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 Feb 2017 PaperclipPoems
Dan
If writing poetry is like giving blood
That would explain why I'm so dizzy half the time
And why I haven't written anything worth saying since December
I have been listening to the same songs
Over
And over
And over again
I stopped asking myself if my life's worth living and started asking if I'm even living
I keep getting angry to the point my nerves have worn down to nothing
And let me tell you
There are few feelings worse than feeling helpless when you know you shouldn't
Feeling helpless when you've got plenty more privileges than the next person in line
Should I allow myself to feel this way when my life was never in danger and I still live at home?
Just another egalitarian with empty hands
Plagiarizing my manifestos from the lips of people I've never met
Beating my feet on the ground or fist on my chest thinking anyone gives enough of a **** to know what song is stuck in my head today or yesterday or for all eternity
Every love song or song of peace or song of quiet is gone
All that's left are songs for battle
But the more I sing the words the more I question if they mean anything to me or if they will last beyond my life
Maybe we could build a better world if I wasn't such a coward
Maybe we could all be free if I wasn't such a hypocrite
Maybe I'm being to ******* myself but nights like these I can't allow myself to be too comfortable or it could mean death

You sent me a message the other day
It had been two years since we really spoke honestly
Two years and many angry poems about it all
It was really good to hear from you
You're younger than me, but you know much more about being an adult than I do
You know a lot more about being an honest person than I do
But today I tried to do better
Not for your sake (or my memory of you)
But for my own
 Jan 2017 PaperclipPoems
nivek
I swear I could hear someone scratching on the lid of their coffin
I went back the next day and I swear it got weaker
until the day after when it had stopped. completely.
 Jan 2017 PaperclipPoems
Rj
Unable
 Jan 2017 PaperclipPoems
Rj
Howling with sorrow,
I stood emotionless at the bedside
Unable to lend a comforting hand,
Unable to deny the accusations,
Unable to pretend it wasn't true.
.
Once a little boy woke up scared,
crying and calling for his mother.
Once an adult man woke up scared,
crying and calling for his lover.

For the boy there is no answer,
his mother is just never there.
For the man there is no answer,
his lover being just thin air.

You see the little boy is now a man,
who only ever wanted to be loved.
The adult man was the little boy,
who only ever needs to be loved.

So put your arms around the child,
show him love and teach him joy.
And put your arms around the man,
remember, he really is just a little boy.


© Pagan Paul (28/01/17)
what a day, what a week,
what a month, what a year.
what a time to be alive,
what a time to drive off the pier and disappear.

i thrive in fear so don’t revive me,
it deprives me of what i hold dear.
let me lie beside me, my friends,
my family and peers.

© Matthew Harlovic
by the window
I stood yesterday
awaiting
her to come back
I prayed to see
her on the horizon
i waited from
sunup
to sundown
and never caught a glimpse
I stand today again
at the window crying
blindly the lemmings did follow
questioning their leader not
for his word alone they'd swallow
none awake to the piper's plot

questioning their leader not
he'd corralled them with nonsense*
none awake to the piper's plot
they'd be downed at his expense

he'd corralled them with nonsense
a Jim Jones kind of dingbat
they'd be downed at his expense
as he called in a weird ****

a Jim Jones kind of dingbat
proffering the edge's cliff-face
as he called in a weird ****
all drowned pursuing his trace

proffering the edge's cliff-face
the testament of a madman
all drowning pursuing his trace
their eyes were closed like a fan

the testament of a madman
none awake to the piper's plot
their eyes were closed like a fan
*questioning their leader not
(... she plays with words)

~

like wind she plays with words,
shaped sand upon the beach;
building castles to the sky,
where tide her walls can't breach.

the combinations countless,
she untangles any stumbling lines;
in tapestry-flowing fountains,
her words to us, our sip of wine.

with nary but her hands she crafts,
poetry 'neath the noonday sun;
ceasing not except to watch,
a seabird as it tends its song.

in subtleties she stirs,
her adjectives like riffs;
nuanced dance in every verb,
a song that rises 'cross the drifts.

words that rivet every reader.
lines that wile a way with rhymes;
stanzas frame a photograph,
her free verse plays along in time.

combers rendered speechless,
marvel her poetic ways;
high as terns can fly she reaches,
as with every term she plays.

her muse in song delights
in ev'ry crashing wave she's heard;
her phrasing light takes winged flight,
like wind she plays with words.

on sands that ripple 'long the shore,
like conductor's arms at final score;
crescendo builds... she stands *****,
then fades to black when sun has set.

~

post script.

today she was my morning muse... a delightfully brilliant poet who knows how to play with words in a most riveting way!  i only just found her beautiful.work.  please allow me to introduce you to Chelsea Rae in these lines:  http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1861530/shine-your-love/
I am the ocean's deepest watery depths...
Come ashore.
Disguised as mortal footsteps
to explore,
to explore the Cosmic synchronicities
of the elusive quantum forever more.
I am the Cosmic Breaths of Forever.
waiting to tread on the literary pages of destiny's forever shores.


(C) copyrighted
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