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 Feb 2015 NicoleRuth
Nat Lipstadt
read a thousand love stories,
pause, rest awhile,
read ten thousand more,
and then deny equality.

If you ask for no more than you can give,
you ask for not enough

love is imbalance not an equation,
with a single solution

love has both constants and variable factors

so you write of tribulations and tributes
so you write of lamentations and liftings

you think you are on the same page
perhaps
but do we not all read at different paces?

one of you is solid, one is dotted and dashed
one of you is straight, one is bent, forever curving

when you think you are
in balance
in the same place
in syncopation

perhaps you are for a moment
a calculus of one point on a trajectory

and you say I can only ask for what I give
and am given
and no more,
you have miscalculated

this flux
flummoxed
when the old terrain is flayed flat
but thru the windshield you see the
plateau ends, the geography unknown,

when you see unknown
when you seek the unknown
when you give from places you did not know
you had to give from
when you kiss a hand
for  twenty minutes more than than the one minute you intended
when you give more than is asked
when you ask for more than you can you think you can give
the imbalance is the only concert
the imbalance is the the only constant

how do I know this?
what are my credentials?
you are not a teenage girl,
what matters of what you know of these matters?

I am who I am
a diversity of man and manner
I am past prime and in decline
but this I know
for having failed ten thousand poem times
you must ask for more than one can give

but that's not fair!

silly one, still wretched confused,
even after one hundred
thousand poem times

you must ask of
yourself
more than you can give
and ask no less
demand no less

a body in emotion is not a body in rest
when the imbalance is too great or insufficient
then you write a poem
look in the mirror that cannot lie
and move
on
or
move
off

and begin to ask
yourself
to whom may I give myself
more than is asked
then you have finally asked
the correct solution to the
unsolvable equation
 Feb 2015 NicoleRuth
epictails
The flower told the bee
Who was about to **** himself
"Why do you insist on dying?"
The bee, sad , replied
"Because in that death will
I only ever feel I was alive"
Shaking its pretty petals
In contradiction, the flower said
"You are wrong. To exist is to
live for something, for someone"
The bee now mad, cried out
"What do you know?You're
just a flower!"
The flower,smiled, sadly
"No I live for you"
"I breathe in knowing you need
me to stay alive and that
is enough reason for me to
live"
The lines in this poem are supposed to be a dialogue I planned on including in a story I started ages ago and just couldn't find the inspiration and time to finish. And this is how I see friendship, how I see our human connections as something enduring and genuine. Have a nice day :)
 Feb 2015 NicoleRuth
Pen Lux
words
 Feb 2015 NicoleRuth
Pen Lux
words:
a poets kiss

water:
to wet your
                     tongue
throat                    
               lips

tell me this:

which set of words
arranged in which way
would send me in the direction
of your heart, hands, head, just ahead?

which tone of voice...

soothes you into sleep
to awaken the greatest dreams?

or shakes you into daybreak
to my face, smiling, you inside?

which tone would I need
to hone enough of a melody that will keep you near?

and which would I need to move you closer
so that you would be right here?

What could I hear
in the deep
dark marks
of your scars?

What could I learn
as we drink
walking
talking
playing
in bars?

What more would spill
from you, if, instead of
ingesting toxins...
we just keep talking //
instead in daylight
through forests
up mountains
down river
up stream
I bet you'd beam!

I say it all as if I know you, but I honestly don't know a thing.

words: a poets kiss
 Feb 2015 NicoleRuth
Anonymous
I can be very quiet.
Sometimes, I'm so quiet, I don't utter a word.
I stay here, oh so quietly.
Listening to you mutter your sins.
I listen, oh so patiently.
And comfort your hurt within.
And I wait, oh so desperately.
For my turn to release my burdens.
But by the time your done
And I'm ready to not be, oh so quiet
You smile and leave.
Satisfied from leaving your troubles with another.
And I want, oh so badly
To let go of all I know.
But you've left, oh so quickly
Completing the give and take.
I give and give and you take and I lose all  hope in an even exchange.
So the cycle starts again, and I'm oh so ready to let go.
But by the time they're done repenting,
I'm still left with all I know.
Sums up most of my relationships.
 Jan 2015 NicoleRuth
sarah bell
i was told i could be anything,
so i chose to be a feminist
because
when i suggested my father help with the laundry,
my mother told me i was crazy.
because
meghan tranior's "all about that bass"
is telling bigger girls to be comfortable in their own skin
because skinny girls already do, right?
because
i'd like to make as much as my male coworkers.
because
i was laughed at for wanting to be a doctor instead of a housewife.
because
people look at me strange when i say i don't want kids.
because
when i gave a speech about feminism in my english class,
i was called a man-hater.
because
"my shoulders distract the boy's education".
because
my mom shouldn't have to worry
about what goes in my drink at concerts.

i will be a feminist until
i can tell my boyfriend
"no babe, i'd rather watch the movie"
and i am not told
"you're depriving him of his needs".
until
my body is my body.
until
i no longer have to carry pepper spray on a keychain.
until
women in foreign countries can vote and drive.
until
woman means human.
until
we understand **** culture
and feminism isn't just about women,
it's about humans.
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