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Writing Challenge: write a sixty second poem (or prose)

this is a great idea for a thread my poems usually take under 5 minutes to write and i try to spell check but thats about it. i called it narritive poetry.


heres mine i wrote today. i think it has potential for a re-work

asymptotic symetries
of wandering hyperbole
open my mind
to the new

scientific inquieries
of trunicated anarchies
relax my grip
on the truth

scizophrenic schisms
in my holistic prism
awake my soul
to possibilities
 
Some quick randomness; maybe the start of something(?):


she likes her ___s

I write her:
“wow, so
been digging your old stuff” (with a pin, if I’m lucky a straw)
(lucky she likes small dirt)

her much-booted issues
never got buried, but

she bottled her early venom

favourite phrase: “what the fuck do you...”

*

torch the CVs;
let's go for entry-level

small with me into hiding, we can be secret
kit of skins / shaking boots
 
What? Frederick, no!
Put that Down!
That's
Not Yours! Don't! Please!
I'll be very sad if you....NO!!!!
I wanted you to live...
I just wanted to look like
A responsible person......
 
tora bora bicuspid

oh hi
here are there
got a soul slow cog that turns
which ever way you go
the over deciever to my fallacy
interacting strategies
that masochistically embattle me
i'm asking for three
but two will do
i forgive the never forgotten for fearing
the choice of two
sales reports show
the devils in the door
open season tvs
in store seashore
apathy at the actual cost of life
 
If Abraham Lincoln was alive today
Hed be a movie critic

In the theater hed sit
eyes all ablaze
the fire alighitng
the reel fixeth the gaze

the stories play out
So many different movies
but they all end the same
with blood on his brand new booties

Click Bang

(not very good i know, but hey, it only took 60 seconds!)
 
Sophmoric Diffusion
Laughing coldly at
the underbelly of
the society while
the punks and rejects
thrive and prosper on their
own joy and meaning of life.
 
Here is mine. It is longer than sixty seconds, but not by much.
It had been almost an hour,
I was anxious, excited, concerned and most of all I was
ready. The inside of my body began to vibrate,
the street lights grew brighter and the beams
shot past me and I felt the earth move.
My heart was buzzing; I felt a different type of warmth,
and then it hit me like a freight train.
We are so fucking insignificant, one machine with many parts.
Churning and grinding in different unisons but
yet it still operates without fault. We are all
DEAD….until we discover how to be born.
Then we die shortly after birth, only to piece together the blurry
events of life and to interpret the interaction of life itself.

I’m in a room now
no permanent description can be made, the walls
have a story to tell, the colors permeate from top to bottom,
east to west, I can see the stories now.
I don’t recognize the language, is it human?

……..a wall of symphonic entropy bounces
around the confines of the structure. I hear lyrics
and it comforts me.

I awake and find myself in my room.
Its been twelve hours and I’m dead again.
Yet the afterglow remains and as a result
I feel whole.

Surely I was not alone in feeling this way
Perhaps it is better to linger in ignorance
Until the realization that enlightenment is all your soul
Needs
 
It's back.
I am a master of everything.
From cooking a meal to wiping my arse after it's done it's duty,
everything "thing" is continuity; a wave/rhythm.
 
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