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Burnt Sierra's Poetry, Abandon all hope, ye who enter here... |
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| mALX |
Mar 29 2013, 02:32 AM
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Ancient

Joined: 14-March 10
From: Cyrodiil, the Wastelands, and BFE TN

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QUOTE On the bedstand, a cigarette winking at me invitingly.
I love this line! I am loving these poems! "Gutter Glitter," "This Day," and "Sea Breeze" - these felt sad and final, the closing of a chapter in the writer's life and we are inside his head as he turns the page. "The Mirror" - that kind of reminds me of the Native American belief that captured images capture a bit of your soul with each - picking away at your life force till it is gone. Every time I see pictures of someone taken recently before they died I think of that. If this poetry is yours, you should be publishing it and selling it, you have an Awesome talent!
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| Burnt Sierra |
May 20 2020, 10:14 PM
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Two Headed cat

Joined: 27-March 05
From: UK

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Edited, as these two poems belong together.
Open Your Eyes
It’s selfish of me, I know But I’m not sure I’m ready to let go What if my memory starts to fade That’s what is making me so afraid I fear your image will no longer show That I will be reliant on a photo.
Too late now, that moment has passed And two weeks on, I still sit here aghast.
Open your eyes, open your eyes. Am I wishing I could go back And will it to be true Or a message to myself To face the bitter truth.
JPG, May 2020
Tribute
I try to remember those lessons you taught To allow the love you gave take over my thoughts Now shouldn’t be the moment for a sad lament But the time for me to honour just what you meant.
The time has come for me to say farewell Those negative emotions I’ll aim to dispel But one thing my heart can say that’s true Is I hope you know how much I’m going to miss you.
As the sun sets, and the day comes to an end I’ll remember you, of that you can depend I remember your voice, your scent, your touch I remember all those moments that I’ll miss so much.
JPG, May 2020
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| Burnt Sierra |
Jan 3 2021, 04:47 AM
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Two Headed cat

Joined: 27-March 05
From: UK

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After a year in which everything turned, I ended up reverting to writing poetry consistently in May - specifically as a result of losing my mother to Covid (hence the previous two poems - apologies, but needed to write the emotions out of my system), after I'd spent the last five years looking after her due to being diagnosed with Alzheimer's (the largest reason I was offline for so long). Anyway, a few experiments with rhyming poems:
You'll Only Get What You Pay For
You come seeking fortune and fame Like moths circling the flame Every season is the same Seeking to join the great game.
As you strive to make your claim Though I don’t remember your name And there is nobody to blame When you return home in shame.
You’ll only get what you paid for Don’t expect any more Might get your foot through the door But you won’t get a tour.
Don’t expect it to be fair No matter how shiny your hair Nobody listens to your prayer It usually ends in despair.
I suppose I should share That to make it is rare But that would mean I care And my advice would go nowhere.
You’ll only get what you paid for Just a small chance to explore This great game that I adore Before you end up on the floor.
JPG, May 2020
The Cursed False Dawn Of Autumn
I’m sitting outside, just sipping on a rye Biting down the urge to let out a war cry Cursing the sun as it slips out of the sky Earlier and earlier it waves goodbye.
Trying to maintain some sense of decorum The summer dissected like a post mortem As I fill the days to fight off the boredom Brought on by that cursed false dawn of autumn.
Nearing the time when it turns to Halloween Waiting for the news of the future vaccine Aromas all around me start to convene Roasted nuts that smell as fine as haute cuisine.
I fall into a repetitious routine Involving hours in front of a large flat screen As I fill the days to fight off the boredom Brought on by that cursed false dawn of autumn.
JPG, October 2020
Not Playing With A Full Deck
Saturday night, another bounced cheque The look she gives says, “you’re kind of a wreck” Sadly, long gone are the days of low tech I guess I’m not playing with a full deck.
It was a bargain I thought, cheap as chips Clever as staring into an eclipse I might as well start to rely on tips Grab the pole, tap my feet and swing my hips Smile and sway towards the beckoning lips Dreading the moment, the lips change to whips.
Being real would cost an arm and a leg Living on lunch of nothing but an egg Might as well try to eat a bloody jpeg Or I could just sit in the street and beg.
Possible I’m barking up the wrong tree The wrong choice is almost a guarantee My angel and devil never agree Revert to habit and prepare to flee Dear reader, are you beginning to see How the cards never seem to fall for me.
Saturday night, another bounced cheque The look she gives says, “you’re kind of a wreck” Sadly, long gone are the days of low tech I guess I’m not playing with a full deck.
JPG, November 2020
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| Renee |
Jan 5 2021, 04:35 PM
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Councilor

Joined: 19-March 13
From: Ellicott City, Maryland

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I've never 'spoken' to you online Sierra, but I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. Things really did take many awful turns this year. My family has been rather lucky, but some co-workers have been really hit hard. Poring these poems slowly within that light, yeah, my eyes are damp right now. QUOTE My angel and devil never agree So true.
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