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Robin Carretti Jul 2018
A-Start the best part*
A-Healthy heart breakfast

Not so fast slow down of prayers
Just come and arrive
Sheer whispering Dress Aline
shapes of water are mine

The Green Gables sweeter lime
The twins whisper in doubles
The pink fur Hello Kitty
My best of the cattle in couples
Meet her friend the Furry Sable

The loud whisperers stealing hearts
Of sleepwalkers
They call her the wanderer
He whispers and she's the keynotes
"Her Real Estate' A-Steal for her estate diaries

But their children love to whisper

The crayons Highlights of the wonderland
Building more Ancient dreams

Stealing the grapes of whisper escapes
Like  A-dream planted to remain
A steal cannot take that away
Even if it's you're last meal

Walking with the one you love for miles
Come on baby light my fire
Whispering Morrison door to save
A dream to give the world peace
Like wishing well pulling the rope

Whisper could that be your prayer of hope?*
The guitar the invisible impossible star
And he steals another dream  
Whispering shadows pass like clouds

Australian Malamutes doing the salute *

Got strung along
And lost you

*A-STEAL for an eye for an eye
     HEART
  just give a life

Whispering over again wasn't
the way to play smart
Losing my voice
How to trust someone's words
So hard like the concrete
The abundance of food
Ala carte or Dente

A-Steal dream putting it
into your mind

Whispering Falltime Women in her
Acorn-SHOE* prime time
Walk-in closet Godly light
Like the Viking of swords
Knight

Where to go who will ever know
Not a pin drop of a slight whisper
Clasping or gasping for air
The Holy Water was left

For the delicate minds
of the deer
That light talk of resistance
Lips of acceptance

With her silken pillows
Tied their dreams
Sopping wet rain
The French soothing whispering rainfalls
Wearing her trenchcoat
Whispering her sugar words
He could find me peace
to my river
Like two peas in a pod to float
A Steal how love can tweed his coat
My difference is hearts like "
Owl Hoot"
Just feel you know what's real
Often told the end is truly the taste
to breathe
Even if you are deep inside her dream
To justify her means
Like the Queen to the Diplomat
The highest authority

You almost felt only your whisper the priority
The Aristocrat cleaning up your
bad dreams
*High beams a spoiled love
Like a *** for the Tat

Not the fairytale Dr. Seuss
Cat in the Hat- or the desperation
of one last whisper
Up the sunrise eyes are speechless
The Astral my Goddess
You are the creature of the night
Shining the light never ending the battle night

Smells of baked cake through your nostrils
Rocky mountains of Colorado dreamy caves

Hearing  sounds but living in the distance
The romance blinded like a ghost
winning out the odds

The Even lovers like the Gods whisper
Canadian waterfall talking love deeper

Doing Pilates what *Yogalates loving the
yodeling dreaming watching him the diver
Going dirt biking just love the dreamy feel of hiking

"Hearing Attention ****** in the Summertime"

All blue eyes what a dreamer
The good Earthly brown so worthy
The Cafe Eyes

A steal dream like a spilled milk
Our cat "Jade Eyes" did I hear you
correctly an heir?


Summer the Kings speech air
The assembly line
Good and the bad memories
The years getting away with ******
The law of attraction what a steal in order

Erasing someone's scent
A- million stars you found your truth
Looking outside of your dream
Was your *Godly
tent
Whispering has many advantages and its amazing to see someone in your dream like your lover the mountains hiking or dirt biking and the change of seasons to *******
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
Walking and saying
Things our wellbeing
The soul needing love possessions
Have absolutely no meaning

Playing and praying
Overstaying and Under-paying
Rising sun and Symphonic searching

" Is this the way it is?" Tis the season

But the tightness no business like
searching business
  She is combined and mixed like a song
fully lined both with keynotes somehow
we declined
The feeling that you cannot breathe
or  trust both of us
 we can  bearly **** it all in
My music playing just click my belt buckle
Will start to begin

The soul is not a crime or just a rhyme
I barely cannot breathe
I am in a chuckle, you see his
smile raising up his dimple

Ms. Thumbelina cobblestone
narrow-minded street your
in the tightrope symphonic beat

But its dark outside your ringlets
Waved him on got excitedly mesmerized
His Goblet of wine she curls up in
his body heat brilliantly dazzled
The sky to your dreams he is
reaching your
soft side skin
whats actually within
our souls

So  hooked into your ride not to slide
better grades and goals
The awesomeness symphonic hatter
Victorian divineness
Her paper cut out hearts as real
as they come
The Eastside Symphonic tip of his
Heavenly Bliss private Quarters
What becomes of the broken hearted
Heads or dimes not landing on her stone
Floor heart
The Duke of all trades of the hat he's smart

Cool running ******
Addictions to the mind so fanatic
What a good soul sometimes
He overexaggerates about
love and fate darkness drives him demonic
What are you kidding me
She doesn't rest her heart on his
soul for the burning desires of food
for thought
She keeps piling his poems like any sport
He's her everything she learns to be taught

Searching lips pricing
Red bloodshot eyes of crying onions
She is so fierce controlling
Musically like a Tiger roaring
He is like a design of graphics tattoo
The earring piecing the sweetest taboo

More soul searching
She's the snake purse
to his snake eyes fancy,
he took a ride
Upper-false teeth
The upper west side
have some prideThe dark side
became her thing
The wildflower not to stand to
bloom and bang like her band

Westside sounds came deep
his pride and joy like a parade
and wickedly dark his charade

It was  sneaking up on her backside
And the other side was just hiding
and smiling
She definitely saw the light lamp post how
the smells came stronger the darkness of desire
she was famished not to have vanished

Feeling like a *** roast love continued
She had a gift for her lover, not the
toast who would brag to boost
Two ****** British what
divine glasses at a cost
The symphonic soul
captured them like the
Dark-Knight of words
Symphonic sounds came
hearing names
soulful hummingbirds buzz-net

And there weren't any more
words there was silence
Eating shepherds pie table was set

Taking over another soul that's a lie
just like magic searching for a love
so long ago became tragic
You need more perseverance
Her true love gave her
an incredible sixth sense
of deliverance
The top seat at the concert
classical wicked taste of music
candescent erotically sonic

She had this certain quality
He was a symphonic love bounty
Her lips moved so fitting fantastically
The flower shops caught her eye
She couldn't sense what was real or a lie
The fast pace of the people all worked up.
What a soulful smell music sounds
she faintly known

To her ear wanted to hear only him shown

Besides the faintly illuminated
shapes evergreens were
heartily trimmed
She stood out bright as the ground
She was turning gray losing reality
not to be found or heard
So soulful her lips speak
she was walking with her head up
in the air fancy dancey
How those men could speak.
You could smell all the ethnic
flavors of foods
She felt the search for something
of a Saint, she was trying to
hard to be good
What a Haydn, his wife
was the mad hair driving

Miss Daisy soul of hers crazy curled
inside her book
She's the lady-like curler
How he played through her hair
Hunchback of Notre Dame who was to blame?
How his eyes wondered playing
and observing
But she was holding his stare

like a womanizer and his eyes flew
what a haunting moon
But Samatha the harp shady tree
He said, my fair lady,
He's stringing something together

What! creepypasta but sometimes her powers were weak
The symphonic love potent every other week

Some Gothic man symphonic music started
Playing Rossini Opera he could stand on his head.
She was pinned to his eyes
Pinterest such interest
she was all bloomed like a fly

By witches, flower came he passed her and he knew exactly who she was as is but wait not his?
The pleading the beg humbug far from her tunes of the ladybug

Razzamatazz all body of Jazz jitterbug
He winked she-devil
summoned him on
What a binding spell
She wiped the sweat off her face
She was beautiful with pale
porcelain skin
So alluring walking
with her parasol
This is my darkness of a read I hope you enjoy flowers even if they perk you up if they are the darkness stay alive to bloom there will always be a flower like you
Styles  Jul 2019
Note
Styles Jul 2019
like a song,
     my fingers scored
     I touched your keynotes
     by pressing your buttons
     your moans were music
     to my ears;
Jade Aug 2019
⚠️Trigger Warning: The following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm, suicide, and involuntary psychiatric hospitalization⚠️

I don't recall a whole lot
about my first hospital visit.

I know only the
fleeting
keynotes of the experience.

And I'm not just referring to my first...
psychiatric (?) visit.

(I'm not sure if psychiatric is
the right word,
but I find that I often struggle
to find the right words
when I attempt to describe hospitals
and the time I've spent in them.


I'll do my best.)


See,
I had never been to the
Emergency Room for anything before.

(Well,
except for that one time
I tumbled off the changing table as a baby.
But I'm not sure that really counts,
my only knowledge of the event
having come from second-hand stories.)

Surprisingly enough,
being the clumsy child I was,
I had never sustained
any significant injuries
while growing up,
especially in comparison to my sister
who had a daunting repertoire.

When she was a toddler,
she executed a daredevil jump
from the top of the staircase,
breaking her arm as she crash-landed
onto the basement carpet.

While we were waiting
for her to be fitted with a cast,
I remember her doctor told me
to stop misbehaving.

While I can't remember
exactly how I was misbehaving,
I'm sure it had something to do
with the chaos of my temperament,
a chaos that has churned inside me
for as long as I have known.

Over the course
of my high school years,
when I would make several
appearances at the hospital
due to my own brokenness--
the very brokenness that persuaded
the lacerations on my wrists
and my lust for death--
the doctors would,
in their clinical, roundabout ways,
tell me the same thing:

to stop misbehaving.

In the ninth grade--
this here. this is the first visit--
my guidance counsellor and English teacher
had driven me to the Children's Hospital,
which was only up the road from my high school.

Oddly enough,
I had been relatively compliant.

I had gone quietly,
devoid of the defiant uproar
that seethed under my skin.

Perhaps I acted as I did to prove that,
despite, my darkness,
isolating me from the world I knew
would be a grand disservice to me.

Or perhaps I feared
what would happen
if I was to purposely disobey,
that, upon arriving at the hospital,
I would be treated like the rebel I was,
promptly disrobed of my independence.

The remaining details of the visit
have been resolved to vagueness
as time has passed.

I only know my father  
came straight from work to pick me up.
Before we left,
the doctor gave us pamphlets--
crisis hotlines,
accessing resources
within my quadrant of the city,
alternatives to self-harm.

The doctor dwelled on this last subject;

if I felt like cutting myself,
I could still satisfy the urge
without actually drawing blood.

I could press ice to my skin
or write on myself with markers--
markers not pens--
or snap a rubber band against my wrist,
which was the method
he had particularly fixated on.

He explained he wasn't too keen
on me snapping myself
all the time, either,
but that it was a preferable
alternative until I improved.

"Doc,"
I wish I'd said,
"If only you knew
how lovely it is to bleed."
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aurora kastanias Oct 2017
In a Universe fourteen billion years old, a galaxy
Amongst two trillion others moves, through space
At two point one kilometres per hour, pulled
By a gravitational focal point once named, the Great
Attractor and now known, to be grander than supposed.

At the edge of it a star out of many more, collects
Planets to follow its orbit around its core. Amid them,
A terrestrial one ten billion years younger sets,
The grounds for life to spring where evolution’s course
Gives birth to an extraordinary creature like none before.

Destined to mature a mind capable of questioning,
Understanding and develop a thought, budding
Into a creator itself of concepts built by imagination.
Its first ancestor two million years old, its father
Two hundred and fifty thousand, make modern

Human, **** sapiens, a baby on the timeline
Of cosmic history, playing with toys it has constructed,
To learn only subsequently how to use them. Retracing
Steps back to present, to look at humanity with indulgence,
Through the loving eyes of parents, who never turn them

Blind. Reprimanding its mistakes and disasters,
We are all guilty as charged, with the sole ambition
Of channelling its consciousness for it to bloom,
Fulfil its potential, as it acknowledges its blunders
And corrects direction.

Sure some may view the world as grotesque, with
“Chronic adversity and whimsical exuberance”, witnessing
“Savage wars, apocalyptic climate change, plastic ocean
Pollution, nuclear weapon proliferation, overpopulation,
Immigrant crises, everlasting animal cruelty” and more.

Though if denial of it all would be an insult to intelligence,
Failing to see the kid’s good deeds would be a slight,
To humanity and the Universe deciding to give it life.
The toddler is learning to walk, creating meaningful
Relationships, discerning right from wrong. Voluntarily

Willing to make amend, unfollow blindly rulers’ greed
For conquest, power and neglect, desperately seeking
To separate its waste, hoping for recycling to help,
Clean dirtied waters, soils and air, boycotting businesses
Linked, to weapon industries to cease, being a murderer.

Harbouring fellow humans trapped, in critical situations
We are all responsible for, turning towards vegetation
To feed itself and newcomers, burning furs, pouring
Water on fires, while elephants thank us for not stealing,
Their tusks to make ivory jewels and piano keynotes.

So my dear friend rest assure, humankind will continue
To evolve. In the process indeed it will find a way
To live in harmony with its equals and its world,
Until the day, like any other species before it, it will
Go extinct to be replaced, by something different.

For nature also implements its endless creativity,
Next invention of which, we might as well be,
Primitive ancestors.
On humanity and evolution
Eriko  Jan 2018
Untitled
Eriko Jan 2018
flutter of fain keynotes*
chiming of icicles
rattle of soft hurts
and embraces of affection
flowing warmth
*and desire for artistry
Robert Gretczko Aug 2016
i write at night
when the world goes quiet...
           the time is right

meanings, reflections
       all that's been acquired
flow to words keynotes to times...
      that have expired  

the comings and goings of
          things now a mist
soon take life's reckonings
              that seem to persist

a place, a face... bumps and clicks
clocks filled with daylight and
          slow-burning wicks

shuttered terraces ablaze
  in the sun
closed and forgotten
      march on a breathless run
roxanne Sep 2021
Funerals mean something to everyone,
Even those without loss, without grief, without hurt,
without missing people,

without missing people.

The indiscernible presence of nothing is still something, speaking somehow because sometimes it is the absence of everything that keynotes a person,
a gap left waiting to be filled

a piece you thought didn't yet contribute to the endless, cascading broken parts you've come to familiarise yourself with.

I thought I knew what it meant, with each passing person who has let me down, with each scar that's been left with me, with each door and wound left open or closed

But I didn't
You don't know

You'll never know until it's here, and even then the only truth you have to keep is knowing the infinite beating repetitions of beginning to end, start to finish to start again.

To meet that ever rising glass ceiling is to know humanity, to live it every single day,

To attend, to run from, to face with your ugliest moments

The funerals of everything you thought you knew ringing at your feet

So sometimes I'd like to ask silently,
Would you attend mine?
When I leave this sliver of earth only seen by hands and eyes,
the questions follow me just like all their voices do

Would you meet me again?

I keep wandering, wondering

Will there be wild grasses that grow after me?
Will my loved ones love me even when I'm gone?
When the lights are no longer left on,

When all that's left behind is a memory of things they used to think they knew,

When the candles blow out and all that's left is absence and the mumbling loudness of nothing drowning itself out in darkness

When the words I speak end and become only words I've spoken

Understanding I'll never be able to explain to them in human terms again what it means for me to be here still

— The End —