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Poems

Tru Baker Nov 2012
I'm sitting in the bed with one
thinking of the other
thinking of all the futures that could be
can be
if I just jump
if things just are
the things I'll say
the things I'll need to say
to love the one I love
as keenly as I loved the one I love.

How right is right and how much does right matter?
What is right and what is wrong and how much does it matter?
Is time the judge or is time the test?

my heart is a flipflop hopeless romantic,
rolling on through dreams of ideal days.
Almost kisses, almost brushes, almost moments, almost futures.
Real things, ephemeral things,
things that grasp, things that hold,
such sand between thinning fingers.

He is perfect, he is perfect.
One in one way.
The other in another.

Who do I choose for the future?

Who am I?
Who am I meant to be?
Samuel  May 2011
Summer Slam
Samuel May 2011
The heat outside must be a result of the
General increase in emotion that sometimes
Follows summer, top down and
Music eased up and maxed
Out among the sunglassed groups

Flipflop tans and cool lake water
Rubbing on bronzing lotion that
Allegedly prevents tanning

Today is a day, is the day
For adventure and discovery
All to ever want a cove in which
To waste away each and every hour

Drink plenty of water, make
Plenty of love and you'll be
Alright my friend, alright

There's always the lemonade if
Heat should assume the role of an adversary
Sparring on the green grass
What better way to live?
And where are you, to wonder
I'll play louder for you
Freddy S Zalta Nov 2014
She pushed what remained on her cigarette into a coffee dish, ran the water, dismissed her regret and then made a silent wish.
He threw the laptop against the wall, as if it were some flipflop rubber ball. His head fell into his waiting hands and he spoke in a dead language only he could understand.
She waited until mid-night and then she shut the TV, no use hoping for what never would be. She heard the front door open and she knew he was home.
How many lies have we reinterpreted as truth?
Our wants can sometimes distort reality until it fits what we want to believe, what we need to believe.
Like a placebo used against a virus - it can soothe our present by deluding us about the future.
Addictions of all kinds can be like quicksand pulling one away from the reality that must be lived in order to understand.