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Andrew Crawford Jul 2023
Like a lonely rose
froze to stone,
heart hardened to marble
below a coat of snow;
barbed bones grow
labored and slow
but red petals
still radiate, aglow-
posed not quite open,
although not quite closed.
Emmy Jan 2023
a bitter exhaustion grips you by the throat
fear languishes your bones like lead upon your skin
a dark cave dripping numb from within

do i dare to look up again?
do i dare to give my heart as the bargain?
are you gonna break my fall,
or will you tell me you can't handle this all?

i dont want to start new anymore than you
for loving, feels like the flu
but maybe you’re the vaccine
ill take a shot of you, hoping then         i would feel              brand new
tell me, do you feel like this too?
From the drafts and corridors of 2018
Seranaea Jones Nov 2020

A displacement exists,
yet specifics defy the
scope of my radar,

sensing amiss like a
fellow would perceive
an absent billfold or

the way a hen may
feel one egg less
in her nest.

A lack exists for detection,
whether it be far away
or way too close,

it's gravity pulling me
toward the last glimpse
of it before fading into black.

Not so obvious as a
matador might lose
his cape to the bull


somehow i just Know,
with question marks
drizzling about—

sweating beneath the
skeletal remains
of my umbrella...

s jones
© 2020

sorry about the note, it was a
story fragment pasted there
by mistake
Deovrat Sharma Sep 2020
the mind of a person
overwhelmed by Self-deception
does not try to know reason
to think or believe in
advice and criticism given
by someone
contrary to his speculation
he always examine
as it was an insult to his disposition
he continuously remain
in the grip of apprehension
hostility and aggression.

©deovrat 26.09.2020
reyftamayo Aug 2020
agos ng galit
bulusok ng dugo
hininga ay damdamin
karugtong ng puso
kaakbay ng ngitngit
na kumakawala
lumalantad kahit pigilin
hindi kayang limutin
dahil taglay nito ay
walang kaparis na
kati para isambulat
habol ang hininga
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
A tendency or trait I have
to sense,
comprehend what others may not,
and then for it to go
the other way round,
put all the way
into the oblivion back.
A child in mature sage's eyes
and a sage in a ignorantly joyful, gullible child's eyes
I am.
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
I want my every lingering or zapping touch,
deep stare,
conscious step,
labored breath
and my given-over body
to be an engaging,
peppered kiss
to both My Lover
and the Universe’s matters
“I see you.
I love you.
I give myself to you solely
and you solely to me.
We’re each other now
and never to give one’s self away
to another being.
I’m done and made,
ready with you.”
An oath.
Vision of a gift and moment to come
for which My Heart will last and last
till it shall be fulfilled.
A bow of teary,
from loving,
For My Lover’s a form of the Life’s and Passion’s will,
already a person, in Me, incorporated.
Sorry, taken already, won’t go with a human even for all the pennies.
onlylovepoetry Jul 2016

"having found a white coal seam amidst the black bunting
that decorates their glum apprehension of tomorrow's tidings"^

the computer tablet recognizes as I essay,
                                                          ­                        the "tomorrow" word
as possessing a reality, with time sensitivity,
please,  somebody help us, almost

an inevitability

the possibility of a realizable event,
                           as if the poem composing was
the future's assuming a 99% probability,           right ready for scheduling

offering me two choices:
create event or view calendar?

as if the next shooting, bombing,
and my glum apprehension thereof,
as if ''tomorrow's" tidings were mine own doing
of my undoing,
somehow my fears create or anticipation of
the "next one" makes me a guilty part

my heart cracking with despairing moans
knowing that this is foolishness

              not to me

for as we think upon it, that tiny extra precaution,
'tis already the small death of me
each death a cut in the same spot,
and the pestering wound ground deeper, bone closer

find myself
jailed in a place with no view, insecure and unprotected

no view, no window to crack, no window no view
no to letting  in fresh air, hope or something good,
and yes to no,
I know about this and that and words
intended to offer up optimism,
albeit on a small scale

I am careful not to mock
the words and those who offer up

but seriously,

I came to,
I came to this place to write
only love poetry silly love songs
and some black angel sideswiped me in the left lane
writing now in stead of ways I'm dented and unforgiving
feeling stoopidly foolish            even as
I try and I try to find the seed germane to the connectivity between the horror hallmarks of these times and the ******* window is just stuck stuck stuck

I'll think I'll change my name,
only love poetry? cries out ridiculous

this is no poem, more a teacher's note of surrender,
                                                       come back with a new identity or just a new field of endeavor

so I put that on my calendar for tomorrow
and it appears right away, right after:

6:00 am Check on Glum Apprehensions
and it appears that I'm too late

confirming I've missed my appointment so too late for my kind of tomfoolery.             and that white seam, glimpsed but not grasped, illusion noxious,, I can't seem to locate it anymore
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