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 Dec 2016 Lesa Renee
Mike Essig
Waking to the sound
of pounding rain
is like hearing
death do a drum roll
before a hanging.
Nothing to do
but step onto
the trap door
and prepare yourself
for the drop.
 Dec 2016 Lesa Renee
Mike Essig
Don't be so ******* yourself.
The holiest of mysteries
may be bafflingly simple.
What is redemption if not
rising from your bed
into the broken world
of human flesh and struggling
to imagine how to live
and what to say?
Isn't that wrestling with angels?
Isn't that staring down
that burning bush?
Isn't that calling the forbidden
name of G-d out loud?
To try it every way,
knowing clearly you may
never quite get it right,
but persisting in the challenge
each and every day?
Don't be so ******* yourself.
Redemption may be
only a morning away.
 Aug 2016 Lesa Renee
Slur pee
This song has always reminded me of you,
Even in the short months when you were plastered to my sky
Blinding me with your ephemeral light.
I guess it was the pessimist in me,
Predicting tragedies and crushing fantasies
Small enough to snort up my slimy nostrils.
Oh, how brightly you would shine then-
How fiercely you would burn.
I had been cold for so long, born inside a prison of ice
Where the only thing that would circulate was
Distance and Loneliness.
You warmed me, allowing my body
To feel a pulse of happiness
That it had never known.

You let me experience a sunny day
Only to fall out of my deep blue and roll into the ambushing darkness.

How quick the sun can drop away...

You left me stained with years of memories
That can't be erased, they stay lingering.
And this bitter taste engraved on my tongue
Will be what I expect from any form of love.
I know, one day you'll be happy without me
But I'll always look to the sky with the deepest of longings
Only to find that it's dark and empty.
Heavy rain washes over me,
In waves of grey and black.
This is all I see,
All that I am
All I'll be
Without you, nothing.
Empty, lonely, pathetic nothing.
Walking through fields of clouds and moondust,
Kicking up corpses of hopeful wishes and love.

-SLuR
https://youtu.be/cs-XZ_dN4Hc
 Aug 2016 Lesa Renee
Mike Essig
Dulce pomum quum abest custos.*


He loved her
like his own death.
The one thing
he could hold onto
when all else
went away.
 Apr 2016 Lesa Renee
Mike Essig
Over the course of 64 years (and still), I have encountered so many women (including my still lovely ex-wife) in person and in writing who struggle with their looks. It seems to be an eternal theme that crosses generations. So, I decided to write this humble piece in reply.
There are some who would say I can’t write about women’s feelings because I am a man. A patronizing old, white man. I note their objecions, but I disagree. I believe humanity always trumps gender.
We live in an artificial culture created and controlled by advertisers. Not only do they sell us stuff, they convince us that we need it. Women are perfect targets for them.
So they have created impossible standards for women to live up to. You must always look like you are 25, young and thin. They tell you this is the key to being desired, even loved. As it’s impossible to be young and thin forever, they just happen to have the products that will “help” you. They want your minds so they can profit by manipulating them. They do a great job of it.
So the key to loving your bodies and yourselves is to take back your minds. This is difficult. You are bombarded with a barrage of words and images that say you are not good enough. If only you were younger, thinner, shaped like Barbie, not greying, had longer legs, bigger *******, wore a size 2, you would be happy, and — of course — men would desire you. You would never be traded in for a younger, sleeker model. So many insecurities to exploit.
But consider the difference between beauty and Beauty. Beauty is human, individual and eternal; beauty is abstract, mass and reliant on current tastes.
I have known many women of all shapes, sizes and ages who were Beautiful. That Beauty was expressed from their hearts through their faces and eyes. They radiated it. It was not dependent on my or any other man’s approval. It just was. So I know this can be done.
Fashion changes so there will always be new things to sell. To the current ad masters, the Gibson girls of the late 19th century would now be called fat. Sell them a diet plan and gym membership. The angular loveliness of the Venus de Milo too cold and boyish. Sell her cosmetics and plastic surgery. Mona Lisa, a dumpy Italian girl. So many things to sell her.
And then there is that intense desire to please men that begins with daddy. I often hear its echo even in the strident voices of the most ardent feminists. The advertisers trade on that. That’s deep. That’s very hard to overcome. That’s both an individual and a cultural problem.
But many women never seem to consider that a great many men aren’t dumb enough to buy the 25 and thin forever image and don’t really demand to be constantly pleased. They might actually be looking for intelligence, heart, affection and respect instead of a perfect ***. Not all, often not the young, but many.
At some point, you have to say no and mean it. You are not your age, dress size, cup size or waist size. Those are just outward manifestations of the true you. If someone rejects you on the basis of such ephemeralities, you are better off without them. You have to take control of your soul. No one can give you that except yourself. You have to live with yourself just as men have to live with themselves. Again, humanity trumps gender.
I unabashedly love women. They have been one of the great delights of my life. I love the difficulties and the differences. What a woefully dreary world it would be if men and women were they same. So, it pains me to see so many women in so much pain.
You are, first of all, a person and that is worth insisting upon. Insist. Demand. Escape, if necessary. Be the only you you can ever truly be. Then you will feel pretty. And you will be as pretty as you feel.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5dbshnvztGA

  ~mce
 Apr 2016 Lesa Renee
GaryFairy
i tried to stay true to the unity
tuned to every opportunity
i found my ruins in the mutiny
loose stone of the community

such a crude and brutal fluency
the futile fruits of lunacy
the pulled roots of my truancy
grew away from my community
I am submitting this in a poetry contest. The theme must be "community". Ten prizes of 500 dollars. Somehow, I just don't think I will win. Lol.
The house, when empty,
feels like a moseleum.
Everything is dark.
It is strange, how literally I can feel the heart tear.
Pericardium and myocardium,
ripping with the slow, tough **** of time and waiting,
atrium and ventricle split.
Far away my brain turns in on itself
as I stare at the candy on the road,
left from a Christmas parade,
Defined by the things its left behind,
though they lie unwanted.

My soul has fled to the wilderness
birth pangs of grief beginning,
prepared to deliver a stillborn heart,
As another star falls out of my sky.

It will go dark, I know.
One by one fall, without wishes to bring them back.
I stare at my sister's golden hair
and dread the day when she will be the one lying white,
bloodless
in a hospital bed.
Oh my mother, Oh my father,
are you to fall away, too?

Light. I scream, I need light.
But I will not throw bits of glass at the sky
to pretend I have re-lit the stars.
I love you for reasons that can't manifest
into physical forms
The ethereal pull of love within me
is beyond reasoning or control
But you asked for reasons, so I'll do my best

I adore your hair and how completely it captures my attention
Your eyes lock me in paradise, so full and wanting
Your form and frame like a comic book heroine, commanding my attention
And ****! Your thighs just keep me alive within my fantasies
You redefined beauty for me
You created a new measure by which I held others
and none other could ever measure up

-[But that doesn't touch my love for you.]-

I love how we play when we both feel safe
I love how you flirt with me
I love more than anything how delicious you taste
Never have I bonded with someone
on such a chemical level
Your skin, your smell, your taste, your curves
all of YOU commands my nerves
You light me on fire and dominate my desires
You are the only one that I ever want
Your smile and seduction have captured me completely.

-[But these aren't reasons why I love you.]-

I love you because my heart, my spirit, my mind, and my physical body
all convene into one known truth: I cannot live without you.
You bring a peace and wholeness to my life.
You create within me a singular hunger that knows only you.
Everything that I am wants you and only you.
I love you, but not because you are beautiful.
I love you, but not because we fit together.
I love you, but not because you're the best I've found.
I love you, but not because I no longer want to search for another.
I love you, but not for any reason I could list.
The reasons follow the love, not create it.
My love transcends above mere reasons
What I feel for you is beyond reason and description
It is a desire to live or the need to take another breath
that happens because the body needs it
...because it's *right.
We never learn a true definition of love because it's such a complicated idea simplified down to a single word in English. It's a shame to neuter such a broad idea that defines so many lovely parts of our existence. What I learned as "love" could easily be different from what someone else learned as it's definition. We all learn from others & make it up as we live and grow. We get hurt and we redefine what it means to us. We get broken and we guard ourselves a little tighter. To some, it may be easily defined, to others, those same definitions failed us.
For me, love is not defined nor labeled. It cannot be trapped within examples and metaphors. It is felt and experienced, unavoidable and incomprehensible beyond its very existence and effect on my world. I /know/ it by it's complete control of my existence, once captured within its embrace.
 Mar 2016 Lesa Renee
NV
 Mar 2016 Lesa Renee
NV
What I am trying to say is,
I am well aware that it matters not whether I am with or without you;
I will keep moving,
but I much prefer your limbs with my limbs,
and I enjoy the tragedy you think makes you unable to be loved,
and I'm sorry I didn't touch you a little bit longer,
and when you're here I feel it,
and when you're not I feel it too.

by : Alexandra Crawford
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