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  Feb 2018 me
onlylovepoetry
you can’t right the same poem twice

hell, yes I can
in pointy fact,
only got one,
which gets re-righted
morning noon and evening-tide

substitute a variant spelling
wright vs write vs right
and the meaning changes thrice

the only thing i can’t not duplicate is those **** love poems
each unique and writ for the woman specific,
each love one, custom jiggered,
each poem, crafted, to her pulse
each poem, drafted, to her scent
none alike, and that’s why I believe
in the god who commanded "create her"
to make love poems in his way,
gave me millions of veins, an extra ribbing,
of inspiration to pray to...
my heart altered, modified, daily


**** poems
**** love poems
**** love
2/2/2018   10:14pm
me Feb 2018
there was a voice

that only spoke

to say everything

was wrong.


the line is long

the people waiting

unnaturally

bright.


the sky is gray

the weather is mild

the combination

strange.


your friends are gone

were never here

nothing is real only

fear.


after  

some time

it lost

the faculty

of meaning


but

for a while

kept

words.


run

slowly

nothing

is coming

until

ever

and

always

it

turned

a

rattling

hum
me Dec 2017
I am the pebble
sunk in the clear slow spring
watching the warm sky
and the bright green grass beside

I am the pebble
low in the dirt murky water
cowering in swirling tides
when the banks are grey and far

I am the pebble
after the water has run dry
sighing into mud
while the sun rises round and hot

I am the pebble
at the eternal hour
melting fast to putty
just as the sky goes black

all i love i lose
all i know i feel
all i breathe i choose
  Nov 2017 me
Mary Oliver
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
  Oct 2017 me
martin challis
Your thoughts are your prison
Or your prairie

Your body is a signature
Of the decisions you make

Your family
Is humanity

The expanding universe
Is a metaphor for your consciousness

Breath and space in your heart and mind
Becomes an infinite resource


Martinos @ 2017
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