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 Jul 2018 Logan
Kelsey
I never knew the best way to initiate *** (or this poem for that matter)
I'm either completely submissive or surprisingly dominant
There's not much in between

I first kiss you slowly
Like an old fashioned movie
Spreading your lips
With my lips
Enter the realm of unknowing

When my tongue embraces yours
My heart beating, uncontrollably
The warmth of you breath
The dampness of your mouth
Positively suffocating

Without another thought
Our clothes begin to come off
Your hands hidden within my hair
We are as we were born
Selfish and bare

Lead me into the darkness
Where the only sense that matters
Is touch
Shield my broken body
Speak unspoken love

Bracing myself
I hold my breath
As I pull your body
Closer
To my chest

Like a well known dance
Your hips move like fire
I melt loudly between the sheets
I am vulnerable
To your desire

Lay rested on your back
For I am protector of the nest
I can hear you breathing
Harder
As sweat trickles down my breast

The time has arrived
I close my tired eyes
Because its darker
And more familiar
As I arch back to grip your thighs

My whole body is shaking
Yours is too
And when it's over
Your breath is softer
My mind is now anew

And when all is done
And we've restored our sight
My closed lips
Kiss your closed lips
And we both respond "goodnight"
 Jul 2018 Logan
Ain
Words....
 Jul 2018 Logan
Ain
Words words and more words....
Empty meaningless weightless words....
The patent words the jargon words....
The sugar coated fake spurious words...

At first they are the mirthful words...
Slowly transform to blithely words...
The words that heal and the hurting words...
I’ve lived with them all kinds of words...

But words are just but only words...
No life no feel no bleed these words...
The love and dreams and hopeful words...
Are but just only laboured words...
As zephyrs tell their tales of woe,
with longing to sweep the trials;
Of innocents watching from afar,
while climbing across the miles.

In ruination they must take heed,
of clamoring soldiers at the gate;
As heroes march in bold display,
spreading miracles from the saints.

Standing tall and windswept now,
the children grasp the leaves;
Enthralled by eerie missives blown,
in ragged layers of words received.

But when the scrolls unravel with,
those stories not yet revealed;
Their grandest secrets will lay bare,
for generations to toss and repeal.

But if their meanings keep at bay,
the callousness of our sins;
Our future lies in layers which,
seek to awaken each life again.
 Jul 2018 Logan
eleanor prince
I'd see that face that savaged nights
Picasso’s artful effigy scowls
on plate glass windows
high rise grimaces
mock

Is this for real, for he's sailed on
beyond deep seas to places wild
do clouds stoop down to part
stop searching vapid
drive

Or is this his iconic stride
dark overcoat pulled high
winds snatching imprints
left behind in harried
haste
sometimes in a crowd a face is seen that stirs remembering - not always in a good way
 Jul 2018 Logan
Derek David
Night's chill parried by
Tea or tobacco leaves
Slick gradient of a sky
Until housing cuts rough
Disguising true horizons
And their warmth of whatever within

Flanked by twelve houses
Built by twice the hubris
As to be within speaking distance
Of this village of backyards
Yet communicate
In the alien language
Of light switches.

Bedrooms are fireflies
In an open field of brick flora
Backdropping the safety of
All of our bad habits
Struggling as we like
We share in the disconnect of
Our wrought ice age
Marked by the jingling of keys.
There's more here, but that will be found at another time.
 Jul 2018 Logan
False Poets
there is no value in a poem that reads
_____
_____
____­
M M l i f e s u c k s x x x n o p o e m i g o t

just

nerve; crap bs, a denial of craft

seek the intelligent intelligible,
kiss the sensational thrill that
emotion harvests with resonating tenses
that beg our brains to differ, sense

this claims,
there is no value in no words is
a hoax cloaked as art by the weak,
make thy metaphors metastasize,
my every cell, a preposition,
preposterous and precious and
comforting in their
privations and provocations

speak to us in alpha and
line our eyes wide,
with pictures at an exhibition
of a faun immobile and beauteous

let me hang on every word of yours and
let it be the raft that sees me happily
unsafe home

take your bs line poem  
shove it down your silent voice

this is not avant garde; this is insulting

p.s.  write me a smile and all will be_____
.
 Jul 2018 Logan
Tori Barnes
a year in review
I reread all my haikus
there's less about you
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