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Her mind
was a universe
of  juxtaposition...
love  hate               heaven  hell
peace    war
  passion  apathy       beauty  ugliness          
fantasty reality
happiness        melancholy
freedom captivity     strength weakness
innocence and guilt

It travelled back and forth
her albatross was a
perpetual quest for balance
other times she was certain
she wouldn't want it
any other way.
Poetoftheway Feb 2019
the Hail Mary transgression:
falling in love with me when it crosses over the line

guilty of the same, so even when I condemn the errant woman,
with an ice block from a Northeastern pond of no soft forgiveness,
which is still and yet, the only cutoff ending appropriate

but you woman, deserve to learn that
emboldened fantasy that crosses broken bold lines,
is a jagged rot that doesn’t cure the dreamy unreality of
it’s pouring hot water on scalding burns entrenched

guess time to share that your fantasy is the
number one commandment
that this boy also violates routinely so he has a phd of experience,
and the burn proofs when he thot he too could be,
Cervantes, the knight errant, lover of the impossible woman

I, guilty as charged by “The Duke,” am an idealist and bad poet,
so many poet-women here I secret cherish at levels that are nonsensical, absurd, ludicrous
and hold the fantastical fantasty of them dear,
so close and so near, so mine

wrote them each love poems, and they know it,
now, here, in my confessional booth,
my priestly punishment always the same,
ten thousand Hail Mary’s,
but I cheat the cohen priest,
and just write another poem,

this one is about the line that never can  could  will be
crossed, hail mary!
The Duke from Man of La Mancha
Timothy Brown Dec 2012
If i cnoke I do not need him
to not this not,
siks peices are not enof
for a huffaluff
Which is the achoo.
But if i ring
I may distrb a drem
And I wood not like to b
risn from a slumbr
if I waz in a fantasty.
qite the conumdrum
© December 4th, 2012 by Timothy R Brown. All rights reserved.
Caitlyn Stewart May 2012
Am I the only one looking up?
I apologize that I find the world so alive,
even though the living are a dying volume -
closer to mute day by day.
That is what I see when I look around.
Mechanical sounds, fingernails tapping.
One day, our point of existence will be hammered
into a useful metal machine,
our brains useless - bowing down to a radiating screen.
Every light bulb is dim; they can't scream or fight,
their sources spit in protest.
Questions are satisfactory without answers.
No one is curious.
No one Questions.
Weak necks, bobbling down- down - to a control claw,
are disconnected from mind and body.
Since when did reputation build on fantasty
and when did people we don't know or like
become more important ?
More important than reality?
How does it feel to die?
Eyes already cast downward..
'Die' isn't instantaneous,
it can be slow and now.
Am I the only one looking up?
Can you still hear?
or do I need to be lips -
attached to those earphones.
Have you drowned out the world yet?
(I'm swimming in it).
I apologize that I am lost being alive
and I apologize that somewhere
in a place that doesn't exist,
you are lost.
electra  Jul 2017
electra Jul 2017
Her love was electric,
He could sense it in the air in that second,
It was her taunting green eyes,
That he saw her forever in his life.
Perhaps it was just the *** talking,
But as she kept walking,
He knew he was stuck under her love spell,
She was an angel sent from hell.

Oh, her love was electric,
That his heart became infected.
Oh, how could of this happened?
This love that he never imagined.
She ruled his kingdom,
She had become his heart's rhythm.

His love had become electric,
Now they're souls were connected.
She fell for his taunting hazel eyes,
That she saw him forever in her life.
Perhaps, it was all fantasty,
But he had become her gravity.
But she needed to capture him under her love spell,
To save her from hell.

Oh, her love was electric,
That his heart became infected.
Oh, how could of this happened?
This love that he never imagined.
She had ruled his kingdom,
She had become his heart's rhythm.

Her love was electric,
And his love became electric.
Their souls had become the champagne,
That the stars could not contain.
Their souls emerged into the sea,
Ruling over the world so the people could see.

Oh, her love was electric,
That his heart became infected.
Oh, how could of this happened?
This love that he never imagined.
She ruled over his kingdom,
She had become his heart's rhythm.
This poem tells a story through a series of poems. The second part to this is Electra (which is published here). Electric is an introduction to the entire story and to see what happens please feel free to go check out electra. The other poems will be written as I find inspiration but for now, these two are avaliable for you to read.
floW  Dec 2019
floW Dec 2019
if; all that glitters is not gold,
how come my mind and brain
deceive me?

what differentiates between reality,
and fantasty?

what if because it glitters,
i wish for it to be gold?

who decides that gold is valuable,
and glitter belongs to the

Me? You? Society?


words are arbitrary,
each and everyone of us assigns our own meaning to
everything we encounter.

so why follow the definitions that others set?

two roads may diverge in a yellow wood,
but that doesn't mean you need to take
either path.

you were given two hands
to pave your own way.
A suggestion of a flutter in the frail fibres of a feather,
Hanging from a whispered web of thread,
Is it breeze that disturbs the stillness?
Or perhaps the breath is that of a fantasty,
Ambitions painted on some hazy eyes,
Or songs woven in slumber,
Catching in the curves of a charm,
Gently nudging their way into reality,
For long enough to start the softest of ripples,
In a handmade dreamcatcher.
danny Apr 2018
You don't have to love me back,
Just say I see you, and we will let that be that,
You just have to know I am around,
Just a nod of your head, nothing too profound.

You don't to commit or anything,
Just know I listen to the words they sing.
Please don't block or ignore, I am not a creep
I won't as you to hold my hand, I won't ask you to leap.

You can live normally, free and true.
It's my cross to bear that I am not for you.
Please take care with my heart, it may not always beat your name.
One day I could be gone, for once not to blame.

So all I ask is that you let me adore.
I have conjured a fantasty life, we need not explore.
I took a big step revealing my thoughts
Distantly yours, crosses and noughts.
A poem about unrequited love where both parties know, I found the whole concept interesting to write about. I have been on both sides of the "love" I have let people have feelings for me and told them nothing would ever happen while if I have had feelings sometimes the same kindness wasn't returned
Infamous one  Sep 2018
Qw #79
Infamous one Sep 2018
Not everyone you value feels the same
Not willing to think highly of you
You smile and love life to the fullest
They see you as a joke
while they soak in misery
Take advantage abuse your kindness
The mind is blind full of denial
A heart fueled with love
can rise above the wick
Dreaming made it hard to sleep
Lost in the fantasty not the reality

— The End —