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"Going to be late for dinner. Rush Hour!"

Playing with the Platypus
pretending the Preying Mantis
made a makers mark
on the playing cards
secret Joker Deck.

Sitting on the sticky stick of stickers.

Sitting in the setting set by the table setters.

Sitting on the soft sofa sipping the sour soda.

Alliterating the alternate wording worth alliterating.
M Clement Apr 2013
I mixed liquid nitrogen
With my *** juices
Now I'm cool as ****

Interested in interesting intellectuals
Bringing bacon back, bread-bringing *******
Alliterating alliterative allocutions allowing abusive acronyms

For goodness and badness
And for some ugliness
Here’s the facts and I’ll lay them down right:
I’m a ******* sorcerer
And I don’t finish lists

Irony in the ironical first-person
I left someone behind when they told me to
And now I’m better off,
Know this poem’s for you.
Every time I see your face, I really hope you’re doing well
But deep in my mind I know that nothing’s changed
And you’re still the same, as I’m trying to change
To be a better person than I was when we met
But it’s something that you never noticed, yet
Something inside of me says we’re polar
Opposites and what really happened
Was for the best, for both of us
So I still keep in touch with
Friends around you
And I hope secretly
That you fall in
Unending mercy
And that I’m wrong.
Andrew Jiang Oct 2011
The life lived in a fog
illuminated by different shades of gray
potentiating an explosion of colors
ever vividly fade into our

dreams

alliterating perfectly with
drained, dread, and dreary
bouncing off of the hard shell of reality
ricocheting through this haze we call

life

is meant to be inhaled and exhaled
with symmetrical patterns
tittering on the balance of fate and faith
inching ever closer to the center of mass:

21 grams

light it up and watch it burn
take a puff and free fall
in the high that is lower than
the lowest lows...

failure?

forces the question of whether
the shattered future will reach
its imaginary destination, or
be forever lost in this

twilight

marks the beginning of another tired cycle
weighted down by the burden of success
caught up in the monochrome movie
that parades its credits before the

ending.
I am ashamed to have written this poem.
island poet Feb 2020
Savior or Savor


E.B. White

“If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning, torn between a desire to improve (or save) the world and a desire to enjoy (or savor) the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.”
<>

E.B.
you trap me tween savior and savor
and my plans well prescribed on a yellow pad
get ignored and the ignorant fool not cool

the poetry plane is my escape route
but that is now a locked door, saying goodbyes,
can neither save nor savor,
sorry have to return your world weary wise favor

frozen on a verse, a line too far for my composing,
but thanks for alliterating my stuck place
Left Foot Poet Feb 2020
blessed are the tangents (what you imagine are needs)

the wrong roads that take you to your
beaten, off-road track, the ones you think,
tangents that ought be refused, smoking fumes,
dangerous inhalation aromatic spirits alliterating

the overgrown little paths saying don’t go,
but every instinct begs this is a blessed tangent,
convince yourself, not cause you wanted to,
you do it anyway, the undiscovered, undisclosed

what you imagine are needs; the computation that
begs for solution the risk fire extinguisher, expiring,
a tangent eye piercing, when all previous notions
finally, safe securing, take you nowhere, a treadmill

He is not modeled on old schemes, his provocative poems,
stop the samo thinking, you think what if, I need his risk,
he is what he is, willing me be to be broken and healed,
our tangents don’t overlap, but,  how they cross, a pointillist perfect

the intersection point, fulsome, each caress , a soothing explosive,
when he gives, you take, reservoirs refilled, wen he leaves,
leaving you whole and dissatisfied, you remember ******* punch
of his first words, blessed are the tangents

and you sleep deep, dreamless, your residual smile, modest,
almost linear but for the curly ends, pointedly upwards,
seeking new tangents, needful for new, the sacred prior,
stored but set aside, the new tangents, afired, offer blessings unknown


2/1/2020 7:52 am
nyc everywhere


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3691113/how-i-know-we-will-make-love-somedayprimal2/
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
You may as well,
of course, perusal, per use usual
for us, run on
rule rocking rolled
on by in to the annals,
somewhere, I agreed
with all the rich preachers sell,
breathe,
blow it out,
feel or see, it rippled,
we passed recently
through jello time thread,
that does eventually lead
to you reading this.
That is as true as it ever wished
to be, you know,
I did this,
and it worked.
I was good
at magic tears, my granddaughter taught me,
tears for the weeping other, seen,
there, catch your

breath, the action, laughing is, does what medicines do.
Hap is an elemental idea, a basic hydrogen idea,
comparative happenstance adjust the ocular tension
in the kneck and back, happiness is
breathing, confirm,
means what my CPU dhe
say it is so in words if no other form,
there is no door to hell from here, this
is the point
of Christmas being made…
the promised message is your peace,
make it up, and make it wink, peace
in words
from whither words wisedhe we'ld enjoyed
alliterating as much as some neume harmonies insist
eeee
fa la la 'n' all… rest easy peace where you pray.

A little leaven is accounted, in breathing time,
slow nodding yes I see, so now
breathe, and think, no, it never ends, the task
is to redeem each idle word, we loose,
in these post jello time conditions,

breathe-ing, stepping back breathing, focus
attention what is a minute well spent spilling
a seasonal flow I find, since I was a child, spills

I know the joy of my garden, and I
welcome your presense, as by now, we

look at the cup from the drinker's perspective,
some cups over flow, if these were pages in any
book of life down to the first point
being wisdom prior to light, nada
time and again, OMGOMGOMGOMG

breathe out nasally in and out, stop ask
If this were a novel
a new form now utilized as by a will as old
as any, given his first taste of assisted intuition,
that's it,
qwertyguy, I sit up straight, and burp, ver-ify
virtue flows Thales knew as well as any, wi-ro

How many pages would you love to read,
what would Diogenes say?

Autolycos laughs, a little. But asks as well
his role in some stories is paid hell to know,
usefully.
All who have read me so far have allowed me to recall past Christmas seasons that I have recorded, in forms other than words, and lost,
in reality all the idle words in the world weigh the same, used right,

Earth gravity twist the other way, umph... no,yes, okeh more
Katrina Majewska Dec 2021
If I spill my fear onto a page, I hope
I will at last be fit to to cope
By carefully crafting verses that can shelve my pain
And apathetically alliterating anxiety away
Perhaps then
I’ll be able to sleep again

But that which devours me and keeps me in chains
Will choke on the blood that runs through His veins

— The End —