Ek: Favorites

Aug 2018 Ek

Path Humble

Poems on a Mirror

~for Glenn Currier~

you don’t know me
I don’t know you;
poems on a mirror I ken
truly well

poems on the mirror saved, and then,
comme the seasoning of leave-falling,
poems dropping and drained...the post-it glue loosened by
the daily heat of watery tears,
making a space for
this one, for you...

there are poems and they arrive with fresh arrogance,
each an arrow demanding your all as a target regardless
of what the shooter really thinks or wants, other than
obedient acknowledgment and their self-loving flattery

but some render where no rendering should be allowed

those are the ones affixed - ones you chose to join the chosen,
slapped onto mirrors - so many that they almost
cover complete your image from presentation

almost only because these poems are yours, you,
they’re the truly accurate reflection even if not your words,
indeed especially because they’re not yours

but they start your day as a poem should
and in doing so,
become you

What a Hall of Fame, to be a poem on Glenn’s Hall of Mirrors

go pick the plums...

“Glenn Currier to Valerie Burroughs

“So true. So beautifully put. This is one I will add to Poems on my Mirror. Literally. I am going to copy and paste it or just write it on a post-it note and put on my mirror as a reminder of what poetry should be. Thank you.”

#ph #please #glenn #mirror #poems

Aug 2018 Ek

I fall in love.

Aug 2018 Ek

Andrew Durst

I fall in love.

My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,

is decide.

Thank you to anyone that reads this.

Aug 2018 Ek

The secret life of poets

Aug 2018 Ek

emnabee

The secret life of poets

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.

#secret #life #poets

May 2018 Ek

I’ll get your name tattooed on my body

May 2018 Ek

Kelsey Rhoads

I’ll get your name tattooed on my body

If you are a suicide survivor
Inbox me your name
And I’ll add it to my tattoos of others

You guys mean the world to me
And I have my own name on my arm
Because I too, am a suicide survivor.

Inbox me your name. Make this go viral so I get names. Hopefully it inspires someone to fight a little harder. Anyone wanna join me?

If you understand I’m sorry. Stay strong friend.

May 2018 Ek

Death

May 2018 Ek

Eleanor Sinclair

Death

I met a friend today
His name was Death
He smiled big with pure white teeth
And minty fresh breath
I asked him what he did for a living
Staring blankly at me, batting his eyelashes
He did the opposite of giving
What did that mean?
But the closer I got to Death
The better I understood his scheme
In his sharp black suit he won me over
I felt an irresistible draw
Like to a diamond in the rough, or a four leaf clover
He convinced me of the beauty in the night
That when the moon was hidden from view
There was nothing better than the lack of light
He led me from my lust for life
Sang to me in my sleep
Whispered sweet nothings and handed me the knife
I tried to pull away from my newly found friend
But his choke hold was so tight
On him I started to depend
The world could see me deteriorate into nothing
He held me harder and closer
With shortness of breath I stood huffing and puffing
Enclosed in the lackluster of our friendship I became numb
The emotions drifted with my vitality
I tried to retrieve them but could only attain 1/5th of my former sum
The more time you spend with a person
The more you become like them
I suppose I couldn't see the situation worsen
Collar around my neck he leashed me like a dog
I cared so deeply for him
My haze filled mind ignored the dense fog
I came to terms with my life long trap
Death circled like a satellite around my position
No matter where I went he found my place on the map
Eventually I succame to this fate
Despite his control
Death, I could not hate
I loved him too dearly to notice the signs
I couldn't think clearly
His presence was odious and it wasn't benign

#death

Dec 2017 Ek

Thoughts

Dec 2017 Ek

Eric W

Thoughts

Writing is a narcissistic practice.

What do we aim to accomplish
when we touch ink to paper?
Mark something down in eternity,
plaster our thoughts upon and into
being so that they may be recognized,
acknowledged.
Sort through them as we would
a scattered mess of notes.

There is nothing inherently wrong with narcissism,
no matter what people may have you believe.
I've once thought so,
cycled around to the present,
and, perhaps, will go full circle multiple times.
It is in our nature.
We think so much about ourselves.

The only constant is our thoughts
is their inconsistency
so we seek to immortalize them while we can.

We are not our thoughts;
we are the sum of everything within us
when our thoughts have settled and left and
we are empty.

Think your thoughts,
write them if you must,
then set them on fire.

I've written a few things since my last post here. Been too busy with school to post much. Almost done with this semester though!

I hope all of you are well, my friends. Miss y'all everyday.

Dec 2017 Ek

“EXQUISITELY”

Dec 2017 Ek

Andrew Guzaldo c

“EXQUISITELY”

“Upon one reaching the Bloom of love,
There is very little to change those feelings,
It may be the goose bumps on your skin,
Or the rapid palpitations in your heart,

Your mind wonders day and into the night,
Into a voluptuous euphoria of dreams,
Like never before,
The intensification of thought about her,
Is bewildering ,
And being with her takes your eupnea away,

And the thought of making her happy
Brings jubilation to your Soul,
Enchantment exuberance for the
Women you Love So EXQUISITELY”

cr Andrew G Amici J