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 Jul 2015 Cristina Dean
nivek
I became slave to a ring tone
back last century
and know some take a phone with them
into the grave, just in case
I do not think I have it that bad
but you never know
I will have my number chiselled on my headstone
and leave it up to you
to ring or not.
 Jul 2015 Cristina Dean
nivek
its great being a singlet
with only you to contend with
so do not be too ******* yourself
remember you are just a child
and the Universe was made for loving
 Jul 2015 Cristina Dean
nivek
I sit snug in this landscape
it nourishes and mothers me
makes me feel small and
I touch more of reality
the sheer beauty united
mind body and soul
this is what I came here for
led by love to sit in silent awe
 Jul 2015 Cristina Dean
nivek
Love cannot be overcome
indeed love overcomes all else
Love is stronger than all strength
love abides mightier than steel
love sends its shock wave
and all falls like so many skittles
 Jul 2015 Cristina Dean
nivek
here we write our epic
from first post
to last bugle fading
and all your readers
throw in a handful of dirt
the day you stopped singing
and turn away to their bowers
to continue in this stranger than fiction endeavour
writing out their hearts and minds one big poem stitched together
you used to love to draw, learned how to sketch when you were eight
painted me a sky full of smoke and liquor and told me this
was where happiness would always start
your inspirations were my frustrations said you never liked
my pretty face unless it was full of madness
i guess you're wish has come true because darling i'm a hopeless
addict without you, my arms are designed with the color of
your favorite wine and i know i should be happy, my
skies are full of beautiful blues but i've learned
that pain is happiness when i'm with you
he was my darkest shade of grey, my disastrous tale of love
and what happened after, you were a beautiful mistake
a terrible tragedy you carved your name on my heart and
and made your touch a weapon filled with poison i can't
find the antidote and now i'm searching desperately for all
the pieces but they seem to have all broke
and i know it's wrong to want to have you by my side,
you always made me think i was happy
but i'm starting to realize that skies are not meant be filled with
smoke and liquor and that the world would burn
with your love of fires and hurricanes of tears would
fill your beating heart with happiness and i know that
you're sick and twisted, i know that you are the very
worst thing that could have ever happened to me
and yet i cannot bring myself to say that you are black,
you my dear are the darkest shade of grey
you're a disaster, a canvas that's been broken and filled with
toxic paint, a ticking time bomb exploding every day and
for your love of fires you were gasoline although i'd rather burn
early than die later for i'm starting to find out,
i like my skies filled with smoke and liquor and hate
the way the sun shines you could have the been the worst
thing that had ever happened to me but i know, oh i know
i'm not alone, yes i know that i am the worst thing that has
happened to you

(h.l.)
i like the idea of the protagonist being an antagonist
If you are uncomfortable when you look in the mirror,
keep in mind:
We spent thousands of years
trying to convince the earth
she was flat.

We wrote her maps as evidence of the things we saw;
and she believed them.
She cried tsunamis, and had earthquake breakdowns.

Keep in mind: the Sun never gave up hope.
The earth will keep spinning and breathing
the star-dusty space void of encouragement.

Next time you look in the mirror
and second-guess your potential divinity,
remember you will keep shining and living.

Because the Sun is out there
believing in you,
compensating for lack of the human capacity
to treat each other empathically.

You don’t need proof or approval
to be exactly what you are;
Eventually everyone will see
your infinite beauty.
I'm sorry
I'm afraid I read your poems
Every single one.
(Except not, because I only got half way down before I felt like a creep.)
And I liked most of them
And the ones I didn't,
I refused to like (out of fear of being a creep)

I'm very, very sorry.
Each one I read broke my heart.
Here, I've made a mess, let me pick up the pieces
I'll put them away just as soon as I've said what I need to say
And you won't have to see them anymore.

I'm sorry,
I cried too much
Over absolutely nothing at all
See
I've never met you in my life
But when I read
"Letter to the Setting Sun"
I was hoping the whole time it was secretly about me
Because there are 26 letters all jumbled into different patterns
In that letter
That describe every thrum that has hit my heart since I was 13
And old enough to wish I was in love.

I'm sorry,
I've gone and made a fool of myself
But I thought you should know that your words are capable
Of breaking and mending a heart at will
Be careful with that power, and use it well.
She's a lucky woman who gets to hear the rest.
And no worries.
This is a love song, but not that kind.
But by God one day I'll have a poet like you
Or -- God will it -- one day I'll BE a poet like you.
Sorry... I'm not a creep... But when I read your poems, sometimes it felt like I was talking. Apparently you're capable of saying everything I've ever wanted to say, but ten times better.
Between
“Once upon a time”
And
“Happily ever after”
There’s a perfect adventure
You took for granted
Your heart has empty corners;
You'll never know I'm there.
I just need a place
to rest my weary bones.
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