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Ant Oct 2021
i wrote better when I was depressed
now I sit behind this desk uninspired
wishing pain still filled my brain
that way the scattered brains
from the gun to my head
became the words that you read.
Tim Eichhorn Aug 2020
...Salivating....

...Waiting
For the next
Time

That “they” can sustain
Subtle nuances within
Preconceived notions
Of
Intelligence quotients.

Motions of grandeur,
Like a rambler
That still believes
In a pure
God.
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
Deep answers to deep.
As I answer my self who pays the mort-gage
theoretical spin off ona mobius strip
from who uses war
on reality as art, thus artificial, officially
authorized use for brainless mortal minds
projecting
re- ah, rhea, lovely
-- in the future, to the reader
-- use these mentally any where these signal
¿:-,? something more is needed --
-- answers must follow preceding quest ions
not sparked piezo wise
Brakes. Sparks, , more than enough.
ok
Flint to steel, steel to towers, to antennae to now.

Kapow. we have always imagined radio and TV.

We think in ways Issac Newton never did imagine.

Jiggle the prism dangling from my partner's ear.
Rhea bhering all the gods, and there, errors
began, gin being spiritually essential
to geth to gather sense
signals sortive
suggestive

-yes, whatifery, we have that, how much do you wush?

One more breath.
Why?

Why do you ask?
We have a rule.
No wasted breath. Make every signal clear.

The next idle word we speak won't wo not
be spoken as once is wont for any unrefined term.

Time out. Selah. Take a thought.

- we have no angst, thus no anxious thoughts
- should you be shopping for such,
- those are outlawed here,
- theives honor, liars pledged allegiance-con carne
-
- aye, ai, no-- we as words in warring times make
- peace, no concarne mind heresy, see your self
-
do a little out of body experience imagining
you can do it,
melt into your chair, that
is the easiest position to begin
facing forward and falling with no fear,
until
something unnamed as yet no words may be
in the beginning of beginning your
agreement to be mindful of me,
in your secret you stash, your hidden power
valued in talents, specie solid real esse state being
omygoooooooooo
djasay I may break into song, as I see
where this is headed headed up to see
from below what an *** hat I am, at times
out of body low
low as a JD Sumner solo.

A drunken god declared there is, as in
so be it
wine that makes glad.
so be it
wine that makes glad the core of man-made
in my image, goodness of happiness in any time

One more breath,
Making peace bubbles from silly stories science cons the unknowns to give
attention free trickles from idle words that live for ever, once read
SelinaSharday Aug 2021
Heard some poetry it was such foolery.
Read some poetry.
Such deceptions I see, stumbled on some poetry such poor delivery.
I cant believe how the writer does deceive, like a magician with words to weave.
How one holds some  tricks up their sleeve.
The writer spuns delusions, crazy intriguing lines meant to blow minds.
Nothing but foolery.
Found some poetry! Seemed kinda fun to me, but sit back and watch and see.
The writers quite clumsy. Read some poetry.
Such creative illusions of such wicked delusions.
Because the person is just writing confusions.
Things in their mind
about experiences over time.
when Its best to know both sides of those poetic stories.
Or its just untruths or hurts to what that poet grieves.
Just what that poet sees no where near the truth.
Just telling slippery lines like rotten tooth's.
On their mistakes and there pains and sorrows.
That's nothing of the truth, how they discarded beautiful tomorrows.
Discarding friendships,
That where meant to be only friendships.
Now they are writing darkened daggers.
Such old timely closed minded wanna be swaggers.
Writers cruelty worded daggers.
Some Poets write for Healing, some write for pain, some write for financial gain.
Telling stories, good, bad, sad, foolishness after having gone mad, just ta complain.
No truths in the splattered stains of poetic slains. Its the closed minded, failing in love without you kind. writing to teach the blind, and forgetting leaving wise lessons behind.
Beware of the blind leading the blind poets the assumes, the know its. With hidden motives.
Up their sleeves, writing poetic lined deliveries. Read some poetry not by skilled/knowledged hands I see.
Oh found some poetry. Quite deceptive to me. maybe wounded souls they be.
by selina sharday_H.E.R#POETRY
your a wounded writer telling one side of your darkened truth when it takes both sides to know real reality, yet you write your wounded side of things to ruined the other. Things we readers often see when reading poetry
My Dear Poet Jul 2021
The morse code of my heart
The subtitles under my eyes
The braille on my skin
The love letters in my mind
Know me
Leocardo Reis Jun 2021
All of poetry deserves to be written,
but so few of it deserves to be read.
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