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 3120° 
patty m
Ancient rose, seeped in red fire
an enchantress of love, spreading desire
petals of velvet caress so divine
more intoxicating than ruby red wine.
The lure of her magic
a forever strain
puts love into hearts and excites the brain.
But it's the Poppy those in Olympus revere
losing their sight in her haze
never seeking out the rose so sincere
but keeping her hidden away in a maze.  
Yet lovers would seek her trailing vine
and taste her petals sweet as wine
spending hours beneath her bower.
So the jealous Gods encased her in thorn
so any who came would come to great harm;
stabbing vicious deep and quick
a poisonous ***** that made men sick.
Still lovers wept and sought her spell
for marriages that turned out well
and love that lasted beyond forever
until they crossed the bridge of never
look back, no lack of trust thus
they loved her still when laid in shade
no drop of sun, until her petals fell, everyone.
Then blackbird clouds encased the skies
and the couples joined in plaintive cries ;
All were terribly sad, and worried their marriages
might turn bad.  Hearing this plaintive wail
the Gods began to turn tail, and sent down one
to bring some sun to the forest of thorn.
The sun's warm rays touched sweet vine,
bestowing blessings so sublime, soon thorny forest
did retreat, turning into gardens both tranquil and sweet
and rain did fall in gentle patter, while birds chirped
and squirrels scampered and chattered.
Rain moistened roots beneath dry soil,
softened the earth and ended the pall.
The vine so withered came to life
renewed in spirit and free from strife.
Then petals sprouted and people shouted
as roses multiplied, soon even the shyest
hearts fluttered like turtle doves
when couples touched and fell in love .
The enchanted rose free at last,
smiled down at all that came to pass,
with rosebuds sprouting everywhere,
maidens wore them in their hair and men in their lapel
and all were blessed with happiness,
by the rose who wished them well.
 1661° 
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
 423° 
Marcella Faye
Sometimes,
I numb the pain
Just to feel normal
All over again.
 394° 
Alex
when will nightmares ever stop

when will I wake up from this bad dream

there’s no escape

it seems so real
don’t you love having nightmares kinda often
 317° 
Nina
I got myself tattoed
On the places
You used to leave
Love bites on


The bitter sweet marks
I wish i could relive
But has already come to an end
 240° 
Tom
contemplative
carriages rattle
distant stares
avoiding interaction
cold heat
runs of length
of my spine
soon i will seek to know
details of a life
talking in rhymes
that pass the time
will this be
another white lie
will this be
my time to die
 226° 
Deanne
No words to describe the feelings I possess
No words to describe
How I feel inside
No words to describe
My life
My crazy ride
No words can I write to describe to you
The feelings I possess
Way deep down inside
 219° 
kyss
I, was always freezing
You, kept me warm

Now, I am cold again
 205° 
Faith
I fell in love with you
From across the table
 190° 
Garrett Johnson
I’m gone.

Cured in an alley.
Forgotten by the walls.
Greeted by neon hands.
Seared into the corners.
The ash dances like whirlwinds.
Meeting every beat to an azure strum.
And a calm kiss under the clear night.



Garrett Johnson.
Wear a sweater and you’ll be ok.
 182° 
Katja Pullinen
It's normal be sensitive and cry.
Is not normal be cruel and have stone in the heart.
 169° 
Onoma
rusty dusks

leave twinges

of sunlight that

may not lift from

where it lie again.

shadowed corpus

growing late to rise--

the psudeonymn

of the last stranger.

revealing what was

so perfectly hid away--

delivered by the cost of

articulation.

bared--that's all, who's to

say?

as no one can see what that

bareness saw.
 133° 
Kelsey
"Be good,"
is something that people sometimes say
when they are saying good-bye.

I'm trying to be good.
Since missing you comes in waves,
I've secured a lifeboat
So I don't get swept away.
Instead of drowning in self-pity, I'm going to be good.

You didn't offer a good-bye.
You didn't offer any kind of sentiment such as "be good."
I might not be good yet, but I'm okay.
 129° 
Isabelle Emily
Look at the stars
&
Look at yourself
They are made
For you and me
From us and we
 117° 
Kathy Leigh Mathis
Until you return into my arms safe and sound,
I'm steady hurting with this new pain I found,

I wish I could turn back the hands of time and rewind,
To the moment when your lips met mine,

Assuring me that this beautiful love is meant to be,
I flew so high when you sang your heart out to me,

But until the day you return into my heart safe and sound,
My feet will stay planted on the ground.
 114° 
zak of all trades
You can't always ask
for chocolate drinks
and be served.
You'll sometimes
have to drink
the boring and disappointing
sensation of water
because that's
what is only available
and that's
what is necessary.
Things won't always work out as what we want, but we will work it out with it.
 113° 
IrieSide
Dear love,
we're on track
to paradise
 89° 
The Vault
I would love
To love you forever
Until the sun explodes
And forever and ever.
 84° 
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.
 72° 
Harley Hucof
" He is losing his grip "
- Oh!! Is there a grip now? No body said anything about a grip.

           Words Of Harfouchism.
What grip?
 69° 
carmel
El cuerpo se desnuda mientras el corazón se viste.
 69° 
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
 68° 
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)
 68° 
Somon
If forever
Meant
a minute
Spent
with you,
I'd spend
every second,
Wishing
for two.
 65° 
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.
 61° 
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
 60° 
Frederick
To know friendship
You've got to be a friend,
To support someone's hardship
To be there in the End-
And most of all
Remind yourself,
It works both ways
It takes an amount:
Of trust
Of loyalty
To be a confidant
Without these
It means not very much.
It turns the bond
Right Into dust.
It takes away the essence true
Of me being
A friend
To you.

And thus it brakes the two

Seperation
Segregation
Obsolution
The conclusion?
A Bond that doesnt last.

I had believed
That it was
A bond to outlast time,
But found
It out
Too late,
Are you
still
A friend
Of mine?
 58° 
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)
 57° 
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!!
 56° 
yasmin
Because sometimes,
paper is the only one
who listens.
 55° 
xxx
A cotton candy sunset dream.
A kiss inside of my mouth.
A memory of what was but is no longer
is all I'm holding onto.
 55° 
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.
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
 51° 
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
 51° 
eli
today,
I wore it again
and people complimented me
they say red is my color
and it suits me.

today,
it's too thick and dark
did I overapply
no, it's the right amount
just enough
to make them think
I'm fine.

today,
I look at myself
in the mirror,
and they're right
red shines on me,
so I applied
another layer,
and another
until my lips felt too thick,
but my eyes still see
the scars beneath it.
 51° 
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.
 46° 
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
 46° 
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
 44° 
last rainy night
your eyes still look familiar
but the looks they give me now are foreign
 44° 
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
 43° 
Alex Teng
We fell in love by chance,
We stay in love by choice.
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