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 Sep 2016
spysgrandson
if I spoke truth, but painted no picture,
I failed
 Sep 2016
Hopeful Ponderer
Invisible strings
Connect the distance
Between us.
You're my heartbeat.
 Sep 2016
Sawyer
The green monster crawls up my back,
Worms its way into my brain
Until my thoughts are no longer mine
Infection corrupts every perception,
Polluting my mind
With lies
And illusions of justification.
I am wrong,
But I will not stop.
I am not allowed to stop.
I am at the mercy of the monster,
The relentless clutch of envy.
 Sep 2016
LeV3e
You don't make me cry anymore.
When my mind glides by your amorous glow,
Our past no longer slows my rhythm.
You struck a chord, and our light diminished.
A musicians sword, cuts like a prism.
This prison I've put us in,
Is no longer fitting,
For rainbows arch too far from tradition,
And a white dress only fits on a ******.
It's urgent that,
I spell check my wording, cause
My inner workings are always flirting with
The idea of falling for you again.
 Sep 2016
wordvango
with dripping elegance
the Venus' Pride
the False Indigo
with proud long stem protruding
the Blue Curls dew
covered extend
roadside curtsies to all
who pass by
dancing
like cultured pearls
in the morning
light.
 Sep 2016
SE Reimer
NEW YEAR INTROSPECTION PART THREE

first read "Audition" by Lauren Rogers:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/audition/

far too often, 
audition i, 
my self i daily 
place on parade,
call it a model’s runway 
or an actor’s stage, 
all the while forgetting 
already i’ve been given 
the part of *"me"

having already been deemed
most uniquely
and completely
qualified to play
and having already been voted
most likely to succeed
as an actor of me!
and most of all
having already been handed
the writer’s script,
a whole ream, all blank page
for me to write
and then perform
for each of you
on life’s beautiful stage;
which, begs the question...
who called the audition?
Post script.

inspired by Lauren Rogers, actress, poet, and as of today, a new contributor to HP with her first HP poem: “Audition”
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/audition/ a beautifully written poem... may she succeed in her every endeavor!!!
 Sep 2016
r
A crowd has gathered
in the home
of the unknown poet

a house of smoke
he calls it, but the poet
left for another affair

his gallant wife
descends the stairs
and shows no misery

while the guests read
his work sniffing
over their peer glasses

and with no regrets
whatsoever the poet's wife
drives a dagger deep
in her pale breast

as the poet is laughing
and dancing with ******
the guests at the table
place their orders.
Questions?  No more than four, please.
 Sep 2016
Nite
Woke from a surreal dream
To find that everything's **real
I still can't believe that it's not a dream. :)
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