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 Mar 2019 Beth Bayliss
Karliah
Often I wonder,
To what end is your touch?
How can your fingers,
Still gather and refine,
New threads of my soul?
At times I wonder if he's even real. And then he is and I don't know how to love him proper.
 Mar 2019 Beth Bayliss
Jim Davis
How to poet a life away

Toss the trite learned

Skip grammar mostly too

Rhyme or not is all yours

Step to drummer unheard

Believe in life yet untold

Read a thousand times

More than you write

Live, so you will know

What you are talking about

Take wild leaps in mind

Without losing it too far

Write not only about love

Although that’s all there

Really is or really is not

Fall in some love also

More than simply once

With not only your words

But others in thought

Wishing to poet too



©  2017 Jim Davis
 Mar 2019 Beth Bayliss
Drusila
Oh ... but you’re a tragedy!
Upon one glance you see,
only see darkness in his dark brown eyes,
He tries to conceal it

But certain truths cannot be denied

When I stumbled into him
The cold of his eyes slowly my ticker paralyzed
I would love him for most days
Ignorant of the grey that involved him

It wasn’t love expressed in the most loving way history has ever been told

But oh boy, oh boy
That man was a tragedy
He would freeze me in his embrace
And let go almost on my second last breath
Thirstily murmur the tenderest words poets ever spoken

Though it was only poetry if professed by him

The wildest spirit I ever knew
Couldn’t be borne by no carnal form
that would be taken in this life

My sweet sweet woe
Do not grow any fonder within me
I won’t say it was love, but I would love you until the sea creatures needn’t the ocean to survive

If it’s love, let me pursue it
If it isn’t love, let me ordeal it
And enjoy the most pleasurable suffering that no pains ever caused

This cloying woe I would endure for the next three lives, possibly more

— The End —