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Wrote this eons ago, tonight, once more,
spend some human capital, editing...
Something to think about
as we tuck ourselves in.

the young'uns keep on asking me for tips,
secrets, to this art, magical poetry gig,
as if I had any left unrevealed.  

recalled this old'n,
from a vintage poetry year,
as a suggestion,
a stating-starting place,
for young poets:

do not self-chain,
let the words take you
where
they lead, write them up
for the rhyme is waiting,
in the heart chest deep down,
not on the screen.

I read you Goodnight Moon,
Falling asleep beside you.


<•>

People stop rhyming...

When first you overcome your fears,
And dare to put on paper your tears,
Give it up, set yourself free from the shackles,
Of thinking a rhyme is a necessity for a
Rooting tooting writing of a
**** good poem
or a barrel of
crackles

If you feel lost,
Want to share the cost,
Feel not bossed,
By a newbie's need
to believe that if it rhymes
Everyone will like your poem
Just fine

And if you get past this stage,
And advance to the next page,
Do not think that writing down a sentence of
Your mind's first up, innermost thoughts,
Is something that will make you
Less lost, heralded, worthy of a parade,
And be blessed with an A  
In your Teacher's pet grade book

My heart broke.
I feel bad.
I feel sad
Cause my man/woman left me
And I hope
Someone kicks his or her ***

That Ain't No Poem Neither...

And if you can't help but complain repeatedly
How life ***** and you're feeling blue
extremely indiscreetly,
Don't make me try on your scribblings
intimately indiscriminately,
Read a million, even wrote a few myself

You think you can write?

Then employ a word outside your comfort zone,
Go it alone,
Write just four sentences that will make
The hopeful reader stand up and you,
Twice as much, and shout

Hallelujah *******.

Work. Poetry is work. Hard work.
Don't fret. But, think on it.
Let it come easy, then let it rest,.
Then spend days editing every comma,
And when you love it so much,
You are chest busting bursting,
Why have you not pressed Send already?

Have the sweetest dreams.
In the morning, when you but awake,
A poem will be aborning in thy mind,
And dare I say it, you will find a new freedom
In free verse.
(I know you will slip in a rhyme or two,
I can't help but do it too)

G' nite!
Why is that parents plant ideas in your brain as you're falling aslee..............

Just a suggestion....what do I know,
 Jul 2013 RyanMJenkins
Auroleus
The summer of self destruction:
Mars bars serving pints of red death
On the rocks...
Craters filled with miscreants and misfits
Lined with ***** donors and sounds
Reminiscent of the wise and powerless Buddha
Drowning in a pool of *****;
Doorknobs turn counter-clockwise
When the sun hits them from the west;
I crave the raven's guileless depth
As it rips the flesh from off my chest.
I wrote this at night. It was a late night. I have to work in the morning and I shouldn't be up. This is the first thing I've written in some time. What does it mean? What is it supposed to mean? What am I trying to say? **** if I know. I'll buy you a beer and we can discuss it over a beer.
An inexplicable alchemy blends us
and transform, when you are with me;
I am fully filled up by what is 'you'
then, how could'I' be there, it's all you.
Trying to find  (different)  expression to  the delirious state love alone could create...
I sign my name to each tragedy that streams incessantly
I pour the lines with traces of blood
Crimson hues staining my paper
I sign my name to the work reflecting my shame
My guilt
My unproductiveness
And try to gaze more deeply into the abyss that is my mind
I try to dispense the trash that heaps and swells to great heights
Framing the walls I do not dare to climb
For the fear of falling
I sign my name with red velvet petals that wither too quickily
In such short time
Displaying my pain as if it held beauty
As if it were a crime
 Jul 2013 RyanMJenkins
ZWS
It's the most painful thing
To think you love someone
And not really know
Cause the distance is feign
And my face droops from the pain

Oh we're not so old
But we're growing older everyday
And that's why miles are turning into minutes
Every day it takes me to get to you
To make you feel again, alive

All I want, is to find comfort in those caffeine eyes
And relieve the pain hidden behind
Rest your head on my chest
And let my heart sing a lullibi

I just want to know who's heart is going to win this race
Because I don't know if I can pace myself now
I cross my fingers we tie, and cross the finish line
With fingers locked
Cause I'd hate to finish holding my own
But if that's how it's gotta be,
Then so be it

Oh we're not so old
But we're growing older everyday
And that's why miles are turning into minutes
Every day it takes me to get to you
To make you feel again, alive
To look into those caffeine eyes
5: Nice Jewish Boy, Poet ******,
And ****** Of My Own Life

Dedicated to the people
Who keep me company here,
Some in the mid of night,
You know who you are...
and the POlice trooper who caught me
doing 85 in the HOV lane.  Cost me 200+ and 3 points on my entry ticket to heaven

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Listening to Daughtry^
Like ya oughta,
Singing very loudly along
to, and as it so happens, when
I'm agoing
Home.

Long neck Corona
Cooling my sweaty brow,
Top down,
You betcha my neck is
Red, and the officer who just pulled me over
Ain't looking none too pleased,
In fact, he's alooking a little red too!

Officer I said,
Saw that sign,
30 MPH Minimum

Swear I was doing
At least that
Above the 55 speed limit.

He said, it's ok dude,
I like your music taste,
Heard you singing
Daughtry and Green Day,
James Blunt and Nickelback
In the HOV lane,
Maybe even some Buble
I may have heard, as well,
But don't Miranda incriminate yourself!

I like your taste in beer,
I like that you don't use no sun lotion,
If it's ok with you,
I'll just stand here and listen,
And maybe, join you later when
I'm off duty, at the station.

Officer, a nice Jewish boy I am,
Officer, a good ole country boy from the city,
Wear Harlon River's hat when he ain't,
Went out fishing with RRR (r) on his boat,
Woodpecker chaser,
got me a .45 neath my pillow,
And you should see me gut a

Poem*

Slice its belly open,
Sometimes straight, sometimes Askew,
Feed the gulls them
****** insides on the dock, by-moonlight,
Can ya cut me some slack?

Mmm, I see here in your license,
You are a disabled guy,
A **** poet ******,
Who often does his best work
Legally all alone in the HOV lane,
So I'm gonna let you off this time
Just with a warning!

If you drive and compose,
Ya gotta observe the signs posted:

No more than five per day,
Poems can you post

If singing while driving,
Top gotta be down

No writing about drinking,
there are underage children
Reading your wrotes

Finally,
No more sad poems,
The world is way over its quota,
No mention of scars or pain,
Tears, loss, broken or going insane,*
No heart sickness on sunny weekend days,
Got it?

It's a big problem in these parts,
If you see one, report it to the
Poetry Authorities!

Yes sir Officer,
If you give me your name,
I'll slip it in some little
Unobtrusive limerick,
By way of a thank you note,
Cause after all
A nice Jewish boy
I.am.

He said that won't be necessary,
Voyeuring yourself ain't illegal,
Just bad manners.
But if I catch ya one more time,
Using those aforementioned bad words,
And doing 85, in the left lane,
I know where ya live, and
I'll see ya 'when September ends.'
Full of references, enticements, to friends and some ole poems left out in the sun to rust, cause sometimes it be the rusty ones that make you glad in so many different ways...and happy to be alive...this one was gifted to me by Harlon, so I gift to him, right back at ya!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Home" by Daughtry

I'm staring out into the night,
Trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love
And feeling good don't ever cost a thing.
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.

Well I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
Well I'm going home.

The miles are getting longer, it seems,
The closer I get to you.
I've not always been the best man or friend for you.
But your love remains true.
And I don't know why.
You always seem to give me another try.

So I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,

Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all,
And then some you don't want.
Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all, yeah.

Oh, well I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old.
I said these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
I'm going home.
Let me start by saying that you always seem to make my day.
You've brought more warmth into my life than the hottest solar ray.
Your complexion is perfection, in the most literal sense,
If I'm crazy or justified, I'm sitting on the fence.
Should I talk about your lips, how I imagine fingertips, running over them, slowly, as if leaning in to take a sip,
Or how even the simplest text, makes my heart beat without rest,
So fast and hard, it feels like it'll jump out of my chest.
I could really keep on going all day long if I so wished,
I could write you novels based off a shortlist.
But the truth is that I like you. I really do, I like you.
Now tell me that I shouldn't but I really cannot help it, I kinda want you to myself, I know it's selfish, you I cherish,
But I like you, that much is clear.
And part of me wishes that your man would disappear.
I'm sorry, I really haven't slept much,
I'm not thinking straight.
But the truth is still the truth, am I really to blame?
I mean, how can I resist, thinking of your lips, the thought alone fills me with bliss.
That's some crazy ish, yea I made a wish, and well, no wishing well could grant me what I wish. I am just a fish,
Swimming, lost, captivated by precious pools of blue,
I wanna feel your soul, ever close and dive deep into you.
The truest love, you couldn't plan it,
Easily the only one for me in all the planet,
Her love's the kind of habit I could never kick off,
And I swear it's true, you, I'll never get sick of.
It's surreal when I say that you are my girl,
even Webster would be, at a loss for words.
There aren't enough verbs, adjectives in any language,
To show you how I feel and how you relieve all my anguish,
But I think I can manage, to express some,
part of how I feel, I think we make a good sum,
You plus me forever, that makes perfect sense to me.
I think I want to marry you and make some memories,
some would call me crazy, even claim that I'm insane
Well, yea, I'm freaking crazy, crazy for you and deranged.
Does any of that frighten you? Tell me and be honest.
If it doesn't, then I'm ready to make you a promise,
To love you forever and we'll never be apart,
I'll love you til the end, even more so than the start.
If you share your heart with me, you'll get mine in return.
Do you accept all of the conditions and the terms?
No need for signatures or any documents for this,
We can make it real and seal the deal with just a kiss.
Every thing I told you comes from the heart, it's true.
To summarize and put it simply, I'm in love with you.
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