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Official DUP NAPOWRIMO (National Poetry Writing Month)

poet
PsycoticMastermind
Thought Provoker
United States
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Forum Posts: 146

18/30


I Know What You Did

And I know exactly where
the bodies are hid;

buried in shallow graves
upon your conscience

because you couldn't be bothered
to get your hands dirty playing
the role of the bad guy

She died of a drug overdose

He died from rampant alcoholism

True, you weren't responsible for
the addictions that culminated
in their eventual demise

No one asked you to save them
from themselves

You only expedited their exits
with your strategy of ignoring
the self destruction occurring
under your very nose

The real question
that begs to be asked is,
Do you know what you didn't do?

You may have been a
pall bearer at the funerals
loading caskets into the hearse
and lowering them into the ground
but

you did not lift a finger to help them
when it mattered the most

when they needed someone

anyone

to say, Enough.



poet
Magnetron
Thought Provoker
United States
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Forum Posts: 366

18/30


I've Got Big Balls

No one really wins at bowling
as pins are going everywhere
knocked off their feet
when just standing there
minding their own business

How easily
they all fall down
and rather conveniently given that
the odds are stacked against them
as a giant ball is lobbed
in their direction

Choose your angle

Put your own spin on it

The damage is as good as done

You perfect your strategy
and meticulously keep score
even though you are the
only person in the alley

The real challenge
or should I say fun?
begins when someone with balls
comes along and does
exactly what you are doing

but does it better than you

and beats you at your own game


poet
Josh
Fire of Insight
Portugal
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Forum Posts: 110

NaPoWriMo 18/30 for April 18th, 2017
Villanelle No: 18


A FREEDOM IN COMMITMENT

Harried by a surplus gifting wrung from heaven's estate
pouring on a paper spilling ink with budding flowers
put my feet together firmly, dived into the lake

Daily smiled exchanges merely spout a give-and-take
others offer greater riches tapping higher powers
harried by a surplus gifting wrung from heaven's estate

Balanced on a tight-rope yearning knowing true from fake
stood behind my lined defences Ďfraid Iíd get devoured
put my feet together firmly, dived into the lake

Swimming as the killer-whales were shaking me awake
clocking time is rocking mine and indicates the hour
harried by a surplus gifting wrung from heaven's estate

Charging through my body cells there shoots a dormant ache
pushed me pointing, spirits waiting, mixing sweet ní sour
put my feet together firmly, dived into the lake

Standing on the edge of freedom sensing whatís at stake
recognising sacred ground I build a better bower
harried by a surplus gifting wrung from heaven's estate
I put my feet together firmly, dive into the lake.

poet
whale
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Forum Posts: 227

His village was by the river
When the big rain came
The river rose and washed
His village away

Ke Ba Lai felt his heart torn out
and the sun hid behind the dark clouds

A month later the British
Came on their boats
Finding no village they carried on
Up the river

Ke Ba Lai saw in this god's blessing
as a high noon sun that cast no shadow

It was thirty-nine years
Before more Englishman came
His people were prepared
And they killed them all easily

Bai Ke Ba Lai was both cunning and brave
and gave thanks as the sun was rising

Forty years after the flood
Again big rains came
And the river rose washing
His town away

and Ke Ba Lai accepted only god sees all
and he prayed as the sun was setting

As he hid in the marshes
The British found him
They tried him and exiled him
Faraway in Cape Castle

but Ke Ba Lai saw that God was merciful
for the high sun had cast no shadow

Then one day they came
Took him on a boat
Back home and crowned him
Bai which means king

for what god made only god may judge
For the grace of his sunlight blesses all

poet
DaisyGrace
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 29th Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 64

coffee with cream

i let myself
swirl into you like
warm cream blooms
in black coffee
becoming the perfect
flavor

we laugh and sip
and touch

more than
lovers
more than a caffeinated
affair

savor us between
long lash blinks
and crooked smiles
hold us in my
cold hands
warm places that i didnít
know were chilled

andÖ

i know me
and my addictive
nature
without a fix i get
shaky
iíll declare it a weakness
and try to quit
cold turkey

but i donít want to
this time
so i wonít

coffee with  cream
is too
delicious
to ever
stop

*****
for day 17

poet
DaisyGrace
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 29th Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 64

dear people who think you know,

i was only kidding when i said
itís fine.


you tripped over your words,
gushing about a perfect
spelling test.
kindergarteners spelling
two syllable words!

(sometimes it is the smallest things,
and my eyes do that
donít cry for goodness sake
blink.)

i gave you a tired smile
and a
thatís great.
but you noticed,
kept tripping over
your words.

back pedaling to say:
oh he will catch up!
all kids learn.
different paces.
donít worry.

another tired smile:
itís fine.  


****
for day 18. i think i'm caught up. dear baby jesus let me be caught up!

poet
Ahavati
Guardian of Shadows
United States
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Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 1006

DaisyGrace said:

****
for day 18. i think i'm caught up. dear baby jesus let me be caught up!


You are now!

☕ Coffee time! Make mine creamy & dreamy!

poet
Anarchitect
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 21st Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 75

18/30


The Devil Is In The Details

Can't say I wasn't warned

Mess with the Devil
and you'll get horned

Adding injury to my insult
His head was adorned
with a thorned crown

If I was smart
I would have backed down
Instead I got in his face

all up in his business
corporate affairs involving
soul acquisitions and
eternal rest homes
such lucrative industries

Said, Satan!
I demand you give me
back my parking space
And while we're on the subject
quit acting like you own
this forsaken place


And now he's got me
at the Ninth Gate of Hell
tending the tollbooth

Didn't really think things through as usual
as if you couldn't already tell
by where I ended up
but that's the god's honest truth



poet
RevolutionAL
vibididibbidydibbidyho
Fire of Insight
South Africa
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Joined 24th July 2012
Forum Posts: 682



A Year Ago Today


When under blankets
on the bed
I lay
dreaming of my
funeral day
Writing tripe for
speakers
to say

Thinking ways
to blast my head away
Seeing life in negatives
photographs lacking sway
black and whites
covered in fodder and hay
I was lost
with a sign on my head
reading "Just go away"

Look at it now
it's all Joy on a tray
Oh just look at the
happiness of today
Every second is a smile
and whistle
I just can't wait for the
fifth
of May

[☆]


This is the 19th day!

poet
Viddax
Lord Viddax
Guardian of Shadows
United Kingdom
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Joined 10th Oct 2009
Forum Posts: 5535

Enhancing depths


Though your poetry may have turned to ash
even in those remnants
it still retains an overwhelming atmosphere,
even the smoke has substance;

outer planes and worlds
of deeper, darker, experience
are shown through the smoulder.

I pine for each new mould
that I may witness
each enchanting sight

Everywhere, all around,
depth and description is given
by unfolding flowing panoramas

Passion that fosters
my intimated appetite,
satiated zest

I inhale the quasi fumes in my face
blown to me by the winds
of yesterday
dropped onto
by the dreams of the past
that have been

favoured by the muse
embodying sensation
will you vent today
if favoured?

or are you living elsewhere
experience at the forefront?

Another candle
sat in the darkness
more than just to bring crimson light.

(Day 19, Entry 18, Submitted GMT 00:04 on the 19th)

poet
mel44
Thought Provoker
United Kingdom
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Joined 3rd Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 144

Transformation

Adaptation
Sometimes
Not adorning light
Muddled
Shadowed
Grief upon invite

Agony
Distress
Unflavoured tone
Wishing
Remaining
Inside the known

Burdened
Fearful
Silent numbing
Carrying
Unbalanced
Before becoming

Insecure
Exposed
Outwardly broken

Then

Emerging
Pursuant
Slumbered spirit woken

Uprooting
Tackling
Thorns from begin
Confronting
Countering
Demons of within

Responding
Awaiting
Changes set free
Splendid
Insightful
Marvellously thee

poet
Ahavati
Guardian of Shadows
United States
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Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 1006

MadameLavender said:
April 18óPunt

Shoulda, coulda, wouldaÖ

But at least I hit the fifty
word count, for todayís
entry in NaPo,
and letís hope for something
better, tomorrow.




poet
David_Macleod
Tyrant of Words
United Kingdom
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Joined 5th Nov 2014
Forum Posts: 280

People

Frankly my social peeve is people
A wandering clamour of inept morons
An ignorant shower of hate filled maniacs
Ill mannered wastes of redundant skin
Brainless to the point of being swamp life
The only redeeming thing is your ability to die
For my liking not in the numbers or quickly enough
I am accused of being a cantankerous old bastard
But it is clearly you and not me, Iím just great
Loving, caring, witty, fertile, pleasant and modest
Unlike the cum gurgling fuckwits of my species
I have never met another human being that hasnít
Eventually fucked me over and left me to bleed
Humanity does not deserve a God to save it
Humanity is a bucket of shite without the bucket
Itís a filthy disease, hopefully there is no cure
I even find your children just fuckin annoying
I hate you and them, simpering piles of flesh
My hope is that mankind does what it does best
I hope you all die, leaving only me
There is no saving you and yours
Please press the self destruct button
You are what you are: delirious scum
Praise the Lord, halleluiah
The missiles are flying

poet
SatansSperm
Dangerous Mind
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Joined 19th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 2350

eulogy of repents

It is in these moments
of longing & melancholy
devoid of human contact
like a cardboard cutout audience
at the funeral of a dictator
that I find myself
pouring another glass of poison
on the rocks
this socially acceptable form of torture
trying to ease the pain
of killing her
& the subsequent burial
I unearthed our memories
like some antiquated biography
left on a dusty shelf
in an airless room
long sought to be forgotten
from my mind
it was the scent of her chimera
that took me to that door again
the broken heartstrings
that had bound
my hands
that fashioned the key
to open it
the exquisite torture
of your essence
that made my hand reach for the handle
wishing to run my hands
through the ashen remains
scattering them
to the winds
& now I have no one but myself
to make me suffer

04182017

poet
Hepcat61
geoff the cat
Fire of Insight
United States
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Forum Posts: 795

April 18, 2017

CYCLE II: WATER

Incubation

As slowly cooling sunsí refracted light,
Above the steaming haze of primal ice,
Did flavor gas with particles incite
To arcing linesí electrical entice.
In torrents flew for eons without stop,
To burning rock that split the wet in two.
That other gas would come from shattered drop.
In age on age, the vaporsí congress grew.
On seas beget in rage beneath the storm,
That scored and mixed the elemental dust,
In warming stew and cooling air took form,
A single cell of proteinsí iron rust.
From simple life did all life come of age,
Were amniotic oceansí first engage.


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