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 Mar 2014 lizany
Poetry by MAN
Book
 Mar 2014 lizany
Poetry by MAN
Every person is a book
I read when I take a look
Through the window of the eyes
I can see through your disguise
Masquerade if that's your plan
If you need to..I understand
There are places I still can reach
bring out your diamond that lies beneath
Spirituality just one handy tool
to understanding what is true
So walk with me down this path
as we calculate and do our math
Use our failures as stepping stones
providing strength we have never known
Phoenix Rising to become anew
Shedding fears of a fool
So go ahead and take a look
Read my soul just like a book...
M.A.N 3-18-14
why bother failure success
that can't steal nor give happiness!
10w reflection to dispel this sad night
It isn't so much
a matter of what One knows
as it is
a matter of what One knows to learn.
 Mar 2014 lizany
Sahil Suri
Before I begin, allow me to explain,
I too loved.. once,
so think of me not as some cynic-
nor as a master in the ways of love-
but rather as a keen observer-
now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you-
no insider knowledge-
no secrets of love-

But I do  know how to tell a true love story -

Interested?
Fantastic-
So let’s begin,

True love, if there is such a thing at all,
is like the thread that makes the cloth
you can’t tease it out-
you can’t extract meaning-
without ending up deeper in the web-
and it always remains-
hidden under layers -

In the end, that’s all you can really say about any
True love story-
They don’t generalize-
They don’t analyze-
They arent found-
They just… happen.

and that’s what makes them “true.”

But what is this coveted “love” -
the emotion?-
the act?-
the mentality?-

Love, is a constant state of illusionment-

A collective agreement amongst humans-
that it, whatever it may be,  can be treated as an excuse
for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-  

A quid pro quo  between two individuals-
to agree that they are doing something-
anything-
other than mindlessly drudging through life-

Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless-
I said before, I have felt the embrace of love
Love festers between individuals for so long
it has no option-
but to mould the physical to itself-
and alter our personalities-

Characterized by spontaneity-
by indulgence-
by risk-
to love is the most dangerous experience in existence-
the act of being fully vulnerable with another-
while promising not to hurt them the same-

Love is characterized by vulnerability-
and the constant fear of being hurt-

So you want to know how to write a true love story?
be honest-
dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners-
dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed-
reveal the core of love -

A true love story comes from gut instinct-
A true love story, comes from experience.
A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe

So I said I loved once,
allow me to elaborate-

I too have felt the “butterfly stomach”
- where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one”

I too have spent the day daydreaming...
-Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of  utter normalcy

I too have melted into a puddle of emotion….
-lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves-

I too have felt... invincible-
-to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to.

Yes, I too have fallen in love.
and I did just that-
I fell.





..And that is my true love story-
Edit: Thank you everyone. It has meant a lot.
 Mar 2014 lizany
Sawyer Gowans
Four thousand six hundred fifty two miles away
from my small town front door to the bed where you lay.
One thousand one hundred fifty minutes from you,
a long time to travel but I'd do it for you.
Two hundred thirty two days  since you left,
two hundred thirty one nights without rest.
A million statistics but none that I see
that will ever be enough to keep you from me.
missing snugs
 Mar 2014 lizany
Sean Critchfield
I secretly hope
She doesn't learn from our past
So she'll repeat me.
 Mar 2014 lizany
Lappel du vide
"how strange it is to be anything
at all"

sometimes i look
at my skin
and wonder why we have
branches growing out of lined palms,
and wonder why
our eyeballs look like galaxies
compacted

and i realize that there is no answer
but to stop thinking about it
and just
live
for ***** sake.
On your poems I linger.

Long after they’re gone

Leave their mark
On my work

Residues of their thread
Buzz in my head

Deep they sink
To color my ink

Your thought
In me wrought

The way you bleed
The way you seed
The way you need

They get into me
Beget more poetry

Your pursuit of joy
Of pain
Of sorrow

I borrow

Fated to be forever indebted

I steal your tune
Like a roadside singer.

On your poems I linger.
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