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Kevin J Taylor  Jan 27
"Don't be silly, Dad, I'm your only daughter."

"Yes. But you'd still be my favorite even if you had half a dozen sisters and as many brothers."

"And your mother is my favorite wife."

"Oh Dad, you only have one."

"... At a time. And anyway, she would still be my favorite even if those other wives were favorites too. If I loved them all as much as you."
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
Cindra Carr Jul 2011
Sweet Salacious Sally was a special girl.
Long and lean, Sal wore pearls and kept a blackjack in her purse.
Shiny and bright, Sally was doing all right.

Sweet Sally rode up to my house on her jet black hog.
When Sally came by, attention was paid and the game was on.
It was time to play so I slid up behind her.
Last looks left the neighbors gawking.
Sweet Salacious Sally was a special girl.

Nat Lipstadt Oct 2017

This is not a poem.  This is about a poem.

Poems require words.  This poem does not require words.

This poem requires memories' muscles.
This poem requires what is called colloquially love.

Learn that what we share here is not poetry.

Your poetic senses that produce the words that mark you present
are but surgical tools to extract, release the whole and the parts of you that help shape that single sense borning in your chest that defines you at any particular moment.

Quæ est mater Laureat.

She is the Mother Laureate.

She is the boundary you must learn to cross to be more than a re-arranger of letters and alphabets, but a translator of the human essence and fill our veins with the a sense of awe and wonder felt when we read each other and think aloud,
"yes, exactly, that was and is precisely what I was feeling."

She is the glue that keeps us sticking here, sticking together, each of us sticking to it.  

You do not know her?  
No worries, she will find you when you least expect it, perhaps
when you need it.

This is not a poem.  This is a human who's a poem.

Understand the difference and then you may begin a journey
that has no destination other than weaving the connective tissue that makes us anticipating excited when we log on.

Happy Birthday Mother Poet Laureate!

I do not think I can write a better not poem for you.  
Forgive me then, if going toward, I repost this every
October 24th as long as the chemical composition of
blood, God, spirit, logos or reason runs free within,  
exiting as words encased in tears that formulate into
human poetry.


P.S.There are 800 poems here with Sally in the title, and least 700  are about Sally B.   If you like, please  feel to free to add yours, old or new.
Tommy Randell Sep 2017
I've caught the virus,
the virus of You
Your DNA has become mine too
And like viruses do
Through all of history
I've become a carrier
Of your elegant mystery

My symptoms are smiling
And being distracted
A little naïve and overly romantic
The world knows I've got you
And I'm contagious
In every poem I breathe
Over hundreds of pages ...

It was a one time thing
In a room of silence
A point in time that is now time-less
A nervous smile
A single tap of your foot
Being there as you played
Was all it took.
Sally G** is an immensely talented Flute Player from Sheffield, England. Falling in love with her was as simple as this poem suggests and as long lasting - I was in a pub over 25 years ago participating in a Trad Irish tunes session ... and she played.
Smoke Scribe Mar 2018
my sally my Sally

a wonderful double entendre
for it’s time,
my internal clock chiming

to sally forth and give the due
to where dew in her garden resides,
poetry becoming sweet tears
in all our eyes
when the philipina rain thirst quests our quenching

there is no reason no request for
this sally poem but a tickling thought suggests that a good friday. could be the trigger, or that
pandora bringing me Ave Maria as I compose
the due and the dew and the do are a

the best poems are the un-requested  but the most needed,
the most holy
bulletcookie Feb 2017
Saw your light through a darkened window
a flickering ghost of silence and promise
In this night's clearing all things look shadows
obscuring our eyes, convincing our ears
running into dreams of freezing legs and arms
weeping memories of past, past

Know that winter lasts a season's vapor breath
as great wheels of life turn eternal fears of death

Then centered comes our compassed sun
In a field, by a hill, a mare stems with her foal
butterfly dancing 'lites on flowers of gold
as Flicker birds defy their gravity so bold
on Linden trees of scented summer

Turned whispering hours of a newcomer's fare
ventures chaconne's path of daybreak's flare
and harmony of morning chirps in felicities' care

≈ cec
Skin white
Lips curled,
Eyes like
The end of the world.
He says it's him...
Not her!
It would have stood
If she'd had fur.
Open his throat
Unleash the flood,
Dabbing and dancing
In a fountain of blood.
♡sally rojas♡

Cuando estos pilares
Sean derribados
Serás tú quien
Lleve la corona


Yo te lo
todo a ti

¿Cuánto dolor ha
tu alma?

¿Cuánto amor
Te haría completa?

Tú eres el
Que me sirve
De guía.

No puedo encontrar
Las palabras que decir,


He recorrido
La mitad del mundo
Para decir

Te pertenezco

Entonces ...
Ella me ataca
Como una Leo
(signo zodiacal)

Cuando mi corazón
Está dividido
Como Río de Janeiro

Pero te aseguro
Que mis deudas
Son reales

No puedo encontrar
Las palabras que decir
Cuando estoy confuso

He recorrido
La mitad del mundo
Para decir

Tú eres
Mi mu(sa)

¡Ah! ¡Responde,
responde a mi ternura!

¡Vierte en mi!
¡Vierte en mí la euforia!

¡Responde a mi ternura!

¡Responde a mi ternura!

¡Ah, vierte en mí la euforia!

¡Vierte en mí!

¡Vierte en mí la euforia!

Responde a mi ternura
Responde a mi ternura
!!!Ah, vierte en mí la euforia¡¡¡

Solo te pertenezco a ti

No puedo encontrar
Las palabras que decir

Llegan demasiado tarde

He recorrido
La mitad del mundo
Para decir
Que te pertenezco
You get
Bad eggs
From bad crows,
Your tangled tongue
Tickles my toes,
Punishment for the crime
Of trying to please?
Those aren't the flames of love
Around my knees,
They're the cackle and crackle
Of a crocodile's lies.
Remember when it was you
Licking my thighs?
Belly blackens,
Blisters swell,
I'll come back for you
From the fires of Hell.
Verse 1:

Words of wisdom
Gather dust

Works of art just
Turn to rust

And no one
Even seems
To really

The songs we sing
Don't mean a thing

A heart beat skips
Another dream

And the only
Thing that
I can even


It's good as

In the

It rules the

As logic

The reason's gone
The chaos won

It's time to choose
The side your on

As for me
I will be


Verse 2:

As we embrace

Lose sight of the

Each day much more

To follow only
The blinded

Returning to

As everyone begins
To sing

Let it Be!
Let it be-ee-ee!

But as

Written on my
20th bday
You have been my shadow
Cast on a distant wall
I have danced as your echo
We have shared a single soul

Often I've wished you nearer
Always I've wanted to know
How you made of me a believer
Why I've never let you go

My head says you were ever
Always worth the knowing
And my heart says, still together
We could get to where we're going

Your Life is all beginnings now
Honestly you have my blessings
I see you looking back and know
What we know has no ending
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