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To HooverHoover state: waking up to sleep
because that’s all I’m good for;
out of work, out of time again
and my brother won’t spare a dime.
Blanket sweat reminds me of this
Hoover state: waking up to sleep
in depressions of this planet;
the moon weeps for me in daytime.
I yank my pockets out, like it's
my country's flag; punch-line of the
Hoover state: waking up to sleep
in my sagging skin on decline.
I've no penny to my name,
jumping out the window (one
last time) makes me worth more in this
Hoover state: waking up to sleep.
Through an Angel's Eye
Some see the world through rose-colored glasses,
some see it only as bad.
Some see man split into one of three classes,
some see it only as sad.
They say that the eye to the soul is a window,
some find such introspect lame.
Still others may prefer to focus on shadow,
some seek out fortune and fame.
To see the world softly through colors sublime,
requires a heart that is pure.
Yes, to see the world as an angelic rhyme,
the eye must be steady and sure.
Through the eyes of angels she captures our world,
the wonder of God in her lens.
By virtue of her work beauty is unfurled,
earning her many a friend.
Broken Hearts Can Still Keep BeatingHis hands are not like yours.
like lace across glass; a
[a] black galaxy
made a memory of me.
He told me he felt
cast into chaos.
"A distant red dwarf--
A subtle kiss of stardust
felt like a promise
holding the world still
but even that
suddenly seemed made up.
I still don't know you.
RedRed is the blood of life flowing through veins;
Red is the petals of a lover’s rose.
Red is the stripes looping ‘round candy canes;
Red is the polish painted on my toes.
Red is the crab apple eaten by deer;
Red is the velvet of Christmas stockings.
Red is the lantern welcoming new year;
Red is the plumage of cardinal wings.
Red is the blossoms waving from the tree;
Red is the brick wall protecting my home.
Red is the sunrise saluting the sea;
Red is the faded ink on the worn tome.
Red is the color of life, love, and war,
And yet red symbolizes so much more.
Stand StrongI stand in awe at the strong winds blowing
Hurricanes rising and tornadoes growing
Housing blown away and long hair flowing
Killing the crops of this year's sowing.
Stay strong, dear brothers; Strong in disaster
Stout in the winds that blow ever faster
Stay strong for your children, strong for your wives,
To get to the morning you must first traverse the night.
A Poem for LokiRhyming is hard
Just so you know
But for a friend
I'm giving it a go
His name is Loki
From Scotland, of course
Today is his birthday
I heard from a source
Plays Pokemon for fun
and Nuzlockes them too
Though one in particular
Might need a redo
His adventure in Hoenn
Was not quite grand
Many comrades died
Of course, not planned
But in the end he won
With a badass team
Including a Mightyena
Who reigned supreme
Not forgetting Mad6
Who replaced 5 before him
His chances of survival
Were really quite slim
And then there was Boom
Who exploded with glee
Against a troll Milotic
We won't forget thee
Tittypank is next
In the list of honours
ContrariwiseSilly little Alice,
Forget all you thought you knew,
For deep inside your head,
Everything is all askew.
If they tell you that one plus one,
Equals twelve and half, my dear,
Don't worry yourself about it,
For two is so last year.
Don't even try to be different,
Or it'll be "Off with her head!",
And you'll find it's better to live a lie,
Than it is to end up dead.
So heed this socially accepted advice,
Ditch any scraps of your insanity,
To cavort with the Hare in March,
Join the Hatter for a cup of tea.
Fritter your days away,
Dancing under a Cheshire moon,
Don't mind the surrounding chaos,
Ignore impending doom.
But even as you join in
Continuous VoicesIt all began when I was ten
I found what lingered in my head disturbing
And it wasn’t until I grabbed a pen
And saw what truly lingered when I began writing.
There were continuous voices within my head
I was not one to favor them dead
Although, they had violet images attached
The way I wrote them matched.
Since then, the voices have changed
Octaves have risen and lowered
Their words have exchanged
And eventually became uncensored.
These continuous voices have brought war
Ones with an uprising roar
And at moments I want to kill the sound
For they are so profound.
Yet, they continue to crescendo
And welcome me to a hidden story
Aur si plumbUn gând de aur, dar se simte
mai greu ca un pumnal de plumb
ce intră-n coaste, se învârte,
și caută să iasă prin minte...
Stilou de aur, scrie versuri,
dar lasă urme ca de plumb,
pe foi mânjite de cerneală,
și de cafea, și alte resturi...
Un glonţ de aur, dar se simte
mai tandru ca o zi de plumb,
îl pun aici, închid capacul,
și ca un gând, îl scot prin minte.
SandmanSleepwalking in tainted dreams
Falling through its open seams
Caving into unsure grounds
In a dream where fear abounds
Tightrope nerves are torn right through
All the facts become untrue
Screams are muted and lost midway
Still terror exists to my dismay
Faces change the closer I peer
The way I feel becomes unclear
And in the end I know it's fake
The pivotal moment when I awake
But still disturbed and afraid to dream
I wonder if they are at all what they seem
So I close my eyes and there you are
Staring at me looking bizarre
You told me you were there for me
To fight off the frauds valiantly
Trusting you I did what you said
I unmasked the
What may be a dream?Oh, what may be a dream but wishes mute?
Those thoughts that dance and prance a time or two?
The silent longings of the heart set free
To lift the spirit from chambers dark and cold.
A dream is as a morning mist of spring;
Refreshing, light, and gently promising
To all who sleep and wake in time to catch
The welcome peace and glory they behold.
But woe to waking hours; the bitterness they bring
When dreams escape the loving hold of thought!
The plaintive heart starts longing once again
To sink into the realms of possibility.
An AfflictionA bitter, purging wave of syllables
Unspoken chunks of memories and thoughts
Imperfect, raw and utterly sincere
The phonemes splatter hard against your heart
The sudden, wracking, cathartic release
Of vowels, consonants, and emotions
Completely empties your reserves of verse;
Vocabulary drips from nostrils flared
A fragment of dreams clings onto your tongue
Before it's spat on the reflective pit
That dreadful grip begins anew and forces
A dry-heave of clichés and tired words
And though it tears the lining of your soul
This sickness shall continue; never cloyed
Faerie InspirerThere once was a faerie so stunning and fair
With smooth caramel skin, and long, dark, locked hair
She was clever in mind with a deep-rooted soul
A carnal shaped figured; true beauty in whole
She danced in the wind, with her wings at her side
Enchanting onlookers who fell mesmerized
As she flew through the sky, to her home on the moon
Her departure caused many admirers to swoon
They composed complex tunes, and wrote tales of her splendor
And drew detailed depictions, desperate to remember
The faerie’s return saw loud cheers and great art
Each piece revealing a piece of their hearts
They begged her to dance for their eyes once agai
An Aching NeedAn Aching Need
This Kingdom of magic and wonder suits me very well, for I am without want.
I rule absolutely over my ugly subjects, like a puppet-master maneuvering strings.
The sting of want may not exist, but I have an aching desire for the one I hunt.
They are fairly simple , yet very beautiful to me; I NEED them above all other things.
My wiles and trials to win them over have led to a devious act, for which I regret not.
Whisked away through my mystical Labyrinth, her beloved brother sits upon my capable lap.
Though through her luck, and some help, she has made it to me, and ruin she has wrought.
And even though I thought myself
A man such as meHow do you think it would be,
to be like a man such as me?
Copper mane unkempt, unruly, distort,
from showers too long and sleep too short.
Eyes darting erratically, vibrant and blue,
sunken in purple pits, looking blackened and bruised.
A nose, big and red, once hit with a bat,
a maw full of teeth, yellowed, crooked and that.
A beard full and lush, fit for a king,
(one I should trim one evening...)
Betwixt my shoulders lies a beating heart
one which stirs for music, words and art,
one which constantly yearns for intimate love,
but is under command by the grey matter above.
A pair of lungs, tightly restricted by my bulk,
only shallow breath
On AntsWe are as ants. We wander, forever in line with one another, none of us really sure where we are going, or why we should be there,but still we follow endlessly. But sometimes the monotonous pound of all our ignorant, marching feet becomes too much for me, and each step ricochets like a shock wave through my legs, as though the bones themselves were splintering with each toxic step. Sometimes the simplicity of the command, "Stay in the line," becomes more complicated than my mind can bear, and my senses become mixed and mingled until nothing makes sense anymore. At times like this I simply lay on the ground in the middle of the line and dare t
On Love and WarThe tides of tiny ant-like soldiers
Swarm the shores of my soul,
Driving deep their barb-tipped banners,
Claiming my heart as their own.
The thud of a thousand steel-toed boot
Pound upon my heart.
Like a hummingbird's frantic wings,
That ring out in the dark.
Their bombs pour from my open eyes,
And detonate my lungs.
The barbed wire and mustard gas
Cut and poison my tongue.
My silent sobs are sirens, loud,
My gasps, their battle cries.
My tears are shrapnel raining down,
Their searchlights are my sighs.
The invaders press ever on,
destroying all they see.
I swat and stomp and thrash and scream
That they are killing me.
Hiding from HateBeaten with a broken eternity,
scorched by a shattered sun,
haunted by a hushed whisper
that screams to me that you're the one.
Dodging down the darkened alleys,
skipping through the sands of time,
facing down the fire demons
that dare to say you are not mine.
Hiding from the hunting haters,
clinging tightly to your hand,
ducking behind dew-drenched rainbows,
not caring if they reprimand.
Peeking around questionable corners,
dashing across darkened streets,
I will go anywhere on earth
If you will come with me.
Healing DestructionSurrender your soul to the silent sound,
(that is, if you can hear it)
Abandon your body to the pitchless pound,
(assuming you can feel it.)
Loose your lungs in the speechless scream,
(only if you can shout it)
Murder your mind, make it melt away
(if you can manage without it.)
Endanger your eyes to invisible sights,
(unless you can not see it)
and watch the world waste away,
(If you think you can save it.)
forget to remember how much you mean to me.
Electric AngelIf I had a guardian angel, he'd play electric guitar.
He'd sit up in the havens on a tiny, forlorn star,
And play to the world he watches,
And pray for the world he knew,
And since he's my guardian angel,
He'd play one for me to.
The chaotic, moaning, screeching, cry,
Would break open the endless sky,
And shatter all the perfect clouds
With it's immaculate sound.
And they would pour down through the tear,
Every single answered prayer
And every child's wish
That had gotten lost along the trip.
He'd release all the answered prayers,
and sooth all the aching cares.
grant every single wish and fulfill every dream,
and send them
Two O'Clock TechnicolorAt two in the morning,
The night is fluorescent.
I am not quite asleep on the old,
Being lulled by the mechanic rhythm of the dishwasher
and the electric specks of color that the muted television
throws across my eyes as mute politicians
about something I neither care about
nor agree with.
I change the Channel.
The crazy man in his silk suit
He is waving his hands
His blonde hair dangles
around his head.
Perhaps he is an angel.
I change the channel.
The mud is flying
And bullets are whizzing
Seashell SingerSeashell singer
On the shore
Upon the waves
That broke her heart,
And stole from her
The missing part.
The missing one
Who made her whole.
The other piece
To the wretched soul.
The broken street,
Her barren feet,
On forsaken ground
She make a sound
With angry beats.
That spin tales
From another day,
The entire world
Was once her stage.
And wild heart
With which one
Must always part,
Least the world
And with you
They insulted grow.
For if it does,
BailoutThis work of fan fiction contains characters, ideas, situations, and places found in the Hasbro Studios series "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic". No infringement of copyright is implied by this work of satire and parody, and this work is meant as a celebration of the people involved in the creation, development, and production of the series.
Written by The Descendant
Ponyville City Hall Fixture
Sweet Apple Acres Farm and Marina
Dear Mayor Mare,
It was wit' no small amount of disappointment that we received yer' newest letter o' sympathy, madam mayor. While yer' elocution wa
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