Requiem for BreadPlay in feature-length/ Our Creation.
Depict the wavering ceremonial flames.
Yet, the shrinking /candles/ snuffed out
and receded back to film - propaganda.
Prior feast deceiving / inquisitor questing
common citizens as shrapnel-blasted minors.
For the first time /they compel you/
to walk - upon the edged bombshells
that drown out their drones of relentless
misinformation - cavalcading the crying
tombstones. Burials within the white oil -
fields -- damning -- the dressed in tradition.
Tell the tale/ tell of living hell - of the land
which no paladin attempts to purify - rectify.
Name said /locked/ to decay for mere scraps
Idiosyncratic IntentionsBorn to homogenized land, to be enslaved by social trend,Idiosyncratic Intentions6 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
to become the prostitute of modernization, vile evisceration.
Penanced to Poinciana and her children – palsied by zealous
elections. Entitled by men of relax n' rest and change o' best.
Killing the child
with our eye-spy
generalized assumptions, again.
We are to un-educate ourselves till bide comes a demure lion
who speaks as dames and relates to the hetero-masculine
decline of testosterone. The murderer of wifely ligaments
and unborn innocent innocence. Yet, as we fall to decease,
in regression, we blame our own idiosyncratic intentions.
As a whole of no-hearts, we d
Aristotle Got It Right"By nature,Aristotle Got It Right5 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
we are all political animals."
I deem this norm-owl, for my ears
listen in earnest dog-mantic predictions
which stretch out pass the fiscal cliff;
like an ELE-infant based upon distance.
Abandoning divinity for Maud-lien attempts
to reduce pressure through oppression - tense;
like a turtle shell. . . coral-lading communes
in prides of prancing ant-elopes.
'Tis his-story acquaint to the oystered-us
in speech, in skill and in pursuits of free. . .
dumb. Chirped from post-poaching sea-sons
hunting up for those who mar-sue, people.
Charlie fox-plot towards the pleasure
mauling - hue-main Hun-duress;
The Ballad For Those Still MournedSail to seam, my apocalyptic dream.The Ballad For Those Still Mourned2 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Move onward to the dilated opium, breathe
in and taste hope in homeland heir.
Be bold - dare to defy finite odes.
Become the soldier, the suit - the armor;
garner of humanity and desolate earth.
Turn tidal-swells of warfare, silently
reprobate the crown, sing of homage, bring
peace with the sound of war burned down.
Sheath the slaying shore,
boast the bounding door.
Articulate the arts of war
and decimate the depths-adore.
Finish the dream, the ode, the chord
of men still mourned.
Satin AshesPurple ashes of spindled satinSatin Ashes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
play with the porcelain gales -
plastered upon the
painted picket boards.
Skipping through the trees
and smiling upon the valleys.
by the canyons moaning throat.
But when the wind blows slow
she will drift away in a coffin boat
all the way to her far off -
Midst the battlefieldMidst the battlefield1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In the midst of an endless forest,
wakes the being that had slept for eternity.
It had wandered asleep,
for years and aeons,
without heart and without purpose.
In the middle of the fight,
a loss is made;
dear friends come and pass.
Hatred and regret is formed,
stays longer than life lasts.
In front of that shell the soldier now stands,
in front of that body without worth.
Bemourning the person that he has lost?
love's realization always comes last.
The Petulant PetalProselyting the petulantThe Petulant Petal4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
petal of paraphrase.
Call him king
and move onward to the morrow.
Nothing else sells
such as sorrow -
Never has value more than Ever
and the risk is all venture in a capital
soul and mind the sinner.
We know the body is but a sloth
and society is but an atom
reflection - eve of Adam.
But do we see the artwork
of the sagacity and artist?
No, we supply the demand of man
and women falter to impress. . .
he who does not impress himself.
There is no reprieve -
from the dawn of another humanized dream.
Mirrors of the UniverseThe purple spots onMirrors of the Universe1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
her arms are from blows of hate
and demeaning words.
Her eyes filled with the
mirrors of the universe.
Her courage, fading.
The candle relates
her tourniquet; a divorce.
Will she drink wine?
Shall she find release
in the bittersweet snowfall
that is broken love?
Neither. Among dust
she will abandon chaos
and find endless peace.
Within the light and
mirrors of the universe;
her friends forever.
Cinerary CruxCritical claims carry cautious concerns .Cinerary Crux10 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Consoling crucial criteria -
collapsed, canned, cocooned.
Creeping casually, crouching constantly -
crucifying caring communities;
caressing children. Carrying cancer.
Cracking counters cascading concepts.
Calling candid candela -
concealing cincture; cinerary crux.
Deamons - Part 1Deamons - Part 1Deamons - Part 17 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Nice is a very nice place indeed, I see why they named it Nice. I wouldn't mind staying here a few more days, some sun would do me nice, but we had work to do. Keenan had been tracing the whole day, which left me alone with Vladislav. I didn't like the guy very much, and neither did he like me. I don't think he liked anyone now that I think about it, I never seen him smile once. He was Russian and was always waring a coat, even in this hot weather he wouldn't take it off. Maybe it reminded him of the cold winters at home, I don't know. Everybody know I hated him, but yet I got teamed up with him time after time.