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 Dec 2015 mlynn11
Sam Y Starlight
Carried by the wind
A hundred floating wishes
-*Paragliding
Reposting an old haiku I wrote.
 Dec 2015 mlynn11
Martin Narrod
and the shores turn to fruit roll ups
the ashes of vibrant colors explode into the eyes
over long legs and arms, longer than psalms

until pleasure undoes every bad thing that's ever been done
 Dec 2015 mlynn11
LS
Note To: Self
 Dec 2015 mlynn11
LS
Always remember to be
With someone who
Just wants you to be

Happy.
you assume that you radiate
power
when you walk down the halls with them
begging at your feet
but, darling, you seem to have forgotten
quantity
can never compete with
quality
 Nov 2015 mlynn11
Lillian Harris
Don't let me
Find hope
In words that are
Hollow
And think that
My footsteps
Form patterns
You will follow

Don't say
That I am lovely
Like stars and
Moonlit skies
When we both know
That I am only
Tear stains and
Sad eyes
I get attached far too easily.
 Nov 2015 mlynn11
Nat Lipstadt
How Many Calories in a Poem?


visualizing the invisible,
we deconstruct the content,
the in-titled label reviewed,
querying,
is this one worth the cost?

looking for true fiber,
then further inquire,
perchance,
are there grams of
kick-starting emotive proteins,
stored and lurking within,
homes for the cells
that will inspire, transform,
mere readers into mountainous writers

lean on those scripts,
injected with just hints,
resting ribbons of flavorful fat equipped,
for there will always be
the tyranny
of the those of the sparse faith,
those writers of haiku brevity,
believers that
fat free,
is the only,
but lonely,
bene of beauty

death from ignorance to those
who would poison the fruit
of the alphabet tree,
coat produce, with glossy chemicals,
that preserve the shiny exteriors,
cooking up false feasts interior,
saturating us with the trans-fats of trite,
oily verbosity and labels of organic,
that conceal the risks of
hyper-pretensivity

an every poem, seasoned for taste,
a dash of diamond sea salts,
scatter on pinches of pearls
of Caribbean cane sugar,
sprinkle human sins and cinnamon
for zest and tang,
for inspiration and flavoring,
for the souls tonguing tastebuds,
needy for reasons
to celebrate  commissioning
the enticing exhalations of appreciative
oohs and ahs!

Warning!
this poem was processed
in a old, out-of-date factory,
that is most assuredly not,
nat-nut free*

but even if allergic,
be unafraid to taste the acerbic,
for there are
poems
suited for everyones, even your
peculiarities

you want your essayed poems
to brim healthy caloric,
grow them as offshoots
of your very own organs

you need not seek anothers certification,
if filled they are
with the mettle of iron,
built to be
calcium-fortified structures,
with the perpetual strong bones
of rhyme and sonnet

let each worded edifice
be the food,
stored to be gifted
to our progeny,
by their ever living on,
marking us,
marking them

omit the trite,
we ken no need,
for it is the false emptiness of
misleading carbohydrates,
that only fatten,
for the briefest satisfaction,
purposed for the killing of fulfilling,
dulling that which only
a well prepared
dish poetic,
can bring to healthy enliven
the human spirit




Nov. 12, 2015
Aboard Delta #2499
5:10 pm
when you are trying to lose weight, you obsess about bad calories
in everything...
 Nov 2015 mlynn11
Kristica
treat someone badly and be loved endlessly
you never had the patience to teach me much.
 Nov 2015 mlynn11
Lilacwine
Untitled
 Nov 2015 mlynn11
Lilacwine
I write with broken lips and bleeding cuticles but I write and I write and I write
 Sep 2014 mlynn11
haley
burn
 Sep 2014 mlynn11
haley
i hope when that song comes on
your lips curl up before they curl down

i hope when the first note registers your remember happy moments
the long runs in autumn
the conversations held at 1 am
the days spent just lazing in each other's company
the unforgettable concerts

and i hope that when the second note registers,
your stomach drops and your heart soars up in your throat

i hope a lump like a coal forms in your throat
and salt water rivers course down your face

i hope i ruin all of your favorite songs

i hope it burns you when i leave
 Aug 2014 mlynn11
EC Pollick
He builds robots
with his bare hands.
He takes the wrenches
and the electronics
and the nuts and bolts
and makes out of nothing
Something.

And even though I don’t even know him.
I think I may love him a bit.

I think about
How he puts things together that weren’t connected ever before.
Fixing that which is broken
Or unmade
Or seemingly unfixable.
And proving the world wrong when this man-made machine
is just as alive as the rest of us.

The discarded
are made
into something with a renewed sense of purpose.
Proving recycling as a totally viable concept
[and not just a fad hippies whine about]
Right before your very eyes.

And as I watch him explain
High level mechanics
to the English majors like me,
I think about my broken heart
and the inability to truly love anyone in the last five years of my life
And I think

Maybe
There’s someone out there
Who can finally fix that.
Seriously, Robotics are ****.
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