Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
These are all just bad beginnings
in my search for a show-stopper,
a jaw-dropper,
trying to be just the right balance
of sarcastic and lovely,
the right balance of writer
that I idealize and am not,
of course,
what am I, a narcissist?

I'm trying to put into words
the feelings I told you I danced
because they are wordless (spaceful)
and because of you
I have to say them with voice;
what a dilemma is this--

That when I tell you with movement
what I can't say
you put me in the place
of having to voice it and now
I have no words
other than bad beginnings.

So is that it?
When I word to you
instead of dance for you (for me?)
what you have to return is a nothing,
a less-than-nothing saying,
saying nothing, leaving me

hurt and confused because
maybe there was a something
in all your nothing that I can't find--
because we are dealing in words now,
and I'm a movement reader.

And I know I will forgive you for this
but I won't forgive me for knowing that.

Even while I'm still so angry, it just reveals
my pathetic (patient?) desperation for your love,

But I didn't say this right.
I need to move (dance) this.
Wonderful word wanderings
 Sep 2014 Shanay Love
Helen
Hey guys

I have found several Daily Poems from this site being shared externally with no acknowledgement to the rightful owner :(

Head over here....

http://thepoetryden.wordpress.com/author/thepoetryden/

and if you find your original work there then I highly encourage you ask this person to either a) link the poem back to your original or b) remove them from his site. He claims to be a poet and is misleading people by not putting original names/original links to the works he is posting!

Go through them carefully as the titles of the poems have been changed.

Please share this because I have read at least 3 poems from this site from 3 different people over there with no acknowledgement to the original author!

Update ~ Sept 6th 2014 ~ You are NOT going to believe this. I found Shane Linville on Facebook and you will never guess who is one of his favourites! Chris G Vaillancourt! That's right, the very same well known plagiarist from days gone by at HP. He was such an insidious piece of work

*******! Not the way I'd like to see my name next to a Daily Poem but getting the awareness out there is a nice thing too :)
Update... To those listed below with stolen poetry who can't access the link to the blog because its been made private you can still contact word press to advise them and they can check the blog to make sure it's been removed. His name is Shane Linville! I'm just sorry I didn't have time to go through everything he had posted :(
The link above contains the following stolen poetry (that I know so far)
Indifference by Purple Orchid is posted as Her Soul
The Bells of Civilizations Ring by Sjr1000 is posted as World of Disease
Morning Light by Silas is posted as Morning Light (no name change but no link to the original)
I am Stone by imadeitallup (no name change but no link to the original)
A Fool for You by MYstro mAdden posted as Your Love
These a just a few... If you know any of the above poets... please share with them
 Sep 2014 Shanay Love
Petal pie
His name purred on her lips; 
She loved the way it
Rolled around on her tongue,
Loosened her vocal chords 

Every time she said 
his name aloud,
It felt as though she were 
Becoming more and more
Well versed in him; 
His character,
His very being
 Sep 2014 Shanay Love
Jorge Love
I see you... inside.
I am a watcher.
I both pity and envy,
The wheel you run on.
Sitting here at my table
...Alone.
Watching you play
With the other rats.
I could never be
happy among them,
But you are.
I pity you.
I envy you.
 Sep 2014 Shanay Love
Jorge Love
Its funny how we sally onward,
Like trains on an unmovable track.
We make our scheduled stops,
Taking care not to pull in late.
Moving through the crowd
We stay inside our heads.
With stern looks
Straight ahead.
Towards the
Line's
End.                      
             ...but we are not trains
                                                          ­            ....we can set our own course
Give them to me.
All the pieces of your broken heart.
Give them to me.

I'll take them.

All the rough-hewn misshapen bits of your shattered dreams.


Give them to me.
I will take them.

Give them to me.


They are wanted here.


All the parts of your misspent childhood. All the regrets of ticking seconds behind you.

Give them to me.

And we will build a cathedral. A stained glass window of who we are as tall and as beautiful as it should be.

Let me have them.

And we will make a mosaic that stretches as wide as the sky. Showing every color your heart gained from the bits and pieces left on the ground.

I will take them.

And forge a sculpture of how beautiful the ideas are that we cast out in our failings and we will cast it in our failings.

Let me have them.

And we will ***** a monument of all the small things in the shape that you remember them.
Towering. Looming. Striking. Beautiful.

Let me have them so we might bind the words said and regretted, (or worse) left unsaid in leather and call it scripture.

Our Psalms. Our Proverbs:

“The tip of my finger dangles like my tongue. Wanting to touch something beautiful.”

“If it were not for him, it would have been us.”

“You were all my brightest colors.”

“I wish I were more like you.”

“I wish I were less like me.”

“I am sped.”


And we will read them at dawn like litany.

Stretching our voices to the corners of the universe. Asking for the wishes you make when you are scared. Or alone. Or both.

That we may take them.

And make a blanket.

A blanket to cover our childhood and let it rest at last.

I will take them.

All the parts you no longer want.

Give them to me.

Because they are what make us beautiful.

Give them to me.

That I may forge them into pitch and feathers and craft mighty wings.

That I may take flight from your worry. And soar on the updraft of your misconception.

Give them to me.
I will take them.

Because I would rather burn like Icarus than to have never dared to fly.
This was a birthday gift to myself. I am giving it to you.
Place your hand upon my chest.
It reminds me how it feels when it's mended.
Then use it to cradle your head while you rest.
The worst of it, like the day, has ended.
Next page