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ladywolfrider
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ladywolfrider
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forefront
At the forefront of my mind is The Question. What will the answer be When I finally find the courage to speak It for the Universe, And not merely my mind? A Word sounded out across The tongue and off the lips is born, And even in death is remembered.
freezer
I am tired of all the Women Stuffed into fridges (head in the freezer when there's no room) For the sake of a man's pain and plot. Give me all the Girls fighting back (Give me queens of love and war and both) No more cheap trick sacrifice To justify moving the story along.
tracking
The Birth of a Character I watched as people traveled Through the crowd. Writer-voyeur as I Gleaned lives from quick Glaces.Tracking with magpie eyes Targets changing at whim To quilt together a whole person.
revenue
I have nothing... nope nada, can't think of anything to write damn I don't like this word
slip
The Vase You Gave Me Through the cracks Slips the water, drips the water. This vase is of no use Anymore.The dying flowers die quicker. What does that say about me And the gaps that opened up in me When you left me behind with The sound of shattering in my ear.
sniper
Poetry and Politics From the stage I see a glint Of sun on metal. From the window high Watches the man with a gun. No to simple a word, not gun, But death in another body, No still not right, maybe I have No words. Here I am about To die and I am debating words.
trenches
Down we go into the trenches There is no hope left there, Only dirt and blood and the eerie silence That curls around us all, a shadowy lover waiting Until the next crack of a shot frees a man's soul.
standing
This Stone Man is No Ozymandias Colossus ever standing his duty never done, (for no one will ever come) None to relieve him of his watch. His eyes have long been glazed by moss and wind and sleep denied His mouth a petulant angle yet to be worn away by time, Yet still he watches for those who might come ( they will ever come)
commissioned
She wanted me to write her a poem made of love and stardust. I told her it would only be rust and bone dust, because I didn't love her once she handed me money for my soul.
architecture
The column of you spine Will hold you up for millenia, but The walls of your heart are weak and without support, They will fall at the first blow And all that will be left are ruins.
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