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Bad Luck Jul 2018
Doing a dance,
to wear a mask,
To play a game that you can’t stomach . . .
Just so that the truth doesn’t have to face you,
The way you recoil from reflections of yourself.

You’d forsake your happiness, your health —
                                                  You would burn it all.

To do a dance,
To wear a mask
To play a game you’ll always lose.
             To look in a mirror . . .
             To tell an image, that it’s anything but you.

And it is in that moment, that you'll find
                           You’ll tell the unfamiliar truth
As you bleed and feed
                           Your own obliterated youth . . .

To feel, and then
                          to lose —
Just like the loss you always knew

                          You would find in disappointment.
Like an unholy anointment
                          of your least desirable possessions
That retire from the heavens
                          Back to you.


To betray, and to amuse
                                                          A­lone.
The ides of irony rejoice!
               For they’ve found their lamb... or
their ever-dying muse.
                 Forsaking life itself, you clamor
To see others just like you.

And maybe, one day, one will choose
           the path that you can’t leave,
As it reciprocates to thee —
            Two partners in misery, fated to excuse
the waste of each other...
            until they find there’s nothing left.

To feel the flame within its breath consumed.

Wearing a mask,
To live a lie,
                And die a death,
                Whose dance you six-times misstep


                              And on the seventh, betrays you.

"Bad Luck: In a Wakeful Contradiction" is now available on Amazon in paperback!

Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1691941182
Scott M Reamer Apr 2013
Man life know just set eyes way like young world soul day hunger space mouth earth thoughts ignorance blind things mind knew final moment human creation kind creatures souls high forgotten dream love spoke self existence face holy deep bound think home void say surrender ear forever called held ephemeral red state end shall heed hope edge living waking fall sea wake garden need February thought past wanderer got men page colored tepid terrible **** proudly untitled features point painted faceless box forgot render wild spring splendor  handfuls looking half brain lost torn ancestral  unseen vision inner summer honor mister owned banner save today fear groans wasn't smoke  street fable strange year contrast black years  able pain body spoken word known motion  palpitate reeling nature culture disclaimers  cancer beg attentive frames ****** base profound double remember wholly finger death token  cries continue folk oh fishing form broken true  divides spread ah twas away breathe wait 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You are what your reading lady. Now would you hold this gun?
Leone Lamp Apr 2021
Last night, I was exploring sensuality
******* an inkling at the basis of reality
Nibbling the earlobe of the next global catastrophe
Can you smell the Earth as she moans in total ecstasy?
The Universe reciprocates and ******* a galaxy
We're all in this together
And not inconsequentially
Today I learned that consensually is not a word, and I think I'm better off for it. The last line had been "And I hope it is consensual(ly). As my love just reminded me, none of us are here because we wanted to be. That was someone else's decision.
~2010
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
Here's the thing about second chances;
After the first one you're just being           used
No matter he says and dances
Your sweet personality is abused

When one can't let go
Waiting for the right moment
Feeling oh so low
Becoming more than broken

He manipulates
But karma never reciprocates

Crying- being vulnerable
He apprehends
While you're not able

To comprehend

Seeking a lover
Or perhaps just being lonely
He starts to smother
But it's him being phony

He manipulates
But karma never reciprocates
From my whole slew of unrequited love with my best friend poems.
Mark Toney Oct 2019
~ If selfishness precipitates, love will evaporate ~


Perfect present from heaven above
You and I, we fit like a glove
Please let's not fight
It's just not right
So happy that we're so in love

Let our relationship grow
               ~love reciprocates~
Let sensation be sensible
               ~kindness mitigates~
Let meditation be met
               ~patience celebrates~
With love that's suitable

Cultivating our love to grow
We must let communication flow
Please hold me dear
You have my ear
Talk to me I want to know

Let our relationship grow
               ~love reciprocates~
Let sensation be sensible
               ~kindness mitigates~
Let meditation be met
               ~patience celebrates~
With love that's beautiful

A three-fold cord won't easily fray
I thank God for us every day
Through thick and thin
You're my best friend
Blessed that we feel this way

Let our relationship grow
               ~love reciprocates~
Let sensation be sensible
               ~kindness mitigates~
Let meditation be met
               ~patience celebrates~
With love that's suitable

With love that's beautiful
With love immutable
1/30/2019 - Poetry form: Lyric - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Blain Rogers Jul 2013
If I held a petal,
from a rose,
in my hand,
I think that I could feel it shrivel,
with the hate of a hundred men.

You cannot feel my thunder,
although it trembles true.
A million moments of laughter,
every time I think of you.

I hate you like a cold breeze,
that tears right through my skin.
I hate you so much more,
because you are my sin.

To live a life without you,
would take my soul from me.
But I guess it's like they all say,
that love is like the sea.
Emanuel Martinez Oct 2011
Prayer is said to be powerful.
Well this soul begs the Grandest Force in this universe
to place love in this being's life.

A flower of one's own that radiates with one's soul
and reciprocates the actions
to nurture it beyond disbelief.

This spirit is not sully
wondering into such ways is only dangerous.

If this heart has already been dismantled
by the only flower who received the transfusion of one's love
the being cannot take that back.

Reconciliation regarding the breathtaking
and impossible cannot be taken back.
Chunk after chunk...that part of the mechanism is falling to disrepair.
June 2, 2011
endorsinglife.blogspot.com
Jeremy Betts Jun 2023
There's all this talk around me about some profound we that's never found me
They taking a collective we?
One agreed on collectively but conveniently and continuously minus me
Is it the me, myself and I type we? Cause defining a trinity might not unveil anything holy
Or could they be referring to the we that turns to just me when things get a little bit heavy?
That kind of we?
Maybe they mean the we I'm supposed to automatically call family
Even though history will show them as a two faced enemy
Both ones I've picked or have befriended me, eventually it's contempathy from a frienemy
An uninterested we that hardly reciprocates the love that's expected to freely flow from me blindly
What baffles me still is this bloodline we that aren't even aware of me
Or they are aware just unwilling to add me to their we
Coldly my psyche reminds me, "you're nobody's somebody buddy, sorry."
Personally, I say let 'em swing from their positions above and beside me on the family tree
Unfortunately they will always be a part of the conversation when discussing this we
The good, the bad and the ugly represented by said we but projected on me
Now listen closely, I claim to have came to this conclusion organically

There is no we, only me

Nonsense spewed when angry but the me I try to hide visually, the one projecting he doesn't need a we
Cries out for somebody when times get lonely, lies and said I'm my only company
Cause I can not see the we that is meant to be, the we I thought was only a dream of a faded childhood memory
It's not only right in front of me but all around me and already a part of me
I had no idea this door even had a handle for entry with a keyhole much less a key
Apparently it was the skeleton type and had to be pulled out of me
Reality blends with fantasy in the best way, what else is there to say? I've found my we and another reason to be happy

©2023
alexis  Nov 2022
scented candle
alexis Nov 2022
my bedroom carries the headiness of stale captivity. the teeth of a years old trap are gathering debris where they’ve gnashed on my leg. my loved ones come to relieve me of my suffering.

the gentle winds bring me dead leaves in layers of red, yellow, brown and the occasional purple. “look at how they’ve changed,” the winds say. “things can change for you, too.” i brush them away. indignant, the winds whip dust and pebbles that become bullets at the right speed, threatening tornadoes that will never come. i wait until their lungs tire.

the cleansing rains rinse the matted blood from my wound and refresh my hot, mangled skin. “doesn’t that feel great?” the rains say. “you can feel like this all the time if you put in a little effort.” i dry myself down. angered, the rains disease the trap with rust and drench me until my bones attempt to float away, threatening tsunamis that will never come. i wait until the water recedes.

the giving earth sprouts a flower in the corner of my bedroom. “life is still growing, waiting for you,” the earth says. “you just have to come to meet it.” it’s a beautiful reprieve for my senses, i almost go to pluck it. as i come to realize my motions, my heart drops to an unknown place away from my chest. i hesitate. furious, the earth wilts the flower until it blends in with the rest of my bedroom. it shakes the ground violently, deepening the pain of the metal in my flesh. it delivered on earthquakes but threatened no aftershocks.

the lively sun dries me of the failures of the wind and rain and earth. the sun says nothing. i make no effort to repay its warmth. it reciprocates that lack of effort.

i have exhausted the affections of the elements, and in their abandonment now rests a deep stillness that urges me to look around.

over time, i have accumulated the barest of pleasures — some unread books, some unplayed records, some small tokens of loves long gone — that mimic a home, but bring you no closer to what that is supposed to feel like.

the odor in here is disgusting. unsophisticated in my aching, i wish for a sweet-scented breeze, or a balmy rain, or a fragrant flower.

or maybe i will just order a scented candle.
With us uncertainty is our only certainty
Doubt the bedrock of our surety
We see each other and we smile
But it lasts only but for a while
This insanity our emotion brings that costs us our sanity
It’s like alcohol, our sobriety
We both are big enough we are our own community
As right as this feels, it’s a wrong in our society
We are trouble to them, the sign of a calamity.
So we see in secret so they we would not berate
We love even more sweetly and oh! It feels so great
I respect my love and L’amour this feeling deeply reciprocates
Where this love boat us will take
We have no clue and leave it all to fate
And while we wait,
We'd love, smile, kiss and date
-r3d-
Hossanna Scott Jan 2015
Always giving your love away will leave you drained
emotionally and physically
You can give and give and give
and someone will always take, take, and take some more
You have to find the people worthy of your love,
because your love is one of a kind
Find someone who reciprocates the love you give,
because you can only live through life being drained but for so long

— The End —