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Anais Vionet Sep 2020
I’m in LOVE - drunk love,
look stupid love - and I
expect a harsh trial.

A hurricane is
due - the sky is coldly-gray,
and the wind is fierce.

Tech issues have school
on hold and walking is a
peak-experience.

Then - the blue gray truck
rounds the corner and I’m hit
with Christmas-like joy.

I LOVE shopping,
like a lush loves drink or a
gambler loves risk.

It’s nigh ******.
How can YOU resist it? Please
- tell me your secret??!!

** Amazon trucks are blue gray =]
shopping.. it's a narcotic for prison world
Nylee Jul 2020
Why am I me?
I had a chance
to turn into many
But why did I get
stuck with me
this version,
there are so many bugs
I am always lagging
behind
Often I freeze midway
I am seldom muted
the voice quality
is so mediocre
the display so
unsatisfactory
why this me
?
Anais Vionet Jun 2020
I’m daughtering in place and it’s a full time job.
I'm a posable figurine, like a Barbie for my mom.
She's been shopping in a frenzy, to fill the empty hours.
I think we have an Amazon truck dedicated to our house.
I needed another closet so we took my sister's room
It looks like a Dior outlet-store or maybe King Tut's tomb.
"I think you've gotten carried away," I said to her last night.
Looking at all the loot arranged, she said, "you may be right."
a corona virus isolation poem - with my mom's shopping from boredom
Ekansh Kedia Apr 2020
Pull me up, pull me high;
My arms can't fathom where you are lost in the sky.
You said we're in this together,
you said we'd be Bonny and Clyde;
But at this moment I feel, "I'd be better off not alive".
This avalanche of feelings covered by my snowy smile buries me alive.
Against my snowy smile, it flows without a stop;
like the river Nile.
It flows till it reaches the Amazon of tears,
evaporates from the heat of your heavenly body;
goes up again to be with you.
Ready to precipitate another day.
this little poem is about the struggles a person goes through to be with their loved ones.
cherish the ones around you we're not here for a long time!
Garth Lebowski Aug 2019
The howl of her soul whispers in the wood
And ruffles the feathers of those who fly
Her spirit does carry the buzz of the bees
Even in death – she doesn’t die

Her ground supports the feet beneath me
And buries my fears - long tormenting
Under the soil her treasures lie
A heat so fierce and unrelenting

Like a moth to a flame was i, drawn to her
Burnt and broken, now do I stand
To extinguish a blaze so bright and true
Would be the greatest of sins any man could do

Droplets of sky condensed fall upon me,
To wash away the guilt I hide
Tis I who killed my only mother
Murdered by mans own restless pride

Now I do lie here alone and cold
Doomed to see my grandchildren grow
In a world my own doing foretold
The sight of a forest, they shall never know
Inspired by the trajedy occurring in the amazon at this point in time. May God be with the animals, people and trees who suffer as i write.
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