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Sombro Jan 2015
I have a cat
Black as midnight
With a tail strong
From bristling and curving into s-shapes.

He came to us younger and firmer
Fur thick with the muscle of the cold
From the hunt for somewhere else
And he was hungry.

My mother said he must have been beaten
Because he had learnt to fear a hand from above
So we stroked him from the side
Asking meek permission.

He learnt to recognise my shoes as
That one thing which brought love
And could not be human because
It did not shout.

I changed my shoes often when I learnt this
So that every day it learnt to love someone new
And now it fears no human
And sits warmly at our sides.

We called him Bagheera because
We know that he comes
From a dark jungle
Where only the strongest of heart can survive.
The jungle, something that we all perhaps lose ourself in. Metaphoooooooooooooor!!!
True story.
Sombro Jan 2015
She told me she's an artist
And it was sad to see
Her mouth make 'Umm's as she thought
Her brush strokes torturing me.

I didn't love her, no indeed
But she was good and so I feared
That one day she would have to find
That pain would oft 'umm' as it neared

One day she made my portrait
It was not good but I suppose
That for one who 'ummed' and erred
It was beauty in dead clothes.

One day she called me seeking feeling
And comfort with soft words
She failed to sell a painting still
But I just ummed and erred.

We did not speak for many months
But she came back one day
At my doorstep children stood
About her by her way

She asked me for forgiveness
And I begged it in return
For few may sell their paintings
But good people never spurn.
It's sometimes hard to keep in mind the feeling behind every piece of work, especially if it's bad. This is a story of judging and how harmful it can be. :)
The title's supposed to be word play, you've heard the phrase 'Uhming and Ahing' right?
Sombro Jan 2015
Waking up with a brain that sticks to the sheets
It must have leaked last night '***
I'm resting on a puddle.
A full bladder can't get me out of here.

Breathing deep and feeling your thoughts diluted
And yawning, though you're still half dreaming and
You could swear that this shirt wasn't on you before.
Why are you at work?

Coffee jumpstarts your heart, but you heard it misfire.
Your clockwork legs and arms wind back up and
You try for another day. The air outside your bed is
Cold.

You find your way back with miracle eyes
Just before you lose your softness
As you crash into the cotton shores
You're blunt once again.
I'm a heavy sleeper.
Sombro Jan 2015
A boy turned to me in class and said
'I'm going to be an astronaut!'
But he thought not of rocketships
So I ignored him.

A girl turned to me and said
'I'm going to be a good person.'
And she smiled so
I believed her.

The adult turned to us and said
'I'm going to be your teacher!'
But she thought not of our minds so
I ignored her.

I turned to their backs and said
'I'm going to be something.'
And they saw nothing in my eyes so
They laughed.

I don't know where they are now, but
Many are not on their set roads, for
I would have seen them and
Walked with them hand in hand.
A little big headed perhaps, oh well.
Sombro Jan 2015
It’s that time
Watch the country crowd
Warmed by their desperation
Turn their hopes up loud

The numbers in
The ***** are rolling
To their effect
The bells are tolling

I sit apart
And watch their faces
Numbers hold
Power graces

It’s sad to know
They accept what they want to be
Should we play
The lottery?
Sombro Jan 2015
I saw a whisp of beauty woken
Its dragon eyes stole out from treasure
It roared, wide mouthed, no teeth in gums
And fixed on me with window eyes
I watched it flutter, not swoop indeed
Its wings were of hummingbirds
And I marveled at its probuscis
And it wondered at my soft skin


I felt
My peace float from me
My eyes turn yellow
And crack like old paper
My cheeks shrink from cold.

The beauty flew away
I knew not where
I was left with the treasure it had left
For I had won
But I missed the beast
And wished
It had never woken.
Sometimes wonderful moments make me sad. I'm afraid I'll never see them again and all the cherishing in the world could not do then justice.
Sombro Jan 2015
The ink from heaven gates falls not as hard
As when I smell
My own fear
And my mind pours forth in fluid
Anxious to hide the bitter truth
With the iron tang of crimson.
It scabs
I cannot breathe,
Suffocated - the truth of my mind
My nose bleeds raw and
I face another day.
I get nose bleeds a lot :(
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