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I want him.
Bare backed, muscle clawed, miracles clenched in fingertips.
Bruises on legs, cuts on fingers, and every, other, bone, that ,
Is exposed to nature.
I want him.
Kisses in the morning, lightly snoring, breathless words,
As he sleeps.
Dreaming of better days.
I want him.
Mud crusted fingernails, face flushed, arctic breath,
Head frowned in concentration,
To tell me what he has read.
I want him.
Morning enlived, running abandoned, feet askew,
Eyes are open wide, wider, widened,
To tell me of that I do not see.
I want him.
Dancing enraptured, limbs snaked, head weightless,
Circle turning, arms led to mine, enclosure,
To remind me of what is, safe.
I want him.
Body *****, skinless, shirtless free,
No thing has an ounce of him, no thing,
Except, my want of him.
I would hold back
the sea with my
bare hands

If you asked
The smile of iceboxes annihilates me.
Such blue currents in the veins of my loved one!
I hear her great heart purr.

From her lips ampersands and percent signs
Exit like kisses.
It is Monday in her mind: morals

Launder and present themselves.
What am I to make of these contradictions?
I wear white cuffs, I bow.

Is this love then, this red material
Issuing from the steele needle that flies so blindingly?
It will make little dresses and coats,

It will cover a dynasty.
How her body opens and shuts --
A Swiss watch, jeweled in the hinges!

O heart, such disorganization!
The stars are flashing like terrible numerals.
ABC, her eyelids say.
Most poets or writers here have my respect
but some are producing some strange effects
to call just 2 words a poem someone really needs guts
want to know how I call this? I name it -  It's nuts!
Has got 103 likes? Research and you'll detect
He/she liked 804 poems before..
you can start now to flame me but it's a fact.

Have been reading here a lot around
did not click “like” on every poem I found
but those that I liked no matter the subject
was “***” or a “Flower”
made me laugh or think twice or surprised me
with its strong expressive power
and a few, I admit, really touched me inside
Kudos! Poets you can take the pride!

Don't care if I am trendy
perhaps my language is bad and my grammar obscure
Typing errors – if you find some, please take them
Don't give a  a sh*t – they are yours.
Thanks for “likes” that are honest
and for taking your time
should be poetry not Facebook
and now to hell with the rhyme.


(© Moon aka Heike Borgard 2014)
Warm greetings to my followers, even if I do not follow
you, I will follow your poems and you are on my mind.
 Jun 2014 peurdelavie
Paige
I have always
been able to get along
with people that
others can't.
The outcasts,
the freaks,
the losers,
the *******.
I have always been
able to see what
ordinary people don't.
Who they really are.
Everybody is a good person.
Some just have a hard
time expressing it.
Actually,
I fall in love with
those who are different.
And I love them for
the rest of my life.
Maybe it's because
I have always been
the weird one.
So I know what it
looks like inside
the soul of a person
that nobody understands.
 Jun 2014 peurdelavie
TheExpat
The harm leaves no mark
No scars to be seen,    
Horror in the dark
Hid its face obscene,    

Tasteless jokes begin                               
Real pain to deride,
The secrets within                                
At any cost hide.
                                                          
Secrets weighing down
Ending the joking,                                
Smile turns to a frown                              
It's the reckoning.                                

Out into the light
Truth is now revealed
Casting away blight  
Childhood wounds thus healed
For my friend who testified against a ******* today
 May 2014 peurdelavie
Liz Delgado
His mind was a very dark place with very thin, occasional streaks of light,
when he managed to think about a future.
It was knots and swirls;
his mind was twistingly bittersweet,
and his smile was too.
He is not perfect and even as much love as my eyes held whenever I looked at him,
I knew this perfectly;
then again,
I'm not perfect either.
The truest person you could meet,
not an ounce hypocritical.
Knew his tricks,
paths, ways and corners of life,
had this talent to get to the darkest corners of your brain without you being aware of the intrusion.
I knew my mind did not have an easy entry,
but with him...
I felt vulnerable,
there was no lock in this universe that would click closed if he were the one to be opening the gates,
let's not talk about my heart.
He's a person you love endlessly or hate passionately,
Could be your best friend or your worse enemy,
could even make you love and hate him at the same time-
but there is no color grey with him.
He was a control freak that couldn't be controlled.
Responsible for a lot of poetry and well-arranged words,
metaphors and similes,
analogies and paradoxes.
He is not forgotten easily,
I also know this perfectly.
His mind is addicting,
his heart is addicting,
his smile is addicting,
he's addicting.
And I was and still am insomnious.
My happiness should not depend on another being,
especially one so dark and emotionally unreliable at times,
someone so reckless yet thoughtful.
I am incredibly guilty.
But then again,
the heart never listens to the brain.
 May 2014 peurdelavie
Lennon Ray
it's three in the morning and my thoughts are a blur
i wish i could say that your eyes aren't on my mind
but they are
they always will be.
whether i'm at the park under my favorite tree
or in the library
you'll always be there
flooding my thoughts
reminding me of all the reason why i don't just run away
like i always seem to end up doing.
it's easiest that way.
having nothing to hold on to
makes it easier for when you have to let go
and that's all i've ever had to do.
let go
always letting go
he was my favorite song
set on repeat
played over and over
until I embedded every word
into my mind
and no matter how long
or how frequently I heard it
it’s as if it were the first time.

good morning
I love you
hello beautiful
I miss you
good night

until the day came when
I could no longer play
the track without that
404 message indicating
his location has been moved
asking me if I could locate him again-
I had no idea how to reply
eh.

at first i was gonna call this broken records
 May 2014 peurdelavie
qynce b
Please keep in mind, I've lost my glasses
and can't see very well right now.
So sorry if I miss your clear annoyance
or mistake your rejection for acceptance.

I can't find my glasses
sorry if I don't make much sense.
Everything's quite blurry
and turned well into nonsense.

And I know the rhyming in this poem
isn't very good at all.
But you see, I've lost my glasses
and can't see very well right now.
what
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