Surviving in this kind of weather,
with a man made from chicken feather
causes me to sometimes wonder,
"Why does that dang fool hear thunder?"
I think we'd be better off instead
if that guy would come home dead.
PART I The Experiment
A person who makes bad decisions
Is it a secret motivation
True naive flexing a muscle only known as misery
I can't find an approach
I can't see the thoughts like doctor sleep
What is a true sacrifice
Does it not know comfort
Does it marry purpose
Ignore common and regular
Who feels like part of a bad decision
And still they sit
Idle in their comfort
To be discarded
labelled bad for my environment
PART II
A powerful shadow
Too at thought
Too ill of peace
I see you my dear hiding in your hell
There was no poison
My sweet love of perceptual chaos
When nothing plus nothing equals something
I will sit under the whispering willow tree
Waiting for substance waiting for the sun
Because it will be the only one left
We can not defeat
Done like dinner
But never defeated
She wanders through the town in the morning light, the firemaker's daughter, with her brilliant eyes. Her hair is wild and blazing red, and her steps are light as she walk, she treads.
She carries the flame magic, her father's gift that bears his name. She keeps the fires burning hot and bold, and her stories are fascinating and never get old.
The firemaker's daughter, with a lovely heart, she gives her warmth, her refined soul. Her excitement is unbounded as she dances in the flames, and her laughter echoes, warm and tidal.
In the blackness of the night, she is a beacon of light, her flames alight, a guiding sight. The firemaker's daughter is a force to be reckoned with. Her spirit was fiery, and her story was unknown.
The fountain pen writes
barely,
the verse...
poet boasts
of poetry.
dictated by so much
effort... !
As if it were only his
the divine, final text...!
There's always blood at the end of the road.
Every step forward is a foothold earned.
Backward tendencies erode our present,
sending the present into general nothingness-
a blissful abode of Ignorance inviting.
Wisdom waits while watching in the wings.
I have written about my dream,
How I was watching a film,
Playing games and make a team,
You will get in my poem.
Life when I was a child,
Time when I was in glad,
Even when I was in sad,
In my writing you will read.
My planning at the table,
Things which I am very capable,
I have arrange them in Google,
Just search them with their tittle.
In the market, place there are substitutes for diverse foods to be ate
Cracker Barrel grits post toastee salmon fish chocolate-covered moose made out of hot dogs and turnip greens and desert frogs and marsh mush taking out of the hollow logs
I
I'm the ground
that you step ...
I'm the sidewalk
that takes you ...
I'm the ladder
that elevates you ...
The bridge that
you cross ...
II
You are the cup,
I'm your coffee ...
You are the dish,
I'm dessert ...
You are the knife that cuts me,
I feed you, I'm a spoon ...
I am your servant,
you are my queen,
I am your man,
you are not my woman ...!
I see me in every little scared child
Littler than even the smallest of her peers
Voiceless outside, screaming inside
Taking solace in a closed space with a dozen imagined friends
I see me in every defiant teenager
Beautiful, smart yet full of lies and seductive tricks
She knows no better
The awed uncles are just wolves waiting to tear her apart
I see me in a distressed youth
Unwanted baby in hand, no man to pat her back
Now she knows better
A smile too many leads down a dark path to disruption
I see me now a woman with a vantage view
Able to sift the shaft out and tell rubies from ruffles
Through pain strength is born
Robe cladding, teeth shining, accolades shimmering, claps roaring
Life
lives on balance
between hope and
the despair...
Between love
and the disappointment ...
Life lives constantly
trampoline of each of us ...
Time is constant too
to mark facts and to scratch
calendars ...
Here is the summary of everything:
or pulsating love,
or hemlock ...
Or love in its entirety,
or nothing...
Because life without love
it's not life
it's simulacrum ...!
I don't remember everything the most regret
i will not change who am I open up to you
I have found not happiness but joy by you
I will never forget when I took the first sip of beer
You are always in my thoughts and dream
You know that I am breathing fine in drowning
You don't know what else to do confess of my love
Your mind being constrained some moments
The mind is a machine need the mechanism
The countless reason to love you ever
The things have no meaning wrapped up in the mind
The truth we were never friends.....
What is the summary of these two poems : "on the memory of mr edward king, drowned in the irish seas by john cleveland, mark anthony;"when as the nightingale chanted her vespers dirge" by james shirley. Please I need feedback on these two poems.
Summary of My First Day of Spring
or Shortest Poem I Ever Wrote
Think More Time I Should Devote?
First day of spring did start ensuing;
Now many new things had to be doing;
Took shower after body took a beating
And ended up in Landscape Meeting.
That is how it was and what happened.
Used category of bereavement for my
body and Spring for the rest of it.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
PROLOG.....
Love and deception: one must understand that love and Deception
are the two most meaningless words' in the dictionary if used in-
correctly. Love is indestructible and secure in itself. The latter is
lust rooted in deceit, yet, clothed in the name of love and has changed
its' attire through out the Centuries'. One has never done in the name of
love because love has only produced everlasting immortality in the wake
of utter damnation. Deceit has covered many of circumstance of war and
destroyed many a civilization.
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