#poetypardy

[charliewykes]

all jokes aside

The crooked road emboldened highways Crazed by endless strays transformations That turn into unwilling companions Stuck along a tacky parade of chants Reinvented by rats inciting cat calls Boisterous of noise piled to the top Of deep retreats beguiling vile pitches Only dogs could hear upon sun spotted Broken vases setting momentum’s case Ahead of endless mazes cursed perfect Curves soaking sauced in written moments Costing chronic nostalgia’s flamboyancy Judged by boys paving the way with concrete That missed the grit of brick chipping away At sunny days faded soaring away fixtures Decrying decisions warranting comped voids Where compassion decided to get away With doing in soft-headed masters posturing Quick wonder over passersby from the tribe Used to tricks unleashed laughing suddenly Preposterous philosophies soon suggest Prophecies undone by singing sock puppets

[jossfontenot]

Following

I don’t want to be the first to speak Even if it’s through my red wine teeth You don’t seem to realise that I’ve spoken first a thousand times

I cross platforms just to see The transient prints you left behind And even if I find you there Your stone-cold tongue won’t move a bit

I'm crazy to still stand here, on the shore Arms outstretched, my organs in hand Dripping red that sinks into sand By the transient prints you left behind

And when your boat pulls in You won’t even flinch You’ll pass me by and assume I’ll follow To the house I built

And I’ll repackage myself, I’ll toss my pen in the sea You’re right, I will follow, God damn you

[nightlywrites]

Most nights at 3am,

I wonder

where I’ll be in

five, ten, fifteen years.

Other nights at 3am,

I wonder

If I’ll make it that far.

Is it worth living with the pain and misery?

Can I handle it any longer?

I don't see the light to the end of all my problems

But I hope it's there, somewhere.

[charliewykes]

too free for jesus

Crisis creators procreated
 Unfathomable unmentionables
 Well polished and pushed in
 Going against the original idea
 The designer had planned for.
 Synchronicity staged its connections
 With power outlets that ran spinning
 Upon running hamsters on a wheel
 Promised good meals for both parties 
Despite growing weak by passing weeks
. Consumption was repugnant in frail chic 
As living fast to die young gave up speed