kick
Punch
Elbow
Motion slicing and justified
Neck
Snap
Disarm
Violent crash when pacified
Autonomy engage,
Bang, bang
Enrage
She
A

Knife

Gunshot
nine times in row
nine suited men dropped still in tow, two more take employees' door
Gunshot
following fast
upstair sprint with empty clip, K.O. with strong arm hefty throw

She leaves safe with escort
Up one more flight to the rooftop
This isn't the first time Julia's run away
This is the first time she's been chased by wanting legs
Who otherwise stood still on the platform watching a present face
Depart when maybe just maybe there was a chance in three words, sure

In three words

Violent crash in memory
Autonomy engage,
Retrace the pain
and follow
dream
A
l
i
g
h
t
Akemi Apr 2013
You gather all this worth
Hoard it underneath
A thinning stretch of pale landscape
Sinking with every birth, retreat

No one visits, no one inhabits

Perpetual grey, another day
The blur between blinding white and black
That frightens all the children away
To upstair attics, ageless rests
Amongst damp death, worn life

What a monumental memory
Keepsakes we cannot relive (relieve)
What a monumental tragedy
Keepsakes we cannot forgive (forget)

We will all shrink
Head or heart or soul
Skin and frail bone
To earth, alone
We will all shrink
Head or heart or soul
Skin and frail bone
To earth, alone

No one visits, no one inhabits
Your memories

What is your memento?
What is your vice?
What keeps you stolen from the sleep at night?
What is your remembrance?
A better, worse time?
What keeps your heart set aside from life?

I know mine, I know mine
Her dead living eyes
11:45pm,  April 10th 2013

Memories, opinions; actions and conscience.

Empty visits to long gone places.

Motivations lost.

I can't be the only one.
Dwelling on mistakes.
Long closed doors.
Rather than those open.
In the here.
The now.

Why am I so gone?
Mark Rubilla May 2010
As the twilight unfold into great colors
The life He sets for us was in gleam
Just like a scene inside the kaleidoscope
We dont totally understand why is it beautiful
We try to search for it via books and wisdom
Yet, none of those material cant explain further

Millions were asking the same question
Each of it, revolves back and forth the wall
Even the mountain stands quietly
Never been exempted to be ask by this subject
All things were bouncing in our motives
But truly if we earnestly seek we shall find it

Individually, touch your heart, this time
Feel the gravity lift you upstair
Where wonderful things were happening
Just stay there, as you close your eyes
Let love that passes through all understanding
Fill up the ambience of the abyss and labyrinth
Vivian Sep 2017
Today I asked my Daddy to buy me shoes,
but then I changed my option of the pair!
He then screamed at me, saying I had bad views.
That had me crying, as I walked slowly upstair(s).

When my Mother heard my sobbing's sniffle(s),
she accused of me at being "just like a baby".
To me, her statement seemed like a riddle,
thinking it meant she thought I was crazy!

As I wept of short breath, slowly to my room,
I started to shake with my pounding heart.
It had me think I was doom(ed),
knowing I was just off the chart...
This sad poem is in ABAB form. It has 100 words, as my other works do too.
Moustafa Hefnawy Aug 2016
A mastodon of grieving age filled the spectacle of times past. A rover of red in a jacket of green, to forward a foreword, the four-letter word; to endow the knight stars in velvet jades. Deeds and tumbleweeds and beetles and trenches; seize the days gone by to build a fortress of hangars. Bogotas and Bugattis creak doors wide shut, halfway there through the thoroughfare. Absolute is obsolete, bear in, child, dear and mild, and a clock goes tick tock. A hissing sore, to kiss and roar, the wild boar steps out the door. Rhythm and rhymes; the ancient mimes of windpipe chimes; whom seek dimes and memorable times. The jades bleak of charades and stepping stone parades, contemplating foals and shoals and riverbed holds. The Moonlight sonata jumps and soars to come back down the upstair, through internal voids of night; whom take home the earnings and yearnings of early morning wars.
vf Feb 2015
i'm completely devoted to falling asleep slowly,
those 3 pm's, laundry mountain on my bed,
dreaming/thinking possibilities and plans
and too tired to have anxiety about to-morrow's
and to-do's.
i drift in and out of consciousness,
the upstair's neighbors' crisp footsteps
thieve me from dreams
but i always settle, and still,
and drift back to my dewy and downy snooze.

— The End —