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 3050° 
Nat Lipstadt
Oh Eliot, Poor Eliot, Your Fans Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' So Sad^

<>
we tithed thee with donations plenty,
here a dollar, there a fiver, a coupon for free chips,
worthy of somebody’s eternal gratitude,
that would be you,
da Duke, Duke of York

the largest online free poetry site,
a million visitors a day, why you must be
the richest poet online billionaire, right?
you,
da Duke, Duke of York and

occasional poet...

in return, all we occasional poets demand
steady on instant access, immediate satisfaction,
after all, a part time job deserves your bestus-best,
just like every other large online site, that never crashes,
we’re not like the just the rest, we are p o e t s,
occasionally

so keep the servers engines, well stoked with Newcastle coal,
keep them up and running round the clock,
using only alternative energy,
like the unceasing sun in merry old England!

quit that other job, you must,
instead of giving up on us,
for us,
a poetry break, a writing recharge, please add a limited liability
clause to the FAQ’s,
that our lives must deal with the hiccup
occasional

you, da Duke, Duke of York,
newly now, an appointment royale as Major General,^^
you, the very model of a modern major general
possessing information vegetable, animal, mineral and
technical,
who knows the Queens  of England,
maybe now telling tales of your fights with the hordes
hysterical
occasional

and
when you have a moment spare,
a haircut, please.

no, that is not a request, naturally

10/19/19
Noontime NYC
natalino
^^Messers Gilbert and Sullivan

^ Oh Dad, Poor Dad,
Hung You In The Closet and I’m Feeling So Sad
By Arthur Kopit
Jonathan
Well, I made it out of lenses and tubing. The lenses I had because Ma-Ma-Mother gave me a set of lenses so I could see my stamps better. I have a fabulous collection of stamps, as well as a fantastic collection of coins and a simply unbelievable collection of books. Well sir, Ma-Ma-Mother gave me these lenses so I could see my stamps better. She suspected that some were fake so she gave me the lenses so I might be...able to see. You see? Well sir, I happen to have nearly a billion sta-stamps. So far I’ve looked closely at 1,352,769. I’ve discovered three actual fakes! Number 1,352,767 was a fake. Number1,352,768 was a fake, and number 1,352,769 was a fake. They were stuck together. Ma-Mother made me feed them im-mediately to her fly –traps. Well... (He whispers.) one day, when Mother wasn’t looking...that is, when she was out, I heard an air-plane flying...somewhere, far away. And I ran outside to the porch so that JI might see what it looked like. The airplane. With hundreds of people inside it. Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of people. And I thought to myself, if I could just see...if I could just see what they looked like, the people, sitting at their windows looking out...and flying. If I Could see...just once...if I could see just once what they looked like...then I might...know what I-what I... (Slight pause.) So I...built a telescope in case the plane ever...came back again. The tubing from and old blowgun (He reaches behind the bureau and produces a huge blowgun, easily a foot larger than he Mother brought back from her last hunting trip to Zanzibar. The lenses were the lenses she had given me for my stamp. So I built it. My telescope. A telescope so I might be able to see. And... (He walks out to the porch.) and...and I could see! I could! I COULD! I really could. For miles and miles I could see. For miles and miles and miles! Only...
You take the time to build a telescope that can sa-see for miles, then there’s nothing out there to see. MA-Mother says it’s a lesson in Life. [Pause] But I’m not sorry I built my telescope. And you know why? Because, I saw you. Even if I didn’t see anything else, I did see you. And...and I’m...very glad.
Typed by: Jeremy Mash 2-16-06
 693° 
IrieSide
Dear love,
we're on track
to paradise
 477° 
Zachary Gorenstein
I couldn’t believe in you
I couldn’t believe in me
A just denial

A simple trust
A loving tree
A just denial

A greater pain
A grandiose game
A just denial

A sharp knife
A sleepless rain
A just denial

A boring name,
For this loveless plain
A just denial

Remembering it all,
Remembering the decay
A just denial because I’m ashamed
 460° 
Isabelle Emily
Look at the stars
&
Look at yourself
They are made
For you and me
From us and we
 410° 
Ramana Tandra
When the mind
Simultaneously meets with odds
Overflights a hope of
Cool breeze of discretion
.
When
Truth is beaten
Brutally by the world
When
This world is
Wrapped by isms
.
When
Fake and dual face
Is treated natural
The true stature
Stood as a question.
 385° 
The Vault
I would love
To love you forever
Until the sun explodes
And forever and ever.
 344° 
nivek
silence is stronger than hate
silence beautiful sings

hate destroys itself
worms into victims

the worst pandemic
Mankind could face

so sing poets
sing of love sing for us
 337° 
Christine Ely
I feel betrayed by the quiet moments;
they used to be my saving grace
the time I’d use to steel myself
for what comes next.
Today the quiet moments
are turning on a dime-
they’re fuel to continue driving
or they’re fuel to the flames.
Doesn’t help that the thought
of quiet conversation
makes me discretely nauseous
(they meant it as a promise
of relief!)

I’m floating in the quiet moments,
awash in time’s vast swell
aching bones a prize of attempt
a wordless, reasonless ache
that I wear tucked away inside my breast pocket,
in the marrow of my very being,
and tucked deep in the recesses of my mind.
Creativity, sure-
but useless pain is the easiest to write about.
...and the most difficult to present without it sounding incredibly overdramatic.
 264° 
fearfulpoet
these hard words

are the only fruit my hard-rocked soiled-soul produces,
my alliterations secrete no beliefs, quench nothing,
the poems I don’t write are my most successful,
the songs that comforted, now find no-entry orifice

skin cold wet clammy sweating unsuitable for tilling,
my horizons natural, felled, underground swallowed,
replaced by the man-made barriers, guardrails of words
leaving body, utterances shoutout, exiting non-permissioned

lurch from one guilt-carrying, black leather-straps wrapped,
round my arm, to the ones strapped around my temple,
honorable acts owed, responsibilities fear foundering
unfulfilled lists, griefs, signs of cowardice, badges shameful

deep sighs, open groans, me mean asking questions of myself,
laughed off, city noises turned off, silences of colorless colden,
the sirens loudest inside reverb endlessly, still give nothing away,
a final exam, an all sided, annual checkup reveals nothing but


these hard words

7:48am 10/15/19
 263° 
Kurt Philip Behm
I like hitchhiking
because it’s clean…
Its ending not restrained
by false beginnings
The future more indentured
than the past
With freedom wrapped inside
this very moment
Each car another chance  
—to say goodbye

(Dreamsleep: October, 2019)
 246° 
Jeffrey
Act Accordingly

Forget that which was said

and that which was done

by whom for what and why

and perhaps embrace

even  within yourself

that which you have not loved


squeeze,

      from every last second

a joy that drips

                 down your hands

as it over flows  

                     your cup

because with so little time

left

there is no concern of tomorrow

or yesterday


what freedom you now have



Today is your last

act accordingly

(even if it isn't)
 233° 
OV
J2
Late at night
We hide under covers
Our bodies joined as one
Moving to the soundtrack
Of our raging hearts
But this is like a band-aid
To you I don't exist afterwords
Until you're itching to take it off
 204° 
sandra wyllie
it’s because it’s pouring
in my heart. If you don’t see
the pain in my eyes it’s because
the shades are drawn. They’ve

had to be to live in my
reality. If you don’t hear a word
from me it’s because my tongue is
tied inside my cheeks. If I don’t reach out

to you it’s because my shoulders
have fallen from the weight I’ve been
carrying along with me. You can take
stabs and guesses but you’ll never know

what it’s like to be me.
 192° 
Marla
Beware of forgotten pasts
that hide behind shallow masks.
Their masquerade is a treacherous game
meant to strip you of any and all chance.
A friend, a foe, a vision of lies;
give them your fortune
and see where they lie.
Et tu, Brute?
 181° 
Apekshya Basnet
Down by the willows
under the river currents
amongst the sunny highlands
lays the nest of the blue jay
swept by the airways
she swirls and dances,
she prances and jumps
until she hears the loon cry
in the summers of minty july
 157° 
Sarad Maharjan
Will you be there?
When I lag behind.
Hoping someday
to leave all this mess behind.

Believe me when I tell you this,
I've tried everything.
Devil's the witness!!

Still on my last breathe
stuck with a human heart.
My eyes wandering around,
and you are nowhere to be found
but only in my heart!
this is the poem for my grandmother...just trying relate to her even after years have passed...
 133° 
Donna
Life goes by so quick
Got to enjoy good days and
deal with the bad days

❤️
Make the most of your good happy days and just have to somehow get through the not so good days **
Life’s experienced x
 117° 
jia m
they said,
first loves won't come true.
then tell me,
why am i here
holding hands with you?
 93° 
Jun Lit
Butterflies are guides
Where trees cheer and air is fresh.
Our navels point there.
 90° 
Coy Lion
27
27
To most it’s just a number
To most it’s birthdays, anniversaries, and joyous events
To some it’s a painful memory of loss
A simple number with a lot of meaning
A simple number that once brought you happiness now brings sadness of something that once was
A once meaningless number
But now a number you’ll always remember
 85° 
Steve
Because the earth’s round
Doesn’t mean it’s  having a ball.

Because waves crash
Doesn’t mean that they aren’t in control.

Because the sea is deep
Doesn’t mean that it’s thoughtful

Because land meets the sea
Doesn’t mean that they agree

Because you float my boat
Doesn’t make me the captain.
Five little ten worders to ponder.
Katarzyna, you passed me, on legs so slender,
beautiful ! –– guess you are really tender
at peaceful moments, sitting with me,
sharing a sofa most comfortably,
and I know from the glances and words so few
        between me and you
on the pavement and there, in the bakery,
that you might be such a good friend for me!
 81° 
Somon
If forever
Meant
a minute
Spent
with you,
I'd spend
every second,
Wishing
for two.
is it
or is it not
what I request
sometimes actually
is just not the best.
Colors swirl beneath eyelids
Humidity in the atmosphere
Raindrops in vivid dreams

Another restless night
For a restless soul
Filled with hopes

Wide eyes
And blurry scenery
Birds sing and crickets chirp

Why are you not there
Almost nonsensical
 74° 
Infamous one
Able to post site was not acting right
Felt like it robbed my way of life
Days writing in my notebook
Silent on hello was neglect
Glad emotions aren't going haywire
Feeling more stable with some control
Able to speak with some say
One day at a time doing fine
Work hard to stay focused
Peace in mind over piece of mind
 73° 
Amiènne
Folding, unfolding
Time curves, serpentine embrace.
I blink, and you're gone.
Another year nears its end...
 73° 
max
our fairest princess
has surely run away.
she's joined our pretty prince
and together they stay.
up in the stars,
conversing with the clouds,
running wild, running free,
her wings, making his, oh, so proud.
rest well, my lovely. may you sleep peacefully
why is it
that this day weighs heavy on my mind
though nothing special has occurred
except the usual bad news
     of deaths and fighting and catastrophies
     greed and abominable politics

my private life is safe and fine
remote from all the global strife
it runs a fairly pleasant course
with just occasional disturbances

could that weigh heavily on my mind?
Blind to the beauty of the world,
he tenderly takes her hand
and brushes a kiss across it,
then blushes at his boldness.

Whatever she cherishes, he pounces
on to rationalize away into the ether.
It is Mars vs. Venus of the spirit.
But when blindness drives him
further inward, Venus invariably wins:

Her love cannot abide the boor,
the bore, the shamefully bold.
 66° 
Akshay
These words are for me,
For I'm the one who's hurting,
I'm just healing myself.
I often wonder why we can't understand other's poems sometimes, but deep down it is the one who writes it knows the value of it.
 65° 
frans
Listen to the silence
Let it tell you these things
Be inspired and dont let it **** you
 62° 
Shelster
It comes uninvited
I don’t have to be alone to feel it
In fact I’m surrounded by people right now and It’s there
You see these people are people
Not connected to me
And I do have friends
But I don’t feel gotten
I have my front to fit in
A side they like so I keep it there
But I’m not me
They don’t see me
For if they did then I’d truly be alone
— loneliness
 60° 
Tekan
She lay there, silently, in the stillness of her bathtub.
Slightly smiling as her in-sides heat up
While the water wraps it self tightly around her body.


She lay there, silently, in the stillness of her bathtub.
Deeply inhaling the oasis of tranquility, then
Slowly exhaling into complete serenity.


She lay there, silently, in the stillness of her bathtub.
and with one last sigh, she softly says goodbye.
Then suddenly
She sinks into suicide.
 58° 
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Explanation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect
I love you all!!
 57° 
N
It is morning time
The air feels crisp
Time to tidy up
There's so much to do
The baby squalls,
Alerted of the noise of the vacuum cleaner,
He needs some attention
At last,
Things can wait
These are the glory days
as they say
"Babies don't keep"
and children don't stay little for long
 56° 
yasmin
Because sometimes,
paper is the only one
who listens.
 53° 
JR Fay
Autumn Haiku

It is dying time.
The leaves are giving way to
the end of summer.
Words that echo the way I move through every season. Be well, Poetry Friends!
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