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Has an app been developed yet?
joey Apr 2021
i sob into a gentle fabric
my voice quickly fading
with every gulp and gasp
and yet, my mind is
elsewhere

i think about the last time
i've been held in someones arms
the way their limbs entangled with mine
their hands in my hair
their breath against my neck

and im back to sobbing

i’m wishing for that warmth
in the loneliness of night
the press of another’s body
against mine, curled close
two hearts becoming one

and suddenly i’m sobbing again

the knot in my chest tightens
my gasps quiet down
my hands clench in the fabric
it’s weight deafening
my inconsolable noise

but then i think about them
and i realize i’m going to be okay
weighted blanket or not

and the crying stops
originally written on march thirtieth twenty twenty one
i'm in a semi-desperate need of purchasing an actual weighted blanket-
joey Apr 2021
Someone once said:
For love all love of other sights controls,
 And makes one little room an everywhere.
And it made me think
Dont we all wish for one person
To be our home?

Houses are four walls that protect you
But a home
Is a person who loves you
And cherishes you

They make everything better
Even when you are down
They brighten up your life
One day at a time

But when they leave
They take the sun
The moon
And the stars
With them

So how do you make someone stay?

Well you cant

You can just hope

That when they say “forever”

That they mean it

Someone once said:
When I tell you I love you,
I am not saying it out of habit,
I am reminding you that you are my life.
written today, april first 2021
the second and third lines of the first stanza are from the good-morrow
joey Mar 2021
infatuation
an intense or short lived passion
or admiration for someone or something
an elaborate definition right?
at this point i know this word well
it can be synonymous with puppy love
or a flight crush
it's the way you describe someone*
when you are in denial
about how you truly feel

when i was a sophomore
my hopes for senior year
included a high school sweetheart

but here i am
two years later
lonely
unhappy
tired
not in love

nowhere close to achieving the dreams
and hopes
a younger naive me
had for this age

part of me didn't expect to live this long
another-- upset that i have
without a choice
i've made it this far

infatuated with this dream of love
impassioned with creativity
and a solid outlet
not stuck at home
crying about the same old burned feelings

and yes. maybe there is a crush.
maybe slight feelings for a person
who is out of reach
too far away
to be tugged
into these hopeless arms

when i was a sophomore
i was happy with who i was becoming
and now i'm a bit disappointed
at how i have let myself lose that happiness
and had it replaced with

infatuation.
* ex. "oh i'm just infatuated" or "it is just an infatuation"
written march 19 2021 at 11 pm in my notes app
i couldn't get the word out of my mind and so i looked it up and the words spilled out of me (and yes it might be loosely based on someone in my life
btw "the more you know about..." is the actual title. i just felt like there should be a TW considering the reference to ending my life early in the poem
Antino Art Aug 2020
I greet you like a new shore with a wave that says hi and bye together.

Somewhere in between, I entertained the idea that we might have met on a train in Seattle once. We sat sideways on the edge of a deep conversation, staring out the window as the rain did the talking.

My mantra is an old Samurai teaching: defeat who you were yesterday. I told myself that I'll have something to say to you by tomorrow.

I write stuff down for inner peace. The pen is my sword.

I got it. When the pandemic is over, let's order clam chowder in lidded to-go cups and meet at the edge of a pier where ships leave. After a while, the sight of departure takes on a charm of its own.

I can talk to you more freely on higher ground, like a rooftop. Or a train platform overlooking uptown Chicago. It will feel like we've risen above the noise.

I make a pretty good penpal. I also have anime hair. And an enviable Samurai sword collection.

Do abs still count?

My brain is in great shape. Don't mind if the thoughts floating out of it are going over your head. It's better than going over heels. That would be hopelessly romantic.

Dating apps remind me of a formula in astronomy that says the odds of intelligent life beyond Earth are a statistical impossibility. Still, you can't help but look up on dark nights asking if you're alone.

I want to say I met a girl who I began writing about, the kind that doesn't just smile at you to be polite. Consider this an invitation to write back.

You'll get my name then,
-Annonymously Yours
Sudipta Maity Sep 2019
I put my fingure on you profile bar
to see you clear and have you more closer.
That the only thing every time I do.
Because,
yesterday's tulip still in the garden.

When the account blink online
I press my side button
and go for a sleep.
It's now a Enstine relativity,
that you are busy
with someone's chat or in my dream.


It's almost full -
text in form of draft.
Unspoken word with immature love.
I wish to format my brain
with full of your picture and smile.
But the backup is store in my heart
Not in my pendrive.
You have me in your contact list
I have tag you in my all poem.
I am waiting for a morning to pickup
that yesterday's tulip still in garden.
When we connect to our loving one by only social media
Steve Page Jul 2019
I met a bold painter
With no brush to his name
He held up his stylus
And happily explained
It's all about screen time
It's what you install
It's the choice of the subject
And this one is bald.
#newdaygeneration
Prompted by an on screen watercolour app and a surprise portrait from a new acquaintance at New Day 2019.
Bus Poet Stop Jul 2017
<•>

BusBusNYC (A Live Love Bus App)

•<>•

if you made it this far, so fare one,
be undressed with thyself and impressed as well,
for thou joints me in holy matrimony upon a living map

where our presences can meet
in virtual real time as if eye new what that meant

but that blue dot is where this body possessed can be located by the nearest satellite finger snaking down from the heavens to Cain mark my foreheads location,
just like on Game of Thrones

don't you desire me, or rather,
the knowledge of mine
whereabouts?

the who of me, that very useful information, can best be
seen moving crosstown on the M72,
which is a mythological bus for in twenty years eye never
seen it come, go, though all its stops clearly marked

see me moving in fits and spurts of bursts of movement,
leaping streets and avenues in a single
unbounded, unstoppable superbus leap

in a city of anonymity where all who walk it streets,  
ride the tides of its buses,
all ask a single Job-like question,
regardless of age,
"I am desirable, do you want me?"

eye say the ayes have it,
no,
this is not a great poem

but!
this live bus map app is the dating site ever created by
geeky human cells
alll this virtual meeting possibly leading to coitus  
with a stranger while Pandora serenades
with perfect synchronicity, playing and plying us with
Romance for a Violin and Orchestra in F Minor,
a combination musical **** work of
Dvorak-Mehta-Midori

this bus app is
the social media's most immediate,
so meet me on the bus
at Broadway and 86 Street
where our metro cards can be
merged and we will be recognized
as a legal couple(ing)
in the eyes of MTA,
a multi-state agency and be bound in bustrimony
(legally married when riding on a city bus, only)

jeez, a crazy poem, not just, not a good one

but a true tale from the one who rides the buses and only
alights and delights with regaling tales and tellings

of love sortie sorrow maybe tomorrow the busbusNYC
app wil apply itself a smidgen better and
let me love you even with
a good under the hood
bus poem

but!
someday we will,
this, thy poet,
who does desire youalone,
will hijack you and a NYC bus,
and visit the poets from India and
the Great Northwest

won't that be a fabulous poem!
Choudhury


https://appsto.re/us/nxo6H.i
What's New
The bus app can now help subgles locate
compatible mates interested in riding the buses and  falling in love
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