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~~~

sometimes I type in the search mode a
word unusual, offbeat,
of my own choosing,
let it lead me to the nuggets, the truffles of others
resting waiting knowing that I
will be rooting for them
at the base of their trees deep in their
author's forest
If I'm Dreaming*

If I'm dreaming
Please don't wake me up
The life I'm in is one I love
And im doing what I want

If I'm dreaming
Help me stay asleep
Turn the lights way down low
Throw a cover over me

If I'm dreaming
Don't you bother me
Let me stay where I'm at
I have exactly what I need

If I'm dreaming
See the smile there on my face
I'm loving life in my dream
I don't want to be awake

If I'm dreaming
Please just let me dream*


Poem by : Carl Joseph Roberts
i was hurt
i was stabbed.
From my neck to the back. Reality check.

He took
w
hat he could
grab.
How sad
~~♥~~

I used to think men
should be more like books
Both you cannot
judge by looks...

If I didn't want to finish reading
I put it down... no heart was bleeding

A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you
through the night...

It doesn't smoke. It doesn't drink.
It won't leave toothpaste
in the sink!

It doesn't binge... it don't eat...
It won't leave up the toilet seat!

It don't forget. It doesn't mope.
It won't hog the TV remote!

It doesn't have to have
The last say...
It doesn't have legs

to walk away.

But it's not soft. It isn't warm.
It doesn't keep you
safe from harm.

Even though it makes no fuss
It can't think. It can't discuss.

Even though it has its charms
it can't hold you in its arms.

It doesn't pine. It doesn't miss.
It can't hug and it can't kiss.

So now I think on it again...
... I think BOOKS should be
             more like MEN!!!



SoulSurvivor
2/20/2015
~~♥~~
Just when there was nothing more to say,
Just when I figured we were ending,
And rose to put the dishes all away...

You stuck your head inside my door,
Grinned that dumb old grin you've grinned before,
Said, "There's reasons why I've been so long;
Been working on a brand new song,
But skip all that and let's go out to play!"

Just when I was sure that you'd forgotten,
Just when I was making other plans,
Just when I'd called you something rotten...

You dropped a dozen roses In my hands,
Expecting me to forgive you all your crap,
Said, "Come on, Honey, I'm a sap;
Come on baby, please don't slap;
Let's go take another lap!"
And jitterbugged us out without my cap.

Just when I knew you were a *******,
Just when I knew that I'd been played,
Just when I bought an airplane ticket
To take me up and carry me away....

You proffered me a diamond ring;
You took my breath and made me sing,
You promised me another fling;
You set a date and were not late,
And then you heard me say,

"You made me wait, you made me pine,
I can't say now that we'll be fine,
But Lover, make it right this time!
You listen now and listen fine,
Can't stop my pout with vintage wine....
So think a while, and then start humming,
"If my lady's waiting, I'll start running!"
And if you're late from time to time,
You're never gonna hear me whine,
If you let me know just why and when,
And don't leave me wondering again!"
Thoughts from my wife's perspective, I think.... Thirty-five years have come and gone.... I am a slow learner...can't be puttin' my ******* no back burner!
From sweet talking for hours
Their friendship slowly turned sour
And with each passing night
Their talks gave way to fights

Her voice was once music to him
And when she spoke, he heard la, la, la
But arguments defiled her hymn
Now all he hears is bla, bla, bla...

She had nothing but good intentions
And dreamed of a life of bliss
But he dwelled on her imperfections
All because he'd lost his peace

Spontaneous, wild and free
She was everything he was not
He stood firm, rigid as a tree
And all she dreamed came to naught!


© Raphael Uzor
At night rise, to the buzz of my son’s blood,
I wake and blow aboriginal dust from my lungs,
Get up and take a turn around the house.

The place has gotten cold.
This ****-eyed family – good God, they are helpless.
I tried to help by leaving things behind,
Like this prayer on the wall
About the timelessness of beauty.
And did you find the poem
About Freud and mountain climbing?
All they do is wail privately
And try to pass it off as singing.

My son sleeps like a chessmaster,
Shocked into resignation.
He dreams about me,
And his dreams are riddled with light
And longing for the past.
Such nocturnal naiveté.

But he knows the stars
And because, like the ancient Greeks,
He can follow them home,
He will leave this place before it leaves him.

This house gets smaller all the time.
Still, the furniture breathes quietly,
And the dancers in the tapestry sway
Though faded by the sun.

The dust from my breath settles down in layers.
Pale light silvers the living room mirror.
My steps leave footprints before each foot falls.
The footprints lead back to my door.

It is time to lie down.
Soon my son will wake up,
And shake off the ashes of sleep.
I don't live here any more.
My death will begin again.
i just can't breathe in here, my head is spinning
i believe the stale air is thinning
i get no answers to the questions i'm sending
black magic love spells are trending

i read poems. but never reach the ending
they lead me back to the beginning
i feel so guilty of the time i am spending
black magic love spells are winning

(11-9-12-8 syllable count for both stanzas)
I noticed that one of the spammer advertisements was trending in the feed(along with a lot of dead poets), so i wrote this. This site gets
Daily Unique Visitors: 62,858
Monthly Unique Visitors: 1,913,200
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Ain't it a shame that so many new poets get ignored?
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