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you passed by the river
and the reflection was cast on
my curve of bank.
the current
lost it’s strength at the mouth
like words whispered in defeat.
were it not for my knowledge
of those who have drowned
i would be breathing the reeds and water
and beating against the overflow.
i think it’s human nature
fight for something
for the only thing we know.
Oskar Erikson May 11
slip pin g  out of vie w
                                  the words elude.
  so keep there
the                 eyes
at paper or/// screen till the sentence---- rushes into sight.    
              break it.
                        ^^                  butcher it.
     keep it.<<      >>  analyse it.
  toss it .                                         kiss it.

where w a  s it?                  was it ee ee e even here?

a tremor in the night
awoken without the memory
(all poets say is a million different "I can't love you any other way.")
of a line i wanted to write.
Oskar Erikson May 11
this thing tastes like copper between your tongue and teeth
taking nourishment
in the sweetened bitterness
of belief.
it’s the unwillingness to      (stop)
imitations                           (one-way)
of genuine
conversations                  (relationships)
love is smaller,
it’s refusing to grow,
you can call it “regression”

but it’s called letting go.
i take shelter in your grooves
growing stronger in the curves
like whetstones smoothing and sharpening me down
to make a fine point

i wanted you to build with me
to push
up gently.

see if this rust
can turn into something beautiful
to see if rust
can be turned to gold
Oskar Erikson Apr 18
to the lovers
who use this site to tell us their stories
"Insert Title"
Your love is magnanimous
is gorgeous pure and beautiful
"Insert Title"
some search for "real poetry" about life or death or something
philosophical, so let them say
"Insert Title"

and as someone who has had their heart broke?
its ok.
this place isn't a democracy, we all don't get a vote
and to anyone who thinks i agree with
"Insert Title"

"Insert Note"
HP is a great community, we write about whatever we want, I love seeing all the ways we can talk about our day to day lives. Its beautiful and rewarding. Write about what makes you happy. Never let anyone else determine that.
I love, Love Poetry.
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