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 Sep 2019 Shylah S
Nat Lipstadt
all I've learned from love


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for the fedora man, 10/29/17 10:34am

<•>

another song done me wrong on a Sunday morn,
so much due to do, a list not for compilation/publication,
including poems promised and weighty deadlines overdue,
for its tedium would still be lbs. heavy in weightless space

instead a lyric plucks my attention, of course beeping,
insistent chirping a chorus of, write me right now,
immédiatement dans son français de Montréal,
this is the item that needs to be list topping,
now whispering a messenger-angel name dropping
a request formal from the fedora man dressed in black

all I've learned from love,  
a listing doomed to comprehensible incompletion,
a listing to the right as new reasons in-come
constantly from the left, each heart beat a
remarkable reminder that the list grows longer

every day, the repeating seasons, proffer suggestions,
disguised as a newly revised ten commandments,
obedience to which is a wish list for
attaining grace

all I've learned from love is its duality, essential quality,
a human single cannot attain the commingling required
for the visioning a peak season of life colorful,
its sad corollary, leaves falling exposing the body bare-****** of the soul linear alone

all I've learned from love is its shining skin is an agreed upon
indefinable nature, other than we all recognize how our
definition personal exists in that Ven diagrams space where
our circles intersect, when A breaks the skin of B, creating
{A,B}

all I've learned from love is without it no matter what
somewhere inside is a desperation pocket that is
an inquisitive irritant, a brain burr, a pea under the mattress,
a high and mighty 1% of disarmament incompetence that rules the imbalanced balance of my bottom line on the top of my head

all I've learned from love that it appears on its own timetable,
in surprising trains and planes and baseball games, sitting
alone in a theater or in front of a Rubens, on crazy disastrous
first dates in foreign countries at cafes or non gender
specific bathrooms amidst alternating currents of
this is crazy and this is infinite and ever so sobering
wondrous possible


all I've learned from love is it never shoots straight,
but will always end in a holy bullseye


*Tout ce que j'ai appris de l'amour, c'est qu'elle ne tire jamais directement,
mais se terminera toujours dans une sainte bullseye
 Jul 2019 Shylah S
Sam Clemens
Sex
 Jul 2019 Shylah S
Sam Clemens
***
The moment of
utopia
Where ragged breath is
  broken
And for a second,
gravity consumes the both of us
A small section from a longer poem
 Mar 2019 Shylah S
melika
I am attracted to your body
the way you dress
the way you move
the way you smile
its simply perfect,
to me at least

the way you walk
the way you talk
the way you look at me
the way you just touched me with a hug
it makes me love you even more

and i cant stop looking at you
watching you talking to others
or even when you're just sitting
and do nothing except breathing

i cant stop looking at your beuty,
your hair
your eyes
your lips
your skin

and when you comme and talk to me
i look at your eyes and cant stop it
you smile brightly
i love that smile

i am in love with you
please never stop smiling at me
 Dec 2018 Shylah S
Dennis Willis
Ah revolution when is your time
as things have evolved
to a known way

Form, good form has been worked out
Rules codified and agreed upon

One half of the involved Humanity
Happy in the known
Known at last
Peace

The other half have had it
and are ready to blow it up
and start again
revolution

Usually these two are married


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis
 Dec 2018 Shylah S
jenna
a letter
 Dec 2018 Shylah S
jenna
dear you,

i’m in love.
yes. you were
waiting, i
bet, for this.
this time, though,
it is not
what you would
think. it’s me
this time, not
you, although
it’s still you,
but not in
the way it
used to be
you. it’s my
fault this time,
my doing,
my painful,
pitiful,
suffering.
it’s you in
the sense that
i cannot
control you.

this time,

it’s your mind and your thoughts
the things that slip off of your tongue
the words you put, pencil to paper
the ideas that come out in your songs

it’s your eyes and your sight
the careful observation of beauty
the need to bask in warm, pure light
the stare you give me, rarely now

it’s your movements and your touch
the hugs where you grip my shoulders
the times where i’m drunk and playing with your fingers
the warmth you give off and your gorgeous smile

none of them
are mine to
have, to take
to keep, to
love, to break

i miss you
and to go
and detach
to break what
we have, that’s
the hard way
out. but i
am trying
to help me.

i feel the
same way i
did when you
said i was
wrong about
this. about
how i feel.

i’m hoping
disposing
myself of
you, means that
the dreams will
go away
too. but if
they stay,
i’ll give you
a quick call.
probably
a text, to
be honest.

i love you,
unhealthily,
with every
part of me.

keep in touch,
please.

love,

me.
it is better to regret doing something instead of not doing it at all.
 Dec 2018 Shylah S
K Balachandran
Night is a river,
The moon sails on her dream boat;
-Shambolic waters!
Amid the darkness,
the moon shines bright.
The sky scattered with stars.
You lay your head.
The day is done.
To pause for a moment,
To recharge.
Is the world asleep?
Are you the only one
With heavy lids,
With ticking mind?

Needing sleep,
Your brain refuses.
Is there a list to write,
a moment needing worry?
You check the clock
the time ticks on.
5 hours till your alarm,
Four hours, three, two
Will you get any sleep?

Panic starts to creep
You'll oversleep,
You'll  miss the day,
What if you never wake,
What if no one wakes?
How can you sleep?
There's thoughts to be had.
There's chores to list,
Your day to plan.


Where's the pause button,
The off switch?
The mind can wait,
Tomorrow will come.
Rest those lids,
Let yourself go
And drift away.
In our darkest moments
Our minds are a glow of creativity...
 Jun 2018 Shylah S
Barker
Voices II
 Jun 2018 Shylah S
Barker
Is it really worth it?
Does loving you out weigh the cons?
You mean everything to me.
But I have these voices in my head
Telling me it's wrong.
These voices make me second guess everything.
I don't know.
What if I'm doing something wrong?
What if you don't really love me?
What if I'm just fooling myself?
...
What if you're just playing with me?
I've had my heart played with before.
What if this is all just set up for heartbreak?
I can't withstand another break up.
What if?
...
These voices keep me up at night.
I can barely sleep.
Sometimes I don't sleep at all.
I just lay awake thinking of all the possibilities.
I can hear the voices telling me that you don't like me.
I can hear them saying things that I know aren't true.
But they make me doubt everything.
I don't know what the truth is anymore.
And that scares me.
(c)ibarker
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