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I'm really scared,
I fear bugs and flying insects,
But they are not my biggest fears,
I fear worms and spiders,
But they are not my major fear,
Even if I sum up all my fears,
Everything I'm most scared of it still can't compete with one,
The fear of You,
I fear that one day you will become we,
I fear that one day we will become three,
I fear that one day three will have a dog,
Such beautiful fears I have of you,
I'm really scared,
That one day you will walk away,
And leave me fearless.
twice by god's accidental interference,
our crash vehicles, super sized shopping carts,
connect, we are manger-penalized for unnecessary roughness
and disturbing the supermarkets peace

what better way to judge character than to examine
a single persons shopping cart  contents?

all organic, milk, heirloom tomatoes, even the Chardonnay,
grown upon the farms of the island and vineyards on
the forks that shelter the isle from the ravages of the Atlantic

Hebrew National franks, yellow mustard,
very classy brioche buns, a six pack of Corona Light,
and funny colored, funny looking, rusted russet potato chips

with a tremulous smile, and an overly loud, derisive sniff,
pronounces me dead man walking sooner than later,
to which, I respond,
then, teach me, where shall we dine tonight?

later that night,
after a thousand kisses of her fluttering eyelashes,
she props herself upon an elbow and
in a tone sincere and caring,
extracts from the poet promises of
natural exclusivity

from now on, healthy, natural only, organic and pure,
from the soul soil of our shared habitat

her suntan skin, garden-digging hand, I clasp,
softly climbing on top of her,
announce with total genuine sincerity and solemnity;

I swear it, from now on, all my loving will be sourced locally

rewarded with a laugh and a gentle but hard enough,
garden to table (with her free hand), head smacking,
I noting nod, good naturedly
that both the laugh and smack,
as well,

sourced locally,
sourced lovingly,

which then seeded
this new only love jointly authored poem,
planted in our mingling blossoming crashing

5/29/17 i
Ulysses the man
Ballet is beautiful
timed to music
and limbs

with grace
and skill

to perfection
the human
Eight years today bro
It seems a life time ago
Always in my heart
and me,
we are,
unified souls,
simply, united,
an unbreakable set,
underway, sailing,
like ship and sea,
this two-way street,
and me,
we are,
us. [one].
XVI. Committed
Son of golden soil
इस जींस पर काले कोट की क्या जरूरत थी
तुम्हारे तो नैनों में ही वकालत का है हुनर
अगर कोई चला गया तेरे दिल की गलियों में
बह जाएगा धाराओं और दफाओं के समर।।
Leave me alone, I will prove them wrong.
In the absence of the best, I am the best.
I am the last resort, in the worst I am the best.
Leave me alone, I will prove them wrong.
Leave me alone, it will not take so long.
I will not sleep, I am the best in the absence of the rest;
I will not sleep, nightmares encourages me to do the best.
Turn on that music and go, I will prove them wrong.

Extrovert dude when you are with an introvert say the deal and go.
Extrovert dude, introvert creativity is on the darkness.
Introvert dude let us in, do not keep the door locked.
Some say together we work, introvert says yes but go.
Staying together is not team work, sorry for leaving you in the darkness.
Introvert dude turn on that music, it’s time to keep my senses locked.

Written By: The Senior 5/08/2020
I want to write that in front of every achievement
I want to write it at the head of every poem I write

And I don’t think I will be able to create anything
At least, nothing I am proud of
Without an asterisk explaining
This is my depression work

For depression affects everything
Infects everything
Dims my worldview and
Makes me irrational, hypocritical and
Turns me into someone I am ashamed to be

Depression takes away half of my once-brilliant mind
It leeches off my creativity
Drains the enchanting, poetic optimism inside me
Until everything I think, everything I create, everything I am
Disgusts me

Just as a reminder
This is my depression work
amber blue
I sent you a dream,
a dream of home
I never had

Bright and welcoming

And you answered
it looks like a movie scene.
Hands steer on their own.
I don’t know, I don’t like having
high beams near trees.
sorry, you never asked.
Ears listen as you talk of
small and blank days
pushing swings with legs.
It could have been anyone.

you talk over the faint
melodies playing near me.
please, know that I’m trying
to turn the key. Ignition into G.
Em isn’t for everyone, but it’s what
uncolors their knuckles white- until
I ask them to
unfold one-by-one,
each finger’s frequency.

please, don’t accuse me
of severing the nerve endings.
Hands open on their own, after all.
I happen to be driving you back home-
you’re the one deciding
to kidnap yourself
with peppermint patties or
a denial dalliance.

Oh do tell, why am I the palm reader?
I silent. Eye reads the road.
I merely point my side
mirror towards you.
M S Barthe
new poems
Dead silence
Shaking like static
Dread poet
breathing hence
the post-traumatic
Star Dust
she has kissed the lights-
all night.
it's alright

i have looked at the waning moon,
it's like a bitten apple.
the clock strikes 12. it's midnight.

so  she draws the curtains
right now I want to kiss her in between the thighs
while she is waiting for the sun tonight
i want to kiss her all night
hear her moan
while i kiss her
in  between her thighs
Sometimes you have to let yourself get hurt to realize that you are alive.
and just like that
everything has changed.
the dandelions blew away in the wind,
leaving only a photo of our adventures.
the meaning behind our song,
has changed completely.
the upbeat tune replaced by lonesome words.
I realize this
is the end
we will become
strangers again
and we
won't just
    but we'll
      thrive till
        we're five
           and make
              peace with
                 our hearts
                     till we're
                                   and my
                                                            will talk
                                                                   to the
                                                                          sky and
                                                                               we'll drift
                                                                                      through the
                                                                                              night till
                                                                                                      we're free
the first time i broke a boy’s heart
i cried as i watched his love bleed for me
it poured out into my hands and still sticks to my hair this day
i smell its death in the wind

now, i break hearts with no pain, no remorse
i watch the light flee from their eyes and i no longer cry
what it’s like to be me?

feel nothing
create chaos
feel nothing
The love you never had
The pain you always carried
The trust you never showed
The guilt you were consumed by
The joy you were seeking
The anger you held inside

The rest of them could never see
But I did
Because I was once like you
Rupert Pip
You catch life
one tear at a time
to one day
fill an ocean.
I heard you liked short poems, so here's one for you.
I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.
6 months self harm free! Writing about it helps fight the urge
5 angels on earth are hard to come by
7 luck is now tangible i tighten my grip
9 as the fruit of your spirit
0 brings wholeness and infinite love
beth haze
We clashed like the stars
in the galaxy and
became one.
- black dwarf.
I guess it was time for our shine to run out.
Easily built.
Easily broke.
its okay
if it is

i don't need you anymore.

so love and be loved my friends!

i am glorious
i am golden
in my heart i am loved

you don't even hafta pretend
to like me

bring on your anger
bring it on!

because i am loved
by myself
and that is golden
really guys, there is nothing more powerful, more healing, than loving yourself. you will all get there one day friends, keep hope in your heart and you will rise up! <3
Peter Balkus
Poets remember
snows in July
and sweaty heatwaves in December.
Wistful moonlight blush
Accents the dim of sorrow
For life unfulfilled
Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived
David P Carroll
When I first saw her
On that Summer's day

Oh I never felt this way
It was love,

As my heart started to

I saw her beautiful face
Falling in love so quickly

Yes it was true love
She took my breath away

Oh I had to say
It was love at first sight

What I seen she was
An Angel from above
I'd falling in love..
I Love Her ❤️
it was a nightmare —
a night i wish to forget.
you laid your eyes on me
and i looked back at you.
i tried to force a smile
but you told me not to.
i tried to hold your hand
but you moved away.
tears fell on my cheeks, and
you told me you can’t stay.
what happened to the eyes
that kept me lost yet found?
what happened to the touch
that kept me safe and sound?
what happened to the dreams
we tried to reach?
maybe you’re just another lesson to me that life is ought to teach.
and i learned so well.
i looked down
twenty three stories

tears in my eyes
legs shaking

every intention
of falling head first

you see— i was just so tired
of having to land
on my feet
so many people
are so tired
of having to be so strong
Alexandra Eames
i can only sense
in the words i read
knowing i'll never know
but by my mind's eye

-By Alexandra Eames
for a poet i have read here.
Why does it always feel like
no one's listening
when I talk?
I'm never loud enough..
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

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
I wear makeup to work,
So people treat me better.

I work with fish.
I get covered in slime.
I don't make tips.
(Not that, that is acceptable)
I have a fiance.
I'm off market.
I'm not there to impress anyone.

No makeup.
I'm ignored.
My credentials are questioned more.
They pick fights.
They behave poorly.

With makeup well,
I only have to deal with one creepy person.

I wear makeup to work,
So people treat me better.
luna imagery
Once there was a boy
Who stood in front the mirror
For so long he drowned
He was gasping for air but
No one saw him but himself
I fell in love with candlelight-
in my darkness, she shone so bright.
She danced the breeze, lit up the night,
her glow consumed my very sight.

But wax and wick both burn away,
and candlelight just cannot stay.
As sure as night turns into day,
that fickle flame will go astray.

But for a moment, through the storm,
she lit my world, she kept me warm,
then flickered out, as is the norm
for candlelight, its fleeting form.

I fell in love with candlelight,
for but a moment, all was right.
Her glow, her dance, consumed my sight,
and faded out at end of night.
seeing you makes me wonder what we could have been
your bright eyes are angelic, piercing through my iron skin.
those moments make me question, if we could have worked
if only we tried harder. if only we were more open.
but then I wonder if what I'm missing is you,
or if I'm just missing the feeling.
just a few fleeting moments
Rupert Pip
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
She said,
“I wish I had done something special,”
“Like saving somebody’s life.”
I looked in her eyes,
And simply replied,
“Oh but my dear,”
“You did.”
Chantell Wild
are you real?
you are behind that screen
but no more real
than a virtual being.
Part Time Poet
If I fell silent for days...

...would you miss me?
My stint as a poet continues...
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