Dustin Carpenter
Dustin Carpenter
1 day ago      4 seconds ago

Little lamb,
    Curious child,
    I see you climb the crumbling steps
    Of the clock tower
    Bleed to grease the creaking gears
    I tell thee:
                     Your affirmation Time does not need
                      It is a study of indifference toward you and me

      You will bleed from the eyes
       And go blind
       If you have forgotten the soul's
           Incarnation

The poet with thickest skin
Scowls, wrinkles his nose
Stabs a silver trout with his pen
      There is no word for soul
      In the vocabulary of his grave lexicon

Memory, love, immortality
Eros wakes in the Union
       Of two bodies melding the canvas of
       Luminous skin
The poet with thickest skin
Thinks....
                And thinking makes it so
He believes the pilgrim escapes the grave
By serving biological need
                 Lives on through his offspring

But I have not come to bifurcate words
Or paralyze trust
Poets are of unlimited stripes
I honor the work of the poet with thickest skin
    He arrests my eyes
    With the agility of his rhymes

Little lamb,
      Curious child
      Waking from innocence
You are the third body made from the Union
Of sinner and saint
You approach the precipice
        Of hypnotic Time and material greed

I would sit at your feet and hear your
Songs of innocence
Stay patient to hear your
Songs of experience

You are closer to the start
     The door still open
Eros waits in the wilderness of your human heart
The end is a mirage too far off to see

History is a producer of ruins
Come down from the clock tower
Let Time have its victims who live asleep

Inhale the aroma
This moment
Of the bread inside you rising

                Little lamb who made thee?

Carmela Mel Patterson
Carmela Mel Patterson
8 hours ago      6 minutes ago

burdens carried are behind me now
fleet of foot, my steps tarry not
freedom from all that
far too long
beset me
clamor no more
for my attention
thoughts lightened
spirited forth, future
foreseeable, my soul soars
like an eagle assail in seas of
cloudless cerulean skies and ...
burdens I carried are behind me now.

Written Oct 24 © Carmela M. Patterson, All rights reserved
#sad   #life   #hope   #verve   #burdens  
Arnèle H
Arnèle H
1 day ago      8 minutes ago

Why did you have to kiss me like that?
Like I was your whole world,
And nothing or no one else
mattered to you in that moment...
But me.
Why did you kiss me with such passion,
such purpose, such energy?
You screwed up my recovery.

"Lust.. Infatuation.. Love"

© All rights reserved.
Arnèle Francis.
BJC404
BJC404
1 day ago      14 minutes ago

I don't think
you realize how
much this is
hurting me but
on the off chance
that you do care,
it's better this way.

I don't think
you realize how
much it hurt to
hear you say
that you love
her and she
loves you but
it's better this way.

Do you know
what I felt when
I realized I don't
even deserve you?
All I can tell myself is
it's better this way.

I don't think
you realize how
much it hurt when
I invited you to
the park to grab
the last fleeting
memories before
we part, and all
that matters is
it's better this way.

I don't think
you realize how
much it hurts to
make excuses not
to talk to you.
it's better this way.
it's better this way.

Oh, God, tell me I'm making
the right choice here.
Is it better this way?

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but
I've made my choice.

Goodbye.

punch-drunk
punch-drunk
9 hours ago      24 minutes ago

I'll sink to the bottom of the ocean,
to the dust and sands that litter its depths.
And i'll sink my fingers deep into your innocence,
and fall ever so delicately through to you...

Paradox
Paradox
1 day ago      26 minutes ago

They say it's never too late
But for me,
Im way too late
You can't here me now
No matter how loud I say these three word
I lost my last chance
All i can do now
Is to cry infront of your grave
Feeling the pain alone

#love   #regret   #pain   #alone   #i   #late   #you   #chances  
Wuji Shiu
Wuji Shiu
1 day ago      40 minutes ago

Ebola has my name on it, the Doctor
Who came back with Ebola
In New York, yes you heard me right
His name is Mr. Spencer, I’m a

Spencer, he rode the subway in the dark
And he went bowling a week after
He came back, and he only went
To the hospital very sick

This is dementia of the public system
And the main stream media
Is being blacked out by the Czar
Appointed by Obama, he’s a lawyer by trade

Are you surprised that Ebola
Can hitch a ride with a Doctor without borders?
There are no borders for a pandemic
It increases exponentially

And peaks sometime in 2017
I’m sorry to be the first to break
The News, but Ebola is running wild
Somewhere in New York, somewhere near you

There could be a city that has it already
And do you think the media would let you know?

#poetry   #in   #new   #york   #2014   #plague   #october   #ebola   #pandemic  
 
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