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Claire Marie Aug 2016
Of what do you write
If not of man's greatest hope:
That is, namely, love.
Man was created in God's image and likeness and thus man was created to love and for love. - Theology of the Body
  Aug 2016 Claire Marie
Mary Alexander
Indirectly,
Timidly, yet
Clearly
Making plans and
Testing waters.
must resist the urge to burst into song every five seconds.
  Aug 2016 Claire Marie
traces of being
although we may not

physically reach out

and feel , hand to hand ,

across far distant dimensions - -

Poetry is touching souls
though I have not been publishing much...I have greatly enjoyed the intimate sense, imbibed through quietly reading some amazing work

Thank You !
  Aug 2016 Claire Marie
Melissa
it's not that special

what i do

because all i do

is put down

words

that sound cool:

nacreous

adulation

effervescence

narcissistic

imbrogli­o

divine

haphazard



there's no rhythm

in what i say

all i'm doing

is breaking

lines

and adding

s p a c e s



sometimes

(yes, sometimes)

i put my words

(in these)

in things we call parentheses

and sometimes

(yes, sometimes)

i repeat myself

and call it

emphasis

(emphasis)



on occasion

I might rhyme

but that takes thought

and that takes time

cat, hat, bat

late, hate, date

fat, gnat, mat

mate, fate, eight



sometimes syllables

can help your flow sound better

much like a haiku



if i talk about angst

death, love, and self-hate

(cliche topics)

it's deep

but my favorite

poem i ever

wrote

was about bacon



and god forbid

i capitalize

because that would mean

it didn't look artsy

THIS IS NOT OKAY

Neither is this.

no punctuation

at all



people say my poetry

is beautiful

that I follow all the rules

but I didn't know there

were rules

to follow

really all I do

is put random words

random phrases

in random patterns

and call it art
  Aug 2016 Claire Marie
Something Quiet
My friend cut his hair.
Many weeks ago.
His hair was long,
But now it's short,
Much shorter than before.

My friend cut his hair.
It's softer to the touch.
I pat his head,
A gentle tap,
He didn't like it much.

My friend cut his hair.
It used to hide his eyes.
I see them both,
Like pretty jewels,
No longer in disguise.

My friend cut his hair.
It makes him different now.
His eyes light up,
His smiles are warm,
As warm as he'll allow.
A friend of mine used to have long, shoulder-length wavy hair and he got a haircut just before the summer holidays. I saw his new, much-shorter haircut in person a few days ago, and the change was so great I couldn't help making a tribute to it. A transition like that can really change a person.
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