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Where Shelter Jun 2020
majestic adjectives
of contrary harmonies,
adverbs in adversity
that modify our satisfactions,
gut punch our eyes,
scramble the taste buds,
now inoperable,
incapacitated to distinguish
what is disturbed -
what is sweet -
what is impossible.
my days ending is
nearer to my god than thee,
the crumblings of
what I’ve got left

stale panko crumbs,
here come they in
1000 radium-tipped
projectiles of
serious humorous
self-destruction,
gifted to you!
my few
itinerant followers
peddlers brave enough
to offer shelter,
to follow me
into the deeps of
radioactive incomprehension,
of no particular disorders
a thousand times

bless you
richly, eachly,
name announced, pronounced,
we are all proper nouns.
Kairosclere May 2020
You need a soul to blame,
To put on your causes of adversity.
So let me offer you mine;
I might drown
Under the tedious current
But at least,
You will float.
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

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Thank you for reading <3
AE May 2020
In time,
The swollen heart
Becomes a symbol
Of crossing borders

And when you find the unspoken words
Of your sleepless soul
You’ve found the bordering nation of freedom
That when met against your dreams
Melts into your boundaries
And two become one

And in time,
Your past fades into the seams
Of your reckless ambitions
And your blood pours down towards
your ankles
Preparing you to kick off your feet
And fly towards a future

Where you are found to be free
From your own shackles
and someday you’ll smile
As you look back at what you’ve left behind

And you’ll find
That in time,
You’ll be free from your fears
John Glenn May 2020
War stirs in the west.
The giants in the east
awaken from slumber,
ready to wager.
Up north and down south
the trees burn
as the households await death
to knock on their doors,
unable to breathe.
Speaking of death,
he has taken the icons
and left us with dictators
to further his bidding.
Money has fallen out of value,
with rather a hefty price
at the cost of human life.
Plagued with adversity,
food is short
and the days are long.
Humanity pays
for all its wrongs.
Everything that's been happening so far this year has affected us in so many different ways. Though no matter how dark it all seems to be, there's always light to find at the end of the tunnel. This darkness too, shall pass.
They say great men are forged in flames
so give me fire
give me a raging inferno
give me anything but these
tantalising embers
and smoking coals.
I want to burn.
I want to burn.
Mystic Ink Plus Apr 2020
Being privileged
Many times
We don't realize
That much

At the time of
Adversity
Only hunger is
The innate human drive
And the food
A prayer

Stay human
In unfavorable time
What one can
Best offer
And
Money can't buy
Genre: Observational
Theme: Basic Need || In the background of COVID-19
Note: Served humanity is love. How has the coronavirus affected you?
Mayara Giorno Apr 2020
A righteous man cannot stand for adversity
when his daughters weep for the contrary.

A righteous man should not back away from the dragon or it’s flames
and allow his daughters to be swallowed up in war.

A righteous man
knows no good or bad
          no right or wrong.

He knows of responsibility
He knows of compassion
He knows of understanding
He knows of commitment

My father stands before the dragon.
bcb Mar 2020
they choose to not believe in me. my curiosity heightened, I wonder... will they always? by asking that, it may appear as if my existence solely relies on the convictions from others, but that is not so. to fret now, about the wariness of others, would deter all that I know. let me add that there are many moments I've shared with them. there was warmth. there was clutter. iridescent faces crowded the walls with ***** looks. the air embalmed with rosemary and ashtrays. but there is much they don't understand. they don't know the song of the neon lights. they don't know the thoughts of a clouded mind. they choose to not believe in me. my curiosity heightened, I wonder...are they foolish?

be well,
bcb
bcb Mar 2020
he was the musical man. no one could quite play a tune like him. the pluck of a cello with the flick of his tongue. the trumpets, they roar, with every riddling hum. this musical man knew only to strum, make sounds disappear and come back with a drum. ‘play your last note!’ cried the silencing storm, who stood only to dampen; to live in abhor. the musical man, the brother, the son, said, ‘oh, I’m not done. no, I am not done! for I will play my music until my eyes see the sun!’ so play your music, mr. musical man and watch as the sun comes again and again.

be well,
bcb
bcb Mar 2020
it was late at night
when my guitar string broke
and I didn’t know what to do.
so with a laden sigh
and a tempered joke,
I tried to change my point of view.
I’ll tell you it wasn’t easy,
no instantaneous claim,
but if my guitar string
broke any other day,
I bet I’d be the same.
see, it always hurts to lose a string
make it one or two or three,
but as long as one’s still hanging on,
you can make that guitar sing.

be well,
bcb
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