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If you need my love
hand delivered
then
******* a kiss,
wave it
from your lips,
send it airborne,
upon arrival,
greeted with smiles
and an obligatory return

It will be returned
FedEx,
in the biggest box,
you will ever see

you will require
both our hands
to open it,
Yours,
from without
Mine,
from within
Ebb n' flow
no idea where this came from....
in the air I guess...
Central Park transformed,
a natural stadium
of tourists, strollers,
drunk on:

spring beer Buds,
or
buds of forsythia

maps upside down,
smiles right-side up

Amazing,
they don't even notice,
'walk on by,'

the white shirted, black suited  
unicorn playing the accordion


or the

violinist
imitating Charlie Chaplin,
playing both her instrument and
her hula hoop,
simultaneously


ah Central Park,
your air is like
a first cup of spring,
a first morning coffee,
a fresh breath of
a special new,
if you know
how to
just be,
in NYC
Just another true tale of life in Manhattan...come walk with us...

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/482482/in-my-sweet-city/
~took a walk in the city today,
and this happened in the O'Henry tradition~*


the blind man crossing E. 15th,
does not look, nor does he care,
all foes on-coming,
come hither, he dares

his light is red,
yet his cane extended,
he click clacks steadily ahead,
unaware and unbeknownst,
his new step by step sidekick,
Sheriff Natty,
is writing an air poem to a
taxi driver with his
shotgun *******,
a NY gesture of
welcoming *******...

a green light means passage
is a taxi's right,
but my left shoe firm
attached to his bumper,
plus multiple looks mine,
any of which could ****,
his argumentation poses
do somewhat chill...

the sheriff of the city, his motto,
sic transit finger gloria

~

among the sadder sights
of city life
is contrast...

the dark-only coolness
of an Irish bar,
on a bright spring day
when life and love
is bud sprouting
while old white men,
on single soiled solitary stools,
their colored cheeks green
from the reflection of
TV emerald diamond fields,
sipping many pre-game $3
Guinness draughts

around the second inning,
they switch, onto
boilermakers to make
the languid afternoon stretch on,
this I know for sure,
for in the large gilded mirror
behind the bar,
see the barkeep's back asking me,
"what will it be for you
this fine spring day?"


~


next to the bar, in the corner market,
an old man's hands tremble in an old man's way,
in a way I only know thru his testimony,
as he does his daily self-feeding,
his wallet removed, fumbling for two
single soiled solitary one dollar bills.

the shopkeeper's fingers
beat the counter impatiently,
the old man's beer brown bagged,
transport ready, though the old one
rather be next door,
the extra Dollar saved causes
a last minute delay, shaky fingers,
asking for an extra purchase,
a small can of dog food please,
so he can watch the game at home
and share the same meal
with the man's real and best,
and only true spring weather friend

~

the mayor proclaimed as a matter of
public safety, public decorum,
a pack of three or more woman
wearing all black Lululemon athletic wear,
were now banned from being outside after nightfall

later this night, in Carl Schurz Park,
many vamp voices were heard
singing the lyrics to
"i want to do bad things to you,"
but they staked him only
to a free color reeducation

~

these takes I witnessed,
all or some,
these tales I took
some or all,
from beneath my skin,
where city streets grit
injected beneath my skin
came with the title,
City Boy,
and honored me
with its O'Henry life and lore,
and the vision to believe what is
in my bloodstream
Just another true tale of life in Manhattan...come walk with us...even if not present, my present to my sidekicks are these vignettes from an ordinary city walk...always present with me...my crew...

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/482482/in-my-sweet-city/
I will drown out
Their ignorance
With our love

And I will down
The bread and grape juice
Thinking only of us
Drinking champagne

And as the pastor preaches
I will smile, not frown
Because all I'll hear are your sweet
"I love you's" on repeat

And I'll perk up
When I hear the world "angel"
Because I may be an atheist
And thought I have no God,
I have you
And you're **** close
To an angel

And I will stand
When the band begins to play
Because I'll be thinking of you
Strumming your guitar
Because you're a symphony
And you hush all cacophony  

There will be no tears shed
When I leave this church pew
I'll pay no mind to the fact
That I'm surrounded by people
Who think I'm living in sin

My mom thinks she's "curing"
My love for you
As I radiate in church
But it's only because I'm thinking
Of that girl with blue hair
Who's there for me
When God isn't
And kisses my lips
In public
And her gray eyes
Full of life
Block out any ugly stares
When people look at us
They see two girls kissing
But I see two humans
Deep in love
But apparently it's sin
Just because you're the same gender
As me

And those people in church must think
I'm just like them
And I suppose we at least have one thing
In common:
We'd both fight for our love
I'm writing a LGBT love story about two girls and one of the girl's, Britney comes from a deeply religious family and these would probably be her thoughts at church. The only way in which this about me is that I'm also an atheist who's forced to go to church and I mostly think about my boyfriend in church. I don't mean to offend anyone and I realize that not all religious people are homophobic, but if you deny that religion is holding back human rights, you're clearly wrong.
 Apr 2014 Mike T Minehan
J
She combed her hair with the night sky
& then let loose those bits of stray galaxy that had embedded themselves in the wisdom of her follicles.
She's dark, yet
moonlight glows
inside her soft-eyes
& despite her
tragic-aura,
I still want
her blackness,
to taste her magic,
to kiss
the devil inside her.
 Apr 2014 Mike T Minehan
Molly
I.
If a boy teases you,
he is a ****.
Stand up for yourself.

II.
It is entirely acceptable
to wear brown with black
and silver with gold.

III.**
If it is three a.m.
and you still don't understand the quadratic formula,
go to bed.

IV.
When you get your heart broken
(and you definitely will),
ask yourself if they are worth crying over.

V.
By all means,
whenever there is rain,
go outside.

VI.
You are not a girl,
you are a person.
Behave as such.

VII.
Dress however you want.
Dye your hair unnatural colors.
Wear men's clothing.

VIII.
Have seconds.
Eat dessert.
Eat second dessert.

IX.
Love until it hurts,
and then ask yourself
if it is still worth it.

X.
Always be truthful,
gentle,
and fearless.
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