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Michael Whatley Poem
Ashen black bricks,
all surround.
Nestled in the darkness,
Night's silent blackened crown.
She owes it all to the light,
the solitary glow.
Screaming out in protest,
draping mist in snow.
In absence of light,
of Sol, Sun, and sight,
nobody would know her,
nor call her "the night".
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2016
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Michael Whatley Poem
Rote an esay
Cheked IT twise
Lot's a' mistakes
Graide not so nice...
I yused comas
Perfetley placed paws
"2 much incoheeseivenes"
I cant, brake up a, claws
Yused fulstops.
not tolong a .sentense
But teecher. was furryous
Marked down with a venjance
Did exclamashons!
Sumtimes .3 @ once!!!!
& YUSED CAPS 2 SHOUT!!
Butt "you ownly need one,!!"
Coalon,
Wen I need 2 maik: lists
Rote my: Faverit, tv shos
But: teecher were: p*ssed
Semicoalons;
Wen, I need 2 look: smart!!
nut shure wat. they do; But
the esay ritings really hard!!!
[93 werds]
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2016
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Michael Whatley Poem
Labyrinth of headache and heartache
Cold steel walls
Surrounding and compounding
Trapped passageways
Constrict and conflict
Navigating carefully
To avoid the hellish realms
Checking my three and my six
But still exist my qualms
The lava burns as my stomach churns
The firey glow awaits regardless of my turn
Finally i've been ensnared
And so I sigh and despair
I was expecting the curse
And so I bid thee
Do thy worst
How naive
How comically foolish!
The embers surge into my eyes
Siring, stinging, burning
Whites falling to red dyes
Pain, needles, drying
I seal it tight and my muscles fight
Tears seep out through impenetrable defences
And again, the blinding light
Locked up lids
But of the needles I cannot rid
Fire, fire, massive torrents of pain
World blurs as fists swing into tiles
Anger, consuming!
Must withhold for a while...
Blinded like a bat
My eyes scream and complain
WHAT IS VISION?!
For all I know is pain
To forgo the hurt and the heck
Please
Tell me i'm near death
The tissue is clutched
Forced into my face
Ahhh, cleansing serenity
The needles, done away
Then I got out of the shower
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2015
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Michael Whatley Poem
The howling wind of which brushes through the trees
Pushes through the green in the volatile breeze
Merciful star of beaming light in which to bask
Overwhelmed, by the bittersweet winter's mask
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2015
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Michael Whatley Poem
Orangey hues sifting through leaves.
Persimmon, peach, pumpkin I believe.
Blackened before the glow, tree branches and ends.
Through crystal panes, the shadows descend.
Scarcely enough to ignite the sky.
Day becoming night, as the Sun bids goodbye.
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2016
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Michael Whatley Poem
Enfolded by pure blue light
Bridging the gap to heaven
Angels' voices carry solace
Distinctly, they resound
The encircling orb drifts
Ever-morphing, ever-changing
Ominously levitates
Lingers atop the badlands
Soapy force-field, of silken woven dreams
Pushing, into the ashen unknown
Splitting shadows
Sullen charcoal black, to a hopeful chrome
Convulsing, the pulsing orb of light
A presence alike no other
Engorging, expanding
Compacting, condensing
Purest o' fluctuations
A heart so tender
So mercifully soft
Exists, within a bulletproof shell
Within it - walking
Dare not to set foot
Dare not to touch
An eternity, shrouded in uncertainty
Cautiously
Drifting through a biohazard...
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2016
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Michael Whatley Poem
Deception >
There really is no escape
From the claws of commercialism
Cyberspace is awash
With colourful consumerism
A sea of flashing red, bleeding twenty point black
Thriving on attention; never off your back
Yes, that is their task - to beg for your clicks
They’ll draw you in with their nasty, crafty tricks
Practices unruly
Misconceiving text
Don’t click on that iPhone
No sir, or you’ll be next...
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2016
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Michael Whatley Poem
Sacrilege o' the air; the now gently weeping sky
Mournful droplets of blue as the clouds began to cry
Leering at the plains; balancing on a leaf
A solitary crow, mocks the frigid ground beneath
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2016
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Michael Whatley Poem
Plight of the Office Worker >
My poor tired eyes
Versus this bright glaring screen
I must continue
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2016
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Michael Whatley Poem
Initialise >
Under that lid
Lies a labyrinth, glistening
Made sturdy by steel
Perched on an alien-like platform
A circuit board, if you will
Weaving in and out of this entangled metal mech
A perplexing network of cables, the forefront of future tech
Where electrons are trapped, stored on an endless grid
They make up the rules, for this systematic procedure
Infinite possibilities, no humanity to hold them back, no morals to forbid
It wizzes and whirs, primes itself during the boot
Archived processes, numbers; everything it must compute
Upon the completion of this Frankenstein operation
For us, it is reduced under our obligation
Copyright © Michael Whatley | Year Posted 2015
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