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 250° 
Michael Marchese
Seal me in a cell
Of serendipity
Dismayed
I feel the flooding
Wishing well
Of anonymity
Betrayed
You know my name,
Control my brain,
Made me exclaim it
As I came
And in your absence
I am rapturous,
A ravenous
Despair
And in my sadness
I am avarice
A fathomless
Nightmare
The prey ensnared,
The barely breathing
Sense of freedom
Self-deceiving
There is only
Bound volition
Inclination
To be yours
A blind ambition’s
Snap revision
Of my book
Of nevermores
 126° 
Décio
I return home the same way the waves return to the ocean:
after breaking.
 103° 
TheIdleOwl
42
The pain is gone,
The pain is gone,
I've finally found a friend,
I can count on.
 95° 
Timothy
Link:

https://youtu.be/yEF-8DzHYyE
https://youtu.be/yEF-8DzHYyE
 78° 
Luke
I went out to find
Some value in me,
So I sold what I had
For little a fee.

My eyes for a penny
I sold to some fools,
They're blind and useless,
Mistook for jewels.

My lips for a nickel
To the sweetest sin,
So they'll know the love
That has never been.

My ears for a dime
I sold to a lover.
To hear sweet nothings,
And silence uncover.

My hands for a quarter
I sold to a ghost,
So that she might feel
What I've wanted the most.

Finally my bones for a dollar
I sold to the earth,
But as for my soul-
There was found no worth.
 48° 
Persephone
She lost herself in strength
In the idea that she needed to be mighty
to be great
Forgetting that holding herself in gentleness
Adoring her curves
Basking in relaxation
Was just as powerful
 39° 
aeth
im not wanted here anyway.
 34° 
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)
 25° 
Misha Cayne
One
One. Baby. Is. Both. Underqualified. And overqualified. To lead. Human. Progress. And. Fund. Ethical. Technologies. To. Fight. Evil.
 24° 
Hussein Dekmak
Plant a tree,
Water a flower,
Preserve nature.
Have a purpose!

Feed a bird,
Cuddle a pet,
Be humane to animals.
Have a purpose!

Save a life,
Nurture an orphan,
Stand up with the oppressed.
Have a purpose!

Count your blessings,
Recite your prayers,
Contemplate the universe.
Have a purpose!

Nurture your mind with ideas,
Fill your heart with the wine of love,
Dress your soul with the garment of kindness.
Have a purpose!

Hussein Dekmak
It took some time
To let you go
We grew apart
And you let me know
And we’re better apart
But I still want you close
It took some time
To let you go
 20° 
Monika
When his eyes don't light up anymore on seeing you
 19° 
M
You know it all,
but you just don't know.
I knew it too,
at least I thought so.
 19° 
Joel M Frye
To my friends
who can write
fresh-smelling
bouquets of words
with splendid color,
I offer my envy.
Mine are the blunt, stunted words,
rooted in the cracks
in pavement,
or forcing their way
to light around
overbearing rocks.
Some useful
in their own way,
edible or flavorful,
some with a
pedestrian beauty,
but few that one
would bring home in a bunch
with a box of candy.
More appropriate
in a grimy, young fist
crumpled in love,
destined to be vased
in a water glass
by a doting mother,
or shredded petal by petal
for the sake of soothsaying...
he loves me, he loves me not.
The beauty of your words takes my breath away some days.  Thank you.
 18° 
fray narte
She was an art,
but she wasn't the type
you'd find in museums
or the type that would
make you feel profound things
in your chest.

She was an art
tucked in hidden pockets
of a faded yellow dress.
She was an art,

slowly sketching herself
out of existence.
 18° 
Bird
She
She does not ask me
May I be there
She does not ask me
If I want her
She does not ask me
In the right time
She does not ask me about the day
She is just there
The fear
 17° 
The Wonderess
Sticks and stones
May break my bones,
But words will never harm me?

Sticks and stones
Will break my bones
When wicked words
Disarm me

Sticks and stones
Can’t break my bones
When my words raise
Up an army !
 17° 
Nelida Evelisse
Why do I feel numb
Watching the world
Listless in sight
Because I only see it in black and white

Colors are washed out of my eyes
And every light in me has died
All I see are smiles as frowns
Because I only see them upside down

Love songs don’t have any meaning
For a person who is trapped in their mind
Love can attempt to come my way
And I will just glance and walk away

Storm clouds cries and fills the ocean
But my salty tears competes with emotion
Filling the ocean ten times till tomorrow
That the ocean will be overwhelmed with sorrow

In the end,
I try a superficial smile
And try to fool myself for awhile
But as much as I try
There is nothing left inside
Because everything in me
Can’t seem to come alive
For those who suffer from mental illness, I hear you and I know.  There is help and above all hope.  You are strong, keep fighting, you are worth it.
 17° 
Richard Shepherd
Grant me the knowledge
to know what I write
is palpable
and not contrite.
Bless my brain
with rationale.
Expunge any trauma
from the birth canal.
Allow this poet
a little slack.
Permit me to write
and never look back.

 15° 
Luna
you say my writing is
beautiful
but you forget that you’re
the one
inspiring it
 14° 
Potato
She
She sang a song
of ice and snow
and dreamed of oceans
swaying slow
She swam through clouds
and flew near stars
Fell so proud
and dove so far

She was a sad harmony
A song she unsung
A silence unheard
A deed undone

She hummed a tune
of fish and birds
and bore with devotion
The beasts she herds
She swam through life
and flew from death
Fell from strife
and dove bereft

She was a sweet melody
A smile she unsmiled
A violence in violet
My hope she defiled

She sang a song
that twists the mind
and played my emotions
Leaving me blind
I swam near folly
and flew through sin
I fell in love
and dove right in
 14° 
Jarene
because of you
when feel defeat  
i now bleed black ink
to hello poetry:
thank you for giving me an outlet. a place where I can speak freely when i am at my lowest, in the darkest place i can reach. thank you for giving me a place to i can put the thoughts that i cant comprehend in my head, and making me realize I'm not alone. i cannot thank you enough!
 14° 
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.
 13° 
Dead Rose One
<>

No, He said.

I want you
wanting.

I want to taste the miracle of your desperation,
need,
lick the sweet sweat of tense from the hairline well hid
on the back of your pleasuring neck.

I need your needing constant completion,
but not succeeding.

The airborne aroma of your desires are fiery, arousing,
stimulus sensating me by the unending beauty of dissatisfaction,
this virus desirous, infection, makes my perpetual wanting  
for an incomplete perfect woman,
forever seeking betterment,
perfectly complete.


<>
11-15-17 11:51pm
mixed up emotions re this one; who is the striver, who is selfless   and/or selfish;  can be understood in many different ways
The angels' harps play a sacred tune,
while planets dance around the moon;
In subtle strains our spirits rise,
and leave us grateful and starry-eyed.

Recalling life as it once seemed,
this vision floated inside a dream;
In many days of endless chants,
the angels' harps cause us to dance.

When voices touch each other's hearts,
there's always a sign creating sparks;
And with that strong secure emotion,
then lives connect with pure devotion.

No longer chilled in fears of life,
all folks fly far away from strife;
The added wealth of kinship stands,
as children sing while holding hands.
 13° 
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.
 12° 
Damien Ko
lol
so you're an e-girl
havin fun online girl
patreon subscribe girl
premium snapchat girl
I'm that white knight
asking you for nudes type
saying I'll treat you right
crying about Chad type
I'm the niiiiiice guy
i love a little degeneracy
 12° 
Maka
"What colour is my heart?" she sings,
And as her voice soaks into me,
I feel you slink and coil yourself around my heart.
At first it felt like you were meant to be there,
But the longer her set goes on
The harder you squeeze.
"What colour is my heart?" she sings.
I know the answer.
My heart is black and blue,
Thanks to you.
-I can't listen to jazz anymore.
 11° 
Gemmawrites
Sometimes i wonder do you
Remember me like i remember you.
 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° 
solus
gently
so gently
you pulled the
threads loose,
set me free

but the relief lasted
barely a moment -
you tied me to
you, chained me,
and even after
you decided
you didn't want me
anymore

you left me
with the shackles
and the bruises
and the empty bed
and the sheets
that still smell
like you.
 10° 
daizy
please dont kick down the door
my bloods still all over the floor
its red and pink
i cut my hair, its in the sink

please leave me alone
pain in love is all ive known
let me cry
but dont let me die

i miss you and love everything you do
but you cant see me now, im just so scared of you
 10° 
onlylovepoetry
Save My Soul, (But First), Rub My Feet


thus a poem auditorialy conceived,
but!
the sexuality of the deceiving dualities,
irritates erogenous, exogenous perceptiveties,
plethora of intensifying variables, a not-serious,
harmless remark yet bring us to myriad of
marauding reversals, add-venturing into harm’s way…

much to discuss, but this
topic bettered by much
trading of traditional bantering
brevity bettering our wordless battering
insinuating, sensational signals bring
us backwards & forwards
to an exploratorium of wide boulevards

back to new unfamiliar venues,
narrowing alleyways & places we were before,
places before we were before where,
no unnecessary commas to separate,
distingué, distinct
tween the instinct of old and new,
an uncommon commonality experiential revisionism

now I understand what you said to me,
a tenderizing of
the sole synapses directing
the brain, the old ooh ‘s, aah’s
reigniting what what lay dormant,
at long last,
by opening doors to alternations,
ven diagram of digressing yet intersecting
old & new pathways,
from the souls of her feet,
to, too, two,
we become diamond
on souls of our heat
Tue May 30
4:42 PM
 10° 
Jonathan
We chased a feeling
not a reality

We both wanted someone
So desperately
that we found each other

Even though no part of
us
worked

Our pieces didn’t fit together
so we pressed and jammed them
until they were stuck
and stayed that way
Until
we broke

-red flags
 10° 
Nat Lipstadt
(Ain’t “They” Great!)

Now watching 13 year old grandkid live-on-streaming-Internet,
playing Little League baseball in California, pleasantly surprised,

No, not by the amazing technology, or his super great play,
but the laugh-out-loud accommodation to the “au courant”

Game announcer, a soulless robot machine, stupid-smart, without exception, employs THEY pronoun for all, which after 10 seconds thot,

of serious reflection is a brilliant deflection, a solutionary salutation!
We come to see kids play ball, care not a whiff (double entendre),

re identity politicized insanity, machine makes everyone truly equal,
robbing stupids of a phony, proclamation of self-righteous “individuality”

God Bless No-Brainers!
Ain’t They Great!


~Postcript~

Introducing a newly Recomposed Natty:

still an OWG
(old white guy)
but now a Proudly, a gaily machine-made, in the USA

They.
 10° 
Chris Balase
I only have 5 minutes
To spare this poetry
Here it goes:

5.
I do not wish to be seen
Said the old man in me
So leave me alone
Cause I don't want to be

4.
For I've been running away
This is what I hate
And I envy everyone else
Who are not in the same fate.

3.
What have I become?
Where will I go?
The questions are left unanswered
And I've searched high and low.

2.
To be strong once more
In my world full of doubt
To be strong while I lose
In my latest bout.

1.
I wish I had more time
Just like before
I only have 5 minutes
And I wish I had more.
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