In a back alleyway
so dimly lit, he found me
In a bar out of the way
in a corner, he found me
Pacing beside a raging fire
ready to step forward,
he found me
Lost in my own ire
speaking calmly, he found me
Kneeling in the cold darkness
heart sore, he found me
Waiting alone, in my starkness
he pulled me home, he found me
He found me hungry, he found me needing
He found me alone, naked and bleeding
He found me cold and offered warmth
He found me vulnerable
and offered his coat
He found me in a place
I never really wanted to be
He found me only because
he lived there with me

Did we not just sit together
and dine upon thy own hearts?
Did we not just sit across
from each other
as we fed upon
each others 'left alone' parts?
Did we not just sip upon
each others open vein?
Did we not just smile a ****** grin
and decide to not assign blame?
Did we not just pick apart
the carrion of the past?
Did we not just lick our lips
at the end of a remarkable repast?
Did we not just sit together
and enjoy just chewing the fat?
Did we not just dine together?

*I doubt that...

What a hearts thinks?

What it really feels?

** L O V E
         O
         L      
         A
         T
         I
         L
         E

Where I sit is an empty place
a space full of no meaning
a seat that is reserved for one
devoid of any feeling
Where I sit is a lofty stoop
characterized in concrete
just a single placed chair
a place to put two feet
Planted upon unforgiving ground
and rumored to be true
where I sit is a lonely place
but could be shared, by two

sigh*

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mybittersweetpoetry/310830505705043?sk=timeline

Your work may be there too :( I hope not, it's so soul destroying)

From the above Facebook Page

Sincere Apologies posted August 22 belongs to Brittney Anne
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/825832/sincere-apologies/

Loving  You of Loving Me posted August 15 belongs to Teema
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/586571/loving-you-or-loving-me/


Her Mothers Perfume Resembles Her Anger posted August 14 belongs to Abbey Cole http://hellopoetry.com/poem/811713/my-mothers-perfume/

and there are more from here...

Just Ask A Good Woman She Knows Pain Beyond Limits posted August 11 belongs to Jeffrey Conyer http://hellopoetry.com/poem/389501/just-ask-a-good-woman/

and I could go on and on but it seems everything they have posted and claimed for their own comes from this site...

Just had to file a DMCA takedown with Facebook because this person removed all my comments but not my poem!!!

All their work is stolen from here so make sure you go and have a look to make sure your work is not there!!!

I ******* HATE these parasitic people!!!!

he walks softly down the hall
pausing only long enough to stare
at the empty piece of wall
and pictures no longer there

he traces his hands softly
gently stroking an invisible face
that he had memorised so fondly
but disappeared without a trace

he ghosts down to the bedroom
tripping over spectres of the past
as one might perhaps presume
he takes each step as his last

it still all looks the same
nothing has been touched
trails of nothing refuse a name
inelegantly scribbled in the dust

stepping back, not turning around
ghosting past the missing frames
on a wall as empty as broken ground
just waiting for the remains

You write the most beautiful words
for the woman in your life
I get it now, I'm such a cow
I only see destruction and strife
I'm lying right next to him
just now, as I write
he doesn't know
I'm twisting the knife
I want to be that woman
so proud, so bold
but in his eyes I've grown
so bitter, so cold
except I've had to weather
such unexpected plans
that all I can do
is look down
at my upturned hands
palms out in supplication
raised as a defence
ready to hold against a cheek
that doesn't take offence
I read words from such males
that hold a vow so sacred
and epiphanies become true to me
that leave me standing raw and naked

Dinner is ready my love!
Is it? Well get me another beer *****!
Stalking to the refrigerator
past the knife block and the empty
bottle of wine, both are mine
except then you say
Hey! This ***** cold
and the argument grows old
because I called dinner 45 minutes ago
then
in bed
you rolled over
and said
*I love you

My mother always said
when you hand over a knife
you should always hold it
toward someone, with the blade
in your hand
but it's a little hard
when the blade is slippery
with my blood
and I had to use the handle
to pull it from my back

I have a neighbour, he's going on 98
I don't really know him but I don't hate
how he gets up every morning at 6am
and rambles in his garden even when
I'm trying to sleep late
I walk my dog around my neighbourhood
and people nod and say hello
but I'm no more interested in their lives
then a passing glance and smile
as I walk towards my humble home
I live amongst many lives
that fracture against themselves
they may be semi religious, or zealots
but I could never tell
Just as I walk these streets
uncaring of a Diety
I couldn't give a single thought
to if you went to church this morning
I couldn't care less if your knees are bruised
from going down in prayer several times
I don't give a passing flippancy
If you woke this morning at 10am
and your first drink was Wine
I don't particularly know my neighbours
except for passing smiles and nods
I don't particularly care for religion
and I don't care to know God

Don't give me your abject phrases
or your artfully placed sighs
Don't give me your diluted praises
that leak from your blinded eyes
Don't give me a disjointed speech
that starts with the letter I
Don't give me verbations that leech
from your ever loving lies
Don't give me your pretending
because I don't believe in that ****
Don't give me your never ending
*I'm never going to get it!

In the silence of the raindrops
as we lay together on the tide
I'm affected by the thunder
as you slumber by my side
I want to reach out to you
and let the lightening arc
I want to throw my body
over you, to shelter you
from the dark
I want to let the rainfall
be the rhythm that enhances
I want to let the thunder whisper
the intricacies of our dances
I want to let the lightening speak
of our most profound intimacies
I want this unusual occurrence
to be about just you and me

Just a twinkle in the night sky
A yearning to be someone
A sparkle in the darkest night
Your journey has just begun

Peanut…
Longing to grow into your long held dream
but at just little more than heart and soul
your sudden appearance holds me in thrall

Tadpole…
Swimming in a safe haven
developing on the wings of dreams
you start to understand what it all means

Little Human…
Longing for the world of open spaces
waiting to arrive, you see, you hear, you feel
to bring a touch to a life you can heal

Miracle…
A breath, a cry, held tight against warm skin
bursting into life with little fanfare
all your senses become aware

A shock of hair, a cupid smile
a perfect name to suit
an amazing gift from the Tree of Life
my precious Belly Fruit

© Helen Doogan 09/09/2010

I just want to wrap my hands
around your neck
and squeeze too hard for so long
that the petechial hemorrhage
that burst like an exploding universe
in your eyes, cries me a river of blood
My fingers simply twitch
to slap you for your travesty
so your head whips around
to look back on yesterday
I want to lay you down
like a spike strip on the highway
of my nightmares
so you can share the feeling
of being run over at 60 mile an hour
just so you know what it's like
when people stop to stare
at the car wreck of life
I want you to be the test dummy
of the most ill built car
and watch your spine snap
as you hurtle into space
at the dead end of a trap
I want you to be the fish
with the hook stuck in your gills
floundering, ill equipped,
unprepared to breathe air
I want you banged up, mangled,
discombobulated, eating dirt
and when you try to take
your next breath
you may know a fraction
of my hurt

When you are sitting at the bar
4 hours past midnight
It's not a pretty sight
Where nothing little nobody's
predicted in their field of pleasure
and the acres of green grass
chose at their own leisure
Goats and sheep for upkeep
like raiding a tomb for treasure
Sitting at the end of the bar
watching the byplay like ESPN
voicing Hits and Misses
and deep end missed plays
it's easier to stay disconnected
when you're just calling the game
except, at Last Call,
when all the goats and sheep
found someone to meet
to take home to make hay
and your just sitting,
sipping your tonic and gin
all you hear is
Hey! Last Call!
you can't stay, for another day
you go home alone
goats and sheep aren't your thing
but you think it's amazing
that you heard the bells
Last Call
you missed the play

Death came to me at just 15
my brother never made it home
He died as a simple passenger
a car accident victim, not alone
It came to me again at 27
my cousin who became my brother,
lit himself on fire, literally
because he had no other
but he was married, with 2 kids
she had left him earlier
you could still smell the burnt rubber
from her skids...
It came to me 6 years ago
when my Dad succumbed to Cancer
the big C, to see him weakening
was a blow, but he started to know
God at this time.
It made me angry!
First to recognise his Athiesim
Second to see him succumb
Third to finally see him bribe
his way through remaining time
What do you know?
perhaps God recognised his crime...
Death comes to me
every time I read the news
It hits just as hard
as if I knew
each and every soul lost
even though they are just names
written on paper
I think I might know death
just like you do
I mourn, but prefer
It waits for me
*Later

True story, word for word*

17 year old Son
calls his Mum

and says

Can you stop
at the shops,
and buy me,
a pair of thongs
and a box
of condoms

I'm so sorry guys, it seems this is never ending.

Here is where I've found new stolen poems

http://www.experienceproject.com/

The user is http://www.experienceproject.com/about/marklovescoffe
(you may need to create a free account to check his posts)

and he's posted

Flying Fingers ~ Pamela Rae under I Wonder Who Reads My Stories with no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Wonder-Who-Reads-My-Stories/4785328

Know the Beauty of a Woman ~ Cataleya with no link and not only that, in the comments when he was congratulated for a great write he said 'Thanks mate'
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Know-The-Beauty-Of-A-Woman/4693147

new link 1 Release ~ POETIC T with no link and his comment was it was from his soul
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Love-To-Write/4781292

new link 2 I Am A Writer ~ Madalyn Beck no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Am-A-Writer/4631574

new link 3 A Kiss Upon a Blank Page ~ Kalypso no link, comments claim it as his own
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Kiss-Upon-This-Blank-Page/4577880

new link 4 A Thousand Colours ~ Amrutha no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/F-I-Could/4534117

As you can see, I could sit here all night and point out the stolen poems however, I will now just encourage everyone to visit this link
http://www.experienceproject.com/about/marklovescoffe
join the site (it's free) go to the left hand side menu and click on Stories and see if you recognize your work (you will know the instant you start reading the post!) Then give it to him with both barrels! Like I said in my notes, I'm almost certain they are a member here!

Please share!

**i have edited the links in here because he has changed his user name if you are looking for it, he dropped an e off the end... because we are sooo stupid....

As you know, over the last couple of days, I've posted some about plagiarism and stolen poetry.
Plagiarism is a disgusting practice. It undermines the whole art of writing, be it novelic or poetic or any other kind of writing where the author has pieced together words that are their own. To copy and paste and present as your own is sinful and most colleges and universities (and the whole literary world) takes a dim view of it.
So, this is one simple tip, in the age of the Internet, to ensure your work is not claimed by some... wannabe!
Take a line from one of your poems, just one line (the more obscure the better) open google and go to the advanced search. Paste that line into where it says 'search for exact phrase' and review the matches. It will show exactly where on the Internet is has been posted or shared and you can check out whether you have been acknowledged or not. I've had poems shared on the WWW and have been happy to be acknowledged but have also found sone unauthorised (posted in the name of others) where I have made it known they breached copyright...
Take care of your writing my friends... it's the one true part of you :)

Hey guys

I have found several Daily Poems from this site being shared externally with no acknowledgement to the rightful owner :(

Head over here....

http://thepoetryden.wordpress.com/author/thepoetryden/

and if you find your original work there then I highly encourage you ask this person to either a) link the poem back to your original or b) remove them from his site. He claims to be a poet and is misleading people by not putting original names/original links to the works he is posting!

Go through them carefully as the titles of the poems have been changed.

Please share this because I have read at least 3 poems from this site from 3 different people over there with no acknowledgement to the original author!

Update ~ Sept 6th 2014 ~ You are NOT going to believe this. I found Shane Linville on Facebook and you will never guess who is one of his favourites! Chris G Vaillancourt! That's right, the very same well known plagiarist from days gone by at HP. He was such an insidious piece of work

*******! Not the way I'd like to see my name next to a Daily Poem but getting the awareness out there is a nice thing too :)

Opposed
September 03, 2014 Daily Poem

Locking Lips

"I swear when our lips touch,
I can taste the next
sixty years of my life"

Above is an excerpt from Rudy Francisco's Love Poem Medley

http://lit.genius.com/Rudy-francisco-love-poem-medley-annotated

I highly doubt Opposed is Rudy Francisco... The poem of the day today did not acknowledge the original writer or poem only stated in the notes
"Thank you for selecting this as the daily poem! :)"**

It's ok to seek the elusive 15 minutes of fame as long as it's YOUR fame to celebrate...

for Sally A Bayan

Once upon a time, a lovely young woman met a young man beside a pond. They both stood feeding the ducks absently, not really looking at each other. The young woman, in her eagerness to feel what she was feeding, stretched out her fingers to stroke the feathers of the nearest duck but it was further away than what she anticipated, and she fell into the pond. The young man reacted by casually removing his shoes and socks, rolling his pants legs and gingerly stepping his way into the pond to hold out his fingertips to grasp flaying hands and bring the young woman back to the grassy edge. Embarrassingly, she sputtered her thanks and asked if there was anything she could do for him, *anything she said....
He asked if she could clean his pond stained clothes, she replied...
No, but if you don't mind the stains, they now match mine.
He looked away and muttered a goodbye.
The man on the other side of the pond watching her but couldn't get to her in time, whispered...
I would have thrown myself head first under you just so you remained without a stain, alas, I was too far away.
As he rounded the pond, and stood next to her, she repeated the same mistake and fell head first into the water, wanting to feel the softness of the duck but, this time, she added no new stains to her dress because two strong arms grabbed her as she fell a breath whispered in her ear...
*Don't stain your pretty dress again trying to find softness, it's holding you, right here...

I don't know what it's like to want to die
but I know what it's like to watch
I know what it's like glance at the hours
waiting,
it's like looking at a clock
that goes backwards and the cuckoo
that would normally come out to play
pokes it head out and announces
"There is no time today"

I don't know what it's like to wither
I know what it's like to cease in time
staring at the wall is fascinating for you
but all the same, I'm watching that wall
and waiting for you to be sane

I don't know how it feels for you
but how about how it feels for me?
I don't live inside your brain
but you don't exist in there,
independently

I don't know how it feels for you
I know how it feels to me
we both don't want to open the garage door
you see rafters that could make you fit
I see gone my forever more

I won't pretend I know how you feel
when you cry so inconsolably
If you don't ever try to forget
I was there, to dry your tears
the tissue shredded
by more than your fears
I don't know how it feels
but I do know what I see
*I ask you to see me

did you know?
That at 15 years old I was *****
in the back of a car?
I was not alone, next to us
lay another couple, limbs entwined
like mine, but no tears were found

did you know?
For the next 5 years I had ***
with any boy that said to me
I love you because, *** is love...
right?

did you know?
I only really fell in love once
in a life where love is rife
I fell in love with a boy so completely
wrong for me
but made me feel.... nice?

did you know?
that boy gave me back my voice
helped me scream into the void
and sat and held my hand
as the screams echoed back
inside my head and made me
understand, how I had a choice

did you know?
that boy became my universe
my sun, my moon, my dark, my light
who gifted me little star babies
that feature in my dreams at night

did you know?
The boy became a man
became a agitated, muted clam
after careening head first into flight
remembering that he had others
in his life, he needed to fight.

did  you know?
that 26 years later
that boy, who became a man
and saved me from being a hater
lies next to me in a sleep
that escapes him most of the time
He slumbers as I massage his scalp
whispering how I was grateful
for his help at such a crucial time
how I was happy to find
someone that didn't just want
to take advantage of me

did you know?
He's mine

August started out like all the other months, there had been so many
The highs and lows of many seasons
saw my pockets spent of just a penny
Saw my recollections stacked to amount to rubble,  just prized as memories
And pieces of puzzles, ill fitted together, produced gaps within my psyche
Crossroads bring me to a full stop
I'm haunted by the ghosts that linger
Pointing this way and that way, back the way I came, demanding I stand

right here

But I've been down this road before

It's littered with the pieces of me that died, and became just carrion
But like a Phenix, burning deep inside
I flicked off the ash and moved on

Singing my Swan Song

and     I       cry

Your drugs don't let me sleep at night
Your love just leaves me cold
The road I took, just last lifetime
Left me broken and bitter old

Better luck I find, on an old but familiar road, I may have walked it all before
*But I left the story untold

That was fun!* she cried as she clapped her tiny little hands. Her long red fingernails clicked against each other as she bought her hands together, making a sound like a beetle scuttling across the ***** concrete floor. It echoed in the almost empty space.
Lets do it again! she whispered and the smile on her face eclipsed the gloom in the cavernous waste and the echo of her laugh rose to the high corners vibrating in the long forgotten cobwebs.
He lifted one eyebrow at her delight and the corner of his mouth twitched but he remained silent at her joy.
He turned away and after careful consideration, chose his most favourite piece of apparatus, and came around slowly as a strangled moan caressed his ears and the sight in front of him lit into his pupils, staining them red.
She draped herself over his back, her fingertips lightly caressing his chest, he turned his lips to tickle her earlobe and asked,
*Which finger, or toe, next my love? Or perhaps, I could give you, their heart?

We both knew it would never be enough
when we both tried to walk away
We said our goodbyes to an overladen sky
if only one of us had tried to stay

We could have laughed, we could have  cried
we didn't have to say goodbye
Only both us did know
when the tears fell to the snow
there was nothing left to try

Then summer came
and thawed our hearts
we both started again
A river flowed
and a conscious glowed
New beginnings became an end

We laughed, we cried
we forgot where we started to be
we lived
we'll die
forgetting it was you and me

So please don't forget me
as the river starts to dry
my tears are never ending
unrelenting from my eyes
So please don't forget me
Even though we said goodbye
We tried...
*we tried...

Are you okay?

No

Oh,
well,
have a nice day...

love, love, love, love, love, love
an endless litany
It forms the rope
that hangs
love lost, love found
love that just
hangs around
Love
the bards sang!
Love
the poets wept
nursing broken bones
Love
the tired sheep bleat
love, love, love, love, love, love
so endless is the night
without it
so heartbreaking to live
without it
so cutting can it be
so masochistic
don't you see?
love, love, love, love, love, love
if you don't have it
you uninvited it
continually writing
about it
brings it back
*not one bit

lah de dah de dah de dum
lah de dum de dum de dah
lah de dah de dah de dum
la dah dum de lah de dah

they called it a stroke
even then, I understood
but I never got the answer

You never spoke again
so I interpreted for you

*My journey has just begun
I travel, but not far
My journey has just begun
You must stay where you are

The whys or where's
nor the for art thous
or the perhaps now
I know not
the love me nows
nor loved me then
or even the when
I know not
the cerulean sky
nor the indigo goodbye
or the softest sigh...
I know not
when words tried
nor when the rhythm died
or Poetry became a lie
I know not
the how's or wherefores
or keeping score
but
I know when
love of something
begins to end
bleeding from lacerations
bashed against rocks...
*I know then...

I reveled in the smell of sulphur like that of a struck match. Then I remembered I gave up smoking 2 years ago.

I saw everything you did to me, the cut of the knife, red blood dripping down my legs, my heart beating in your fist. Yet the only intact thing they retrieved from the shallow grave was the blindfold.

You touched me lightly on the shoulder, I thought you woke me for a kiss. Then I remembered I already kissed you before they closed the coffin lid, 6 months ago.

I always smile when you speak to me in German. It's the last language you learned before you died in 1942.

My dog is always able to tell me when we weren't alone, he'd wag his tail in Hello or he would growl when a stranger was near by. He's growling now, even though he died, a year ago.

I screamed at the oncoming light! I wasn't frightened until I realised you had tied me upon the railway tracks.

I wanted to wear my Mothers wedding dress. Even I can't remove the dirt stains.

I sit in the corner of our bedroom staring at our bodies entwined. I see you tilt to the side, to text message your girlfriend, while I'm oblivious.

They used to embed bells above ground for those that may have been buried alive. Mine is missing its ringer so I just continue to scream.

I removed all the trees from the side of the house. Still the scratch at the window keeps me awake.

Married in White, Buried in Black. I continue seeing you in shades of Gray.

You don't give it?
Why should you ever?
When has a rats backside
warranted your time?
Like...
           *Never

It sat empty for so long
the lines became so faded
Memories drift as half sung songs
and reality became jaded

One stoke, two,
a half formed thought
three words, four words
a sentence fought

a think bubbles appears
behind my eyes
exploding with images
my mind denies

another scratch upon the page
another crumpled piece of heart
start again, all over
but these images never depart

All I'm asking is you spill dark secrets
Upon a crisp sheet of white
and if ever you see Red blended
know I didn't lie that night

I wrote a poem for you, it cried
I painted a picture but it lied
I made a movie of still images
complete with the music I bled
Still, it left so many things unsaid
It wasn't enough for you
It wasn't enough for me
The path unspoken, forever broken
is so easy, in blindness, to see
Another day, someone's heartbeat
washes up silently upon the shore
beached upon an unforgiving earth
they think of Life no more
Each battle scar carved upon flesh
in a moment of Self Flagellation
is an answer to a deeper question
beyond our own imagination
I see you curled upon the floor
I bleed for you, I've been there before
You feel like its not worth it
This Life you have been given
But before you cut it down
Why don't you try living?