Poetry

MY VALIANT SOUL

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Under the clear skies with pearls of white words,
I knit my word into my emotion, repeat the process
brush, brush, and blink, blink.
Taking the ecstasy onto my teeth, I feel the caress of my saddest lines,
put it on my fragile white shoulder,
then cut my words and swallow the ink,
this is how I started Poetry.

With a blank space between my fingers,
with a crooked faith,
my breast was swollen with fire, the unflinching desire
thumping my murky pen, producing a river of composed mind,
producing the glitters of fairy dust
this is how I started Poetry.



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My skin has another skin

MY VALIANT SOUL

Image result for sad paintings image credits- SuzanNeellis

I am anxious like the painting of Mona Lisa

Curated with my own jitters,

There is a platter of loss, rumbling loud inside

where the web of splinters corrode my skin

And you may see my second skin,

for pain is the language of skin.

The mouth of a cave is that invincible spot of the moon

so, the mouth resides inside my blood.

Where the droolings of grey skies touch my bare shoulder

screeching. ( the inside is the rupture of seeds, with no desire of flowers)

Total Darkness. Cold distilled blue.

Yet, the poetry of inside soul speaks an

array of hopeful rainbows.

© My Valiant Soul


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Templar Treasure

Treasure

Templar treasure, sought by many
ships, left in the dead of night,
destination, known only to a few
a secret, never to be shared.

They slipped out of port
ships, laden down with gold
a treasure, that would be talked about
a treasure, a secret place, never told.

Hundreds of years pass by
Templar Treasure… Where is it?
asked by many, but no one knows
has the secret, been taken to the grave!

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Earth’s Destruction

scificities27

A comet observed in space
on a pre-ordained course,
is knocked off course
smashing into a dead planet.

Rain clouds of meteors
from the dead planet,
are sent hurtling through space
smashing into the sun.

Earth; once a living planet
temperatures keep on rising,
man forced to live inside
waiting for recovery.

Factory Closure

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The factory is all but still
no orders to be dispatched,
those on the picket line
will be the death of us all.

Lorries and trucks
turned away from the gates,
no admittance for deliveries
no supplies, as we run short.

We all want a good wage
we all agree with that,
but any job is better
than no job at all.

The union man comes out
his face said it all,
they won’t negotiate
so its dole queue, for you.