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Vin DeStefano Oct 10
Oh Lord,
the days you'll spend,
With a vision of hope,
and love's extend.
Oh Lord,
the hours will pass,
The scope of time,
in heart will clash.
Oh Lord,
the years elapsed
With soul on fire,
and mind collapsed.
Take into heart,
the soul and mind,
In logic's place,
your heart will find,
a love that's pure
and big and bold...
...within lovers hand,
your hand might hold.
Hey. Our philosophy teacher gave us an assignment about something with luck and hapiness, so I'm writing to you again. (Not that there's a difference) I love you. You make me one of the happiest people in the world. And, I'm really glad that you are in my life. I really hope you feel the same thing. You make my heart skip a few beats whenever I see one of your texts popping up on my screen. You manage to make me smile at any hour of the day. You light up the world when it's too dark for me to see. You make me so happy. In a  that no one else does. You make me smile in such a manner that people sometimes ask what the cause is of this 'happening.' You're just, everything? You're beautiful, by the way. I'm gonna tell you until you believe me. Because you really are beautiful. People always say that you look better when you laugh, but you don't even need to smile. Not that I don't want you to smile- You smiling is one of the best things in the world to me. I don't really know how to explain.
I'm wondering why I keep writing everything down. We don't live in the 17th century anymore. Ah well, not that it matters.
Sometimes I'm also wondering if you think about me a lot. If you ever do to be honest. But mostly, what you think in those cases. It's not really a bother, but it pops up in my mind at times. When I say this, I think that you must also know that I think about you a lot. Whenever I see a poem (Which I do, a lot) that reminds me of you or something, I get a little distracted from whatever I was doing. But, in a good way. I think. Can it ever be bad to think about someone a lot? It probably just shows how much you care, which I also do, a lot. I do really care about you. You're an amazing human being and I love you. It always surprises me how fast I can fill a page whenever I write something for, or about you. Well, it's not really 'surprising' me. More like 'reminder of how much I'm in love with you.' Welp. It's a good thing though, probably. I mean, I'm just writing stuff. It's not like I'm bothering anyone. (I hope?) And it just keeps getting better. You make my life a little better every day. So, thank you. Really. I'm so happy you're here. (You're adorable by the way) And hopefully, it will stay like this for a little while.
Sincerely, Me
Wow, u can rlly dancE :0
I wrote you another letter, but I wasn't able to give it to you today. I'll give it to you on paper if you want. It's exactly what I just typed here.
J J Aug 26
There she stands,
An angel with broken hands,
An angel with stones for wings,
She sings the sun away
And spins timorous sky ashade
Of wonder, thunder row'n’ down
Her body, she sang of me
As I died asleep

Another night, my eyes too worn to cry,
Too alone for an expression of lonliness
     To bare any meaning.

The sapphire trail
Skylark doled to drain
The riverrun grass of
       Substance built.

Lifted in hypoxic transcendence
Glistening with light, ****** gold,
Skin to lilt, and touch to felt
And dawn rotted unto morning
With one less life having made it.
Poetoftheway Aug 2017
"the ever shifting light of ourselves"
(a poem such as this)

For Jamadhi V.


at 11:09am,
the phrase arrests itself, then assertive,
ungently demanding fulfillment,
implanted, it cares not my whereabouts,
it is a child~phrase, inexact, mysterious,
wanting its breast milk feeding immediate
no matter where my presence visible

but to me, it stinks of familiarity,
for my shifts, my redrawn shapes,
exhausting, giving me cause to grieve,
write poems such as this,
which I regret both
before~after conception~completion,
written in a fevered misery of fervor,
no one ever likes it and its witnessing

as light ever shifts,
it consumes, extinguishes, reignites,
poorly lit, revealing dregs and dustbins

better then to sit in the darkness
the one you call,
getting it over with...



*the swelling and the spume

for Lucy:

who gave me the title, three poems, a compliment, and the X Factor {inspiration}
the spume, the sea foam concentrate,
a greener white
by the the salt and the souls of the
million dead organisms,
that are are the compost of its formation,
it, watches the poet, who watches the spume,
come ashore for its final act of
immolation by evaporation

which is why the random act of
an unseen ministering force,
fills my ears with humbling glory of
Samuel Barber's Agnus Dei,^
my fresh reminder that this swelling chest
in this temporary abode of mine,
by the sea, passage is prepaid for my
expiration by evaporation too,
all lambs march to the sea,
returning to spume
Lyrics to Agnus Dei:
^ Alleluia Alleluia
For our Lord God Almighty reigns
Alleluia Alleluia
For our Load God Almighty reigns
Holy Holy
Are You Lord God Almighty
Worthy is the Lamb
Worthy is the Lamb
You are Holy
Are You Lord God Almighty
Worthy is the Lamb
Worthy is the Lamb


"may all my lost lovers haunt me"

for Vinnie Brown

even your kindergarten crushes?

what burdens you seek to retain,
the edgy border of delicious and pain is a raggedy cut line,
as lost lovings rhymes with duality

Once upon a time,
a middle aged man
left the woman he married,
the one who drained and cruel reigned
over the destruction of his-dreams
for one accidentally stumbled into,
the love who blurred his edges as well,
between forgotten happiness and
pain so bad when she grew tired
of his life's complications and the
valises of drama,
she left him,
weeping on the corner of Broadway and 83rd Street

was that 20, 30 years ago?
a memory
from no matters land
the physical ache that marred the hearth in the chest for months and months,
sent him to the doc who smiled sweetly
but gave him, had no, no relief for busted grownup hearts
that had normal  EKG's

and that remains a treasured affirmation to this day of
life's capacity to love that comes with an ingrown danger
of never forgetting

did you know the French outlawed the use of the term
Mademoiselle in '12 (Mlle.)?

I loved that salutation,
calling my one true lovers
with the soft feminism of that address

and still do

and you want to recall
kindergarten crushes?

Mister Vinnie
possesses a lovely contradiction,
holding onto
lost lover sickness
that lives on in good love poems

this my new found poet
is how that he, this aching heart,
fast approaching his shore line for one last return and final departure
repays a sweet compliment,
from one who complements
another man's lovely's insane desire to
never forget any of it


reading love poetry and listening to
Joni M.,
at 3:09AM
never wise,
but always full of hindsight
Maria Nieves Jul 8
3 words can change a person
It’s not a bad thing but sometimes it’s not a good thing
Until you hear it back
Then you can feel the world stop
The idea is confusing
And just risky
Watching my friends get hurt by those 3 words
Those 3 words have destroyed many things
3 simple words
3 quick syllables
Yet it could affect everyone around you
But you said it
3 words
You don’t take it back
...but you do question if they said it back
When you find out if they did
Those 3 words are
Joyful, but horrifying
You're overzealous, while also anxious
Knowing that those 3 words were said aloud
Those 3 words might as well be your death
It could also be the start of something new
Guden Jul 5
I loved Alicia,
I wrote songs
For her.
I walked miles
just to sit
On her porch,
And kiss.
I never grabbed her ***,
She was too pure.
I met her family,
I befriended her dog,
I laughed
With her brother’s jokes,
Though they were lame.
She ended it,
She told me to go to hell,
I had kissed someone else.
Maria Nieves Jun 18
I stopped believing in love
Love has left this, bad taste in my mouth
It has a bad ringing in my ears
Yet everyone around me thinks that love could help me
Love has broken me
You cannot say that love can help me
All I have dealt with because of love is
And a lot of betrayal
Like don’t get me wrong…
I love my family and friends
But if you asked me if I “love love” someone
I wouldn’t have an answer
Just thinking about that answer right now
It’s leaving a bitter taste on my tongue
Love has been overused
“I love Pizza”
...would you marry that pizza?
I doubt it
“I love him...but he doesn’t love me yet.”...
Why does love have to this big gesture
It’s like the word “hate”
When people use the word “hate”, they automatically correct it
“Hate” is a “strong” word
Guess what!
So is the word “love”
Want to show someone that you love them
Ask them about their day
Talk to them
Listen to them
Acknowledge their successes
Comfort them during their failures
Love should only be used when you are truly ready to say it
And it needs to be sincere
Don’t say it because your partner said it first
They should understand that it’s not easy saying those 3 words
Sometimes those 3 words can put a knife in someone’s heart
Especially if you rush love
Love will come
When love is ready
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