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Levi Mericle Poem
Tortured by sheer civility
Civility tortured by me
Duties lie in the world of pain
Challenged by poetry
Who dies, who lives, who cries for life
Meek in emotion for thee
Who dies, who lives, who cries for life
Death from civility
Copyright © Levi Mericle | Year Posted 2009
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Levi Mericle Poem
Pushing all my silence into an almost perfect place
Where echoes bounce off echoes, to what I consider grace
Another bullet in the wind, against what slurs my speech
Barbed wire wrapped around my soul, where grace can never reach
Fortunate to have a heart, with a short supply of need
Unfortunate to love a world, that suffocates all greed
Tomorrow holds an angels wing that floats to all I hate
And reaches Christ with starving crumbs on every empty plate
Pungent flowers seek the love, deserved by every thing
Yet we step on painful scars, that helps the demons sing
A loving blade against all hope, will reconnect the pain
And these padded walls that still exist, will never leave my brain
Against the perfect rainbow, where death can never live
Amongst the bones of fairy tales, a short supply to give
Pieces of my legend will, exit through my guilt
And every drop of life will live, for all the death I spilt
Sorrows lie inside my tongue, and reconnects with rage
As every letter that I write, burns off of the page
Copyright © Levi Mericle | Year Posted 2009
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Levi Mericle Poem
“By the calm cold chill so silent like winter
So quick and abrupt like the pinch of a splinter
A hand drew near to my corpse as I live
No soul to be stolen no feelings to give
My riches have spent all the will to go on
And all melody has left is but the end of a song
What more can I give to the doom of the dead
No sip of cold water or a splinter of bread
No battle wound bleeding to sponge back to health
No pockets still willing to feed off of wealth
No promise of heaven to the ones who have died
No lips to secure to show who has lied
My silver has tarnished to a pitiful rust
My blanket has withered to a state of no trust
What is becoming of me and my will
No joy to have cherished or dreams to fulfill
Just a bucket of tears that I weep still inside
And a plot still dug in case I have died
By the calm cold chill as lovely as snow
I give in to the hand that bids me to go”
Copyright © Levi Mericle | Year Posted 2009
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Levi Mericle Poem
I set the feed on platforms
And my feathered friends feast
On thistle and sunflower seeds
My heart sings as the lark whistles
A tune of pleasure
The mockery of the mocking bird
Hoots, cackles and whistles away
my ears are pleased to listen
But something tears the ground with caution
Nine lives and a belly of emptiness
He slithers up the tree
Like a serpant with a wish
And his prey lying open in the field
I watch this happen like a pin dropping
Faster than I can stop
He pounces on the meadowlark
A beast in my backyard And the cries of pain
The cries of terror Are too much for me to bear
He whisks the bird away and feeds on his flesh
And I feed my friends no more
Copyright © Levi Mericle | Year Posted 2009
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Levi Mericle Poem
Clara, Clara come out to play
And rise from your satin bed
Close the door against the day
And I won’t tell you’re dead
Clara my sweet Clara
The angels bid you wake
The tyrants rise before your eyes
Against a closed mistake
Clara oh sweet Clara
Remember why you’re dead
And why you lay among the stones
That gently forms your bed
Clara, Clara come out to play
Awake oh gentle loom
And weave your meaning in the day
And out from the tomb
Copyright © Levi Mericle | Year Posted 2009
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