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Esther L Krenzin Jun 2018
(For Eric Killmonger)
A little boy stared in the clouds
Forgotten tales screaming loud
His word small and nothing wrong
It all shattered after too long
Stories of cities that touched the sky
Clans of people untouched by time
Hope soon filled his boyish dreams
But not everything was as it seemed
One night he came home and saw
His father dead, struck down by claw
Weeping over his fathers head
He begged him to stay, not leave him instead
Shattered dreams and shattered hopes
He held the myth achingly close
Alone, no one there to guide
He locked his humanity deep inside
Battling for a way to free them all
Seeking power and in deaths thrall
The world had taken everything away
And all in one single day
So he would take everything away from it
His soul a star no longer lit
Now he lay there quietly dying
His enemy close, no longer fighting
The world it seemed would take him too
His glittering eyes full of rue
There was nothing left for him here
Breathing ragged and full of fear
Finally he took his very last breath
And slipped away as his life left
And as the sun left the sky
The night descended with a sigh
The little boy was dead and gone
His life a sad and weary song.
-Roguesong-
-Esther L. Krenzin-
I loved this Eric in the Black Panther movie, and I felt so bad for him.
His whole life he believed in a dream.
His whole life he believed that he could make a difference, and fight for those who are oppressed.
He just wanted to help.
Esther L Krenzin Jun 2018
A whisper floats into my ear
So soft that I can barely hear
Tearing me apart deep down inside
I just want it to end, and peace to reside
It offers power and darkness to me
How lost I am I just cannot see
Part of me begs to again find the light
But the greed overcomes and darkens my sight
I've lost who I was to fear and hate
And now I'm trapped and think its too late
Tears spring to my eyes as I lift them high
Seeking wisdom and answers that aren't based on lies
The mask fades, the lie I built
To block the pain and heart wrenching guilt
Looking at the cracked reflection of my face
All I see is a failure and a disgrace
A monster that I myself have created
Is now the very person to be hated
The choices spin around in my head
As I stand here now wishing I was dead
Could I give it all up and run away?
Or lose myself to evil and stay?
I let go of the light and embrace the dark
Crushing the old me leaving not a spark
The ember in the ashes eventually dies out
Leaving an empty shell full of doubt
Clutching my weapon I scream
Wishing it all was a dream
But it is real, I am real
And I just want it all to heal
Instead I stand here, taking deep breaths
No friend but my shadow who hasn't yet left
Inside it hurts but outside it sleeps
So I'll stand here again as it silently reaps

-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
I wrote this poem for Kylo Ren, because I feel bad for him. He's gone through so much, and is so conflicted and sad. I wrote this so that I, and others can understand him better.
I hope you liked it.
Peace out,
Roguesong.
Esther L Krenzin Jul 2018
I stand alone, the ghosts of my parents lingering
in my heart
Remembering the death
the change
the upheaval of life how it was
The remains of my soul splinter
and crack
As I remember the terrible deeds that a
desperate girl committed.
~
I, that girl, remember humanity as
it was;
whole
untainted
pure
But the fear and pain overcome and all reason
leaves
Forged into iron and steel that
bleeds tears
~
"It hurts so much," I whispered
"I just want to be whole and normal."
I'd do anything to fix myself
Even if it meant destroying my
humanity
~
I found I was afraid to leave this
world
For in all of its horror and evil
Beauty still existed amidst the pain
And I wanted to live
and laugh
and feel
I wanted to experience
and love
and dream
But it was all ripped away that
fateful night
Lost and destroyed, out of
sight
~
But then a gentle woman appeared
And smiled at me with kind eyes
With the touch of a hand I
was set free
Finally able to just be me
I started to cry from the absence
of pain
And I knew the world for me
would change
A chance to live a life once more
No thought to what came
before
~
I was able to touch
and dance
and fly
Dream
and sing
and touch the sky
I'll start again and my story I'll tell
And proudly wear the scars I earned
well.

-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
(For Ghost, the misunderstood "villain" in Antman and Wasp)
Kael Carlos Jun 2018
Simulan natin sa katapusan nang taon,
Naging dahilan nang araw-araw kong pagbangon,
Naalintana ang palagiang paglamon,
At uminit ang Pasko nang kahapon.

“Napakaganda nang buhok mo”, aking bati,
Para sa minimithi kong binibini,
Pagmamahal mo’y sa akin’y biglaang sumapi,
Noon ko ipinagdarasal na makita kita’ng parati.

Humingi nang payo kung kani-kanino,
Upang manatiling aktibo’t ‘di mablangko,
Bagama’t ang kinauukalan mo’y malayo,
‘Di nagtagal, nagkaroon na din nang “tayo”

Araw-araw magkausap simula noong ikalabing-walo nang Enero,
Nagpatuloy hanggang Pebrero pati Marso,
Kadalasang naiisip kapag nag-iisa sa kwarto,
Hanggang sa eskwela, daanan, lansangan, lungsod, barangay’t baryo.

Naputol man ang ating koneksyon,
Hinding-hindi ka mawawala sa ‘king imahinasyon,
Ipinagbawal man upang turuan nang leksyon,
Sa araw-araw ang pag-ibig mo’y aking binabaon.

Pinaghigpitan man’y iginagalang ko
Ang desisyon at pagmamahal nang mga magulang mo,
Sa ika-dieciocho ka pa daw pwedeng magka-novio,
Nag-atubili, sumagot ako nang “opo”.

Lahat daw nang inaantay at pinaghihirapan,
Ay mayroong napakalaking kahalagahan,
Kahit alinma’y sakit ay aking ginampanan,
Upang sumunod lamang sa natatanging kasunduan.

Kaya nandito ako ngayon,
Na may pagmamahal at may mga pagtitiis na naipon,
Nanabik sa pangako nang kahapon,
Sa pangakong uuwi ka sa iyong selebrasyon,

Ngayong ika-siyam nang Pebrero,
Nais kong malaman mo na pag-ibig ko sayo’y ‘di magbabago,
Nag-intay, nagtiis, nahirapan, ngunit ‘di napagod,
Dahil umaapaw ang pagmamahal mula labas hanggang ubod.
Ika-labingwalo
Apostrophe's Jan 2018
Recently I've noticed
These easternly winds are blowin'
'N there ain't no use in holdin'
On no more... so let it go 'n
find that stoic piece of me
  that finds peace in knowin'
The lowest poet on the totem
  breeds off these heroics
The feast depends upon these moments
However brief at least I know
  the beast in me won't go unnoticed
But until then... I guess it's famine
Rid my life of glitz 'n glam
'N all the hype that never happens
Get it right... the somber dampening
Of moods begins to shift gears...
So lift beers
And give cheers
To the silence of the evening
Blinding sirens creeping
Up the mile-high long ceilings
But liven up
I've said too much
Instead I'll lie here bleeding...
Alive and well,
Well, time will tell
I'll swell abrupt
I'm feeding...
Off all the wrongs
That made me right
This song...pause...(breathing)
Then proceeding, to the next verse
No chorus, just repeating
Of course there's an elephant in the room... and it's stampeding
A forceful tug of it's tusk to adjust
Its just a subtle shoulder shrug
Avoidance of annoyances
A poignant bliss so effortless..ly crafted   off relentlessness
Overtired, restlessness
Just exists
The antithesis... is this the best it gets?
so rest assured
that lessons learned
from this existential messenger
may be best left unheard
Rogue Nov 2017
The blanket of stars draped over the sky
lighting up your path towards another book
Dip your feet into your overflowing ink of acquired wisdom,
Step on the blank first page of your own tome,
and dance your way across the page
Fill every inch
Write every name
Paint every memory
For a moment is all we are
And this moment is yours
the season, in which the bud will finally bloom
A girl you once were,
but now shall be regarded as a blossomed lady

And I will always be by your side
whenever you get tired
of dancing
of writing
of filling the blank paper
whenever your feet swell
whenever you run out of ink
whenever it gets hard to turn the pages,
I will be by your side

Let us turn every page of today into yesterday
For my bestfriend, Jen. Happy 18th birthday! I love you girl.
Crimsyy Apr 2017
You're always colouring yourself
in different hues
and each time, I find
I keep falling inlove with
each shade of you.

In absence
anger screams my love for you
everyday, heart new
In absence,
anger screams my love for you
everyday, strength's debut.

And you know too well
how much I care,
you've seen flowers bloom
when you're there,
and though you're always
colouring me in different hues,
I can't seem to stop loving you.
Dhaye Margaux Feb 2015
There is one thing you must decide-
Do not deny what you now feel
Delay your plans, forget your pride
Don’t push with doubt, just show what’s real
On love’s debut, you cannot hide.
For Take 5 Challenge: Using words decide, deny, delay, doubt, and debut in 5 lines
dj Mar 2014
[PART ONE]
xeroxed, RT'd and plagiarized
so many times on so many blogs
tween blogs to republican blogs
to blogs in Russia and
blogs no one ever scrolls though...
original content is prey
but I have a warning for they:

overrated, over-shared
content aggregators beware
the lines you swap can
rot and ware
the World Wide Web
does not care.

[PART TWO]
original content
original contests
original continent
original controversy
original coordination between strangers
original calvary riding their connection into the battlefield of internet memes; creating nothing and sharing everything

[COMMENTARY]
original nothing, nowhere, nobody except facebook "Funny Vidoes!" & "Cool Quotes!". 'Like' pages whose sole originality lies within their own existence but nothing they share. They steal from the rest of the web and re-post what they find for out-of-the-loop troglodytes; often done so in inferior context and with no perspective. The 'refried beans' phenomenon, I call it. I find it fitting because 'refried beans' are a double misnomer. The name comes from 'frijoles refritos' - which means 'well-fried' not 'refried'. They are also never traditionally fried more than once. Yet the name sticks, it gets repeated, it gets re-shared and now that's what they are: refried beans. This phenomenon is why I believe art and all original content eventually become so over-shared and overrated that it's no longer interesting but irritating. These three parts of the poem "Original Content" are separated in abstract authorial presentation. The author has clearly expressed his dislike for the disjunct un-imagination of the internet and presents it as such.

[PART THREE]
original authors losing control of their audiences who believe they are the creators and the artist's art is somewhat shareable
original miscommunication between web 1.0 and web 2.0 reality
original alphabet they use to type on their keyboards
original grammar they learned in school
original money their gov't printed
original content they re-post
original refried beans
original content
orginal contet
ogrinal cotent
ognal ctt
oc
.
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