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 406° 
Nat Lipstadt
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath


Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.


Jan 6, 2013
your effusive and lengthy comments are each a poem in their own right.  

Tinkered with June 22, 2013
With a push from Bala,
A serial peeper, thank God!
 278° 
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 103° 
b
this is it?
this is what we signed up for?
you told me I signed a contract on this hell I chose for myself,
you're telling me I came her willingly
an angel in disguise,
from another planet,
but I know better,
I know I was never an angel,
and don't want to be one either,
because angels do cry,
and angels do dream,
until
it all comes crashing,
because all along,
behind the veil of it all,
you already signed another contract with the devil,
and you wonder about all the uncertainty,
because there's no certainty
in black and white,
the only certainty
is grey in color
 35° 
Suzy
‘Why me ‘ he says

‘Why you’ I say
‘I wish I knew ‘

The feeling is overwhelming
The frustration is consuming
The desire is deliciously warming
This emotion is heartfelt and so very real .
‘So ‘ I say
That’s why
 29° 
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 28° 
August
He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.
 23° 
S R Mats
Her fears rise-up like a great angry bird suddenly
Flapping black wings. Flitting here, then there.
Glimpses of what had been, what was, what might be.
But these are only the shadows of clouded eyes
Dulled with age and thickened in time.
Held within a brain dulled and thickened the same.
Shadows had darkened her life before,
Throughout her almost 90 years.  Now once more
They were back like an unwanted friend,
Yet these had never really been real
Only in that they now grip her life.
 22° 
Julian
i believe,
even the stars
get tired.

when the night sky
had folded them away
back into the darkness

and the moon,
that lonesome thing,
has doused itself in shadows.

so will you too, my friend
shy away from the light
as if it would burn
if it reached you.

maybe you feel,
you just are not strong enough
to face the day.

that the midnight hour
is a broken thing

and oh, the silence
is deafening.

and you and i know, even the stars
are tired.

you mourn for them
as their light expires.
 21° 
Phia
Your words cut deep
like daggers as they leave your mouth
but all my brain hears is
he loves me,
he loves me,
he loves me
 20° 
onlylovepoetry
“wordlessly watching, heartlessly helping “

an early morning insertion,
says writes a love poem of
necessity, no formal request,
but as I am quiet bound to
her chest rhyming rising, falling,
she, caught between eyes closed,
but ears open, in pretense of deep
sleeping,
leaves me treading words,
“wordlessly watching, heartlessly helping “
borrowed for reuse, as waves
that have been here moments
ago, but just now splashing me
to a place of inspiration, I look
up at the jambalaya of verses,
and declare myself satisfied,
both in love and wish this:

a completed poem that satisfies
the urging~surging to tell her I
love her without disturbing her
peaceful state of drowsy and
permitting me too~~~~~~~to
taste a piece
of peace, so well completed
8:56am 10/4/2023
 17° 
Mudashi
I am sorry
I have failed to stay happy
like how you would have wanted me to be.
 16° 
ATL
when I awaken
I extend my finger
towards a panel of dancing light-

did you know that its veins were torn from a mountain?

a whole hierarchy of angels
living inside the earth
were turned to transistors

so that my letters
could glow in your hands.

when I learned this
I began sleeping beside a stream,

in the places where I could watch
wires dance-

beneath wooden pillars and their flimsy black arms
whispering secrets in permanent embrace.

every night I would dream  
to the forward noise
of churning water;

of fluid drifting through the air unseen
or pouring from life long past-

terraforming
for the maintenance of symmetry.
 15° 
uselace
"I liked your smile better
When you were younger,"
She said
I was tempted to ask why
But we both knew.
It's harder to smile now.
Some women belong to the Spring.
They're meant to bloom,
but they were never yours to keep.
 13° 
Yuki
I stopped looking
for my other half
in other people
the moment I realized
I was already whole
within myself.
I find no shame
in my solitude
now that alone
I do not feel lonely.
 13° 
B D Caissie
The ephemeral beauty of a bloom.
Is cherished because it’s gone too soon.

Petals weaken and colours must fade.
Falling to earth whence it was made.

Light shines upon thee though tears fall like rain.
Find peace for blossoms in heaven forever remain.
 13° 
kell
<3
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
-max
my favorite poem
 13° 
Snow Selmon
Sometimes I'm sick
Emptying my feelings
Into the pipes they go
Just to resurface later
To haunt me again
 12° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 11° 
Tegan
Oh what a privilege,
to have known you.
I will carry a piece of you,
in my heart forever.
 11° 
JA Perkins
Genuine like a child
Candid like an open book
Exotic like The Wild
Reassuring like a second look
My baby
 11° 
Poet X
I swear I’m not a love poet but

loving you
makes me scared of dying .

I know what it’s all about now,
I get why the sun rises
and the moon sets.
I understand why the stars shine
and the birds chirp.
I get why the heart beats
and the lungs breathe.

I get it now,
why I’m alive.
loving you is the only thing I feel good at .
 11° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
 10° 
Heavy Hearted
Autumns leaves undo
& all that's said carefully-
remains untrue

Unorganized these
unprecedented artworks
Powerfully heal.
2 stanza northamericanized haiku
 10° 
Eliza
of all the things i regret,
You will never be one of them.
 9° 
Edward
Your love is always perfect, it is always real as well.
You have brought me close to some Great poets ever.
In fact I would say the greatest poets that live today.
I appreciate that I can really enjoy their beautiful writes.
So one thing that I am asking you O Saving God tonight.
You are already using them mightily double that portion.
In each of the make their poems twice as beautiful please.
Also make their poems twice as powerful as they were before.
Bless them with doubling their poetry talent in every way now.
 9° 
3
this feeling is not
symbiotic: you reduce
my core to nothing
at least i am something (ashes) and at least you are happy
i am molded symbiose!
m.b.d forever
 9° 
susan
she: what is it about me?
he: what do you mean?
she: me...?
he: uh...
she: what don't i have?
he: uh...
she: i'm overweight...
he: um...
she: i'm unattractive
he: what?...
she: i'm boring
he: no...
she: i'm dumb
he: uh, well....
she: i give up
he: well, i....
she: nope, that's it, i give up
he: oh, come on...
she: quit trying to talk me out of it
he: i was only...
she: i'm done, good bye
he: wait, what, where are you...
she: have a good life
          he:.....
he:....
he: what about dinner?
 9° 
A M Ryder
How do you
Forgive yourself
For all the things
You never became?
 9° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 9° 
Venga
you never know how much
you truly suffer

until you’ve caused your
own sufferings
 9° 
Chelsea Rae
Strange, isn't it?

The way we mourn those
Still living...
I miss you.
 9° 
Amaryllis
‘Aren’t you afraid of my darkness, my dear?’ Hades asked with mischief in his eyes.
‘No.’ Persephone replied, ‘You haven’t seen mine yet.’
Do you know the story about Hades and Persephone?
 8° 
A Poet
Could this be real
That after a year
I fell for you again

Stronger than the first time
Not drunk from wine
But from your cup of tea
Love as broad as the sea

I’m full of happiness and joy
My handsome and charming boy
The bound is stronger
And I adore you more than ever
My lover.
 8° 
Frank Russell
Agreed, that love is attraction
    - though not only surface sensual,
      as you maintain,
      not only toward the external -
But that sweet involuntary pull is
      also inward for expansion;
      for interior sifting
      and resolution.
Love is primarily attraction to
      unexplored depths
      of the self.




- fr
 8° 
haysia
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
"
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
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