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Category Archives: English Poetry

fighting art

Fortune

Two men were fighting, So I put a ring around them, And bet on them As people paid To see who would win – I made a fortune.

Ben Zank photography for Scottshak poem no crossing

No Crossing

You have your life, I have mine, Why mess things up? Let us be Where we are. We are seamless now, We might seem less then, When we tie our threads, And end up in a knot. When hearts collide, No one survives, Don’t you

i am a monster poem

Monster

You aren’t so close to me That I start whispering secrets In your ears, These secrets are afraid of distance, And if you were near I would be talking to your eyes More than to your ears, I might slip them down your lips, And

the faceless art for scottshak's poem the false protagonist

The False Protagonist

Maybe I read too much In my wilted time, And crumble when I don’t find You, in my pages. Red eyes scour you, Like you were written In there somewhere By my favourite author. Your mere mention Thrills me so, That every face Is the one

image for my player poem by scottshak

My Player

You take out the best in me Then play with it for hours, Fumble me in your fingertips, Poke me with your fun, Hold me so tight That I fear not slipping, But being toyed with For too long. I am written in dust, But

broken eggs chicken poultry image

Poultry

My, my! What a life! What a life! Bred to breathe A moment, It passes by In a shuteye, And then I realize I am picked up To be ground In a machine Yet again; Did I not just die? Why repeat the cycle again,

spokesman poetry by scottshak

Spokesman

Don’t link people with me, I represent none But one, That’s me, You see, I am my own spokesman, Who speaks words, Which sing of birds With a curse To never fulfill each other, I am a murder Of hopes, On the ropes Of defeat,

mask poem by scottshak

My Mask

Break me apart, Tear into my soul, Teether me away, Crumble me till I let out a teardrop For it is in such moments I am divine, True to myself in my truest form, Vulnerable, Breakable, And yet undeniably powerful, And if you wish to

he is a poet poem by scottshak

He is a Poet

Not hard to make a poet cry, He is already about emotions. Tears race inside his soul To find the outlet of expression. He can already see With his keen eyes, The pointlessness of the thing you hold dear, How when you tighten up your

image for u b u poem

U B U

Careful laughs, Uptight walks, I am no stranger to the business of love, You don’t have to pretend To be loved, Love happens when you are you. Don’t hide behind gaudy masks, I want you bursting like a bubble To my candid talks. I wish