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Daniel Cuzzo Nov 15
I want to live under a rock,
on an island in the sea.
My life will be unaffected by others,
and I’ll live silently.

I’ll never experience love –
I’ll never get hurt.
I’ll never discover fire –
I’ll never get burnt.

I’ll live like a king – if there was, such a thing,
I’ll live like a poor man.
Or am I a man?
For there’s no woman on the sand.

I won’t know the world’s problems.
I won’t be prejudiced.
I won’t be a devil.
I won’t be a saint.

I want to live and die,
having gleaned nothing from the blue sky.
I want to turn my dust back to ashes,
carried away, back with the wave splashes.

The rock will forget me,
my remnants filter through.
In the end, I knew nothing and no one.
And me, I didn’t exist, no one knew.
The last two poems from 2008 are tongue-in-cheek sing-song kinds of poems.  I haven't written like that in a long time.
Sarah Flynn Oct 18
words were always being launched
across the rooms of my house.
insults and accusations were flung
from one room to the next.

it wasn’t long before those words
were replaced by objects.

whenever I came home,
ceramic plates and decorative vases
would already be splayed out across
our kitchen floor, wrecked and broken.

I learned quickly
how to tiptoe around the mess.
if I wasn’t careful, the soles
of my feet would drip blood.

I accidentally learned pointe
by avoiding broken glass.

until someone pointed it out,
I never realized I was dancing.

my movements were somehow
considered to be a performance,

but all they were ever meant to be
was an avoidance of pain.
Maria Mitea Sep 10
I look to buy,
I want to buy,
Something mooor,
For my soul,
Give me the buy,
In your fancy store,
Give me the buy,
Hopefully,
I can be mooor
I can make it feel mooor,
Poor craving soul.
Wants to buy,
Anything,

I want to buy in your store,
Something mooor,
Give me mooor,
mooor, mooor, mooor,
buy and buy, mooor,
Hopefully
I can be mooor,
I can make it feel mooor,
So much hope
For my soul,

Something to like,
the next moment
I don’t throw it away,
Looking to buy
Moooooor,
Happiness,
For my craving soul
Something
I don’t know,
Somebody help me!
Get out my soul!
Out from your store!

Please?!
Close the store door!
For my craving soul,
I’ll pay you,
Please?!
Just close that door!
For this craving Soul
I don’t know,
I look to buy,
I want to buy,
Something mooor,
For my soul,
I don’t know.
Inspired from a shopping trip I had yesterday at Winners store. The avid shoppers inspired this writing. There was a song rolling “ Give me more Happiness .“ I ended up with this poem in my pocket and more money for me ... 🧚‍♀️.
Aer Jul 23
we sail ahead
with sweet words on our lips,
and roses blooming in our heart.
our love comes and goes with the waves—
never fully escaping our awaiting mouths, nor
slipping through our brushing fingertips.
we're full of fear of repercussions, yet
a passion threatening to crack our
oh so precious facade.
yet that night as you cross the undefinable line
reached for my hands
pressed your lips to mine.
and just like that,

call me yours.
the line may be electrifying, but can we take the next step?
Tony Tweedy Apr 7
I will choose what it is I want to hear,
I will see only what I want to see.
Thus by doing so I can avoid facing up,
To what is now everyone's new reality.

I will believe what I have always done,
I will ignore all the hints of bad news.
Thus it is by doing so I can avoid having,
Unwelcome things I'd have to choose.

I will shut out all outside voice,
That threatens my imagined safe world.
Thus it is by doing so the glue will hold,
My version of reality wont then become unfurled.

Yes I will select all I want to hear,
and all it is that I may want to see.
By some fake  logic and false illusion,
The outside will have no reach on me.
Burying your head makes nothing go away. Sometimes fear needs to be faced head on. I don't like it either but sometimes it just is the only course.
She learned pointe by avoiding broken glass
Laying almost everywhere she looked
If she moved even one inch out of place
Her toes would drip blood red over the floor
She never realized how beautifully she danced
As that was her protection, an avoidance of pain
A dancer, a light born in darkness
Her potential tapped without any realization
But whenever she performed, there remained no audience
Except the broken glass that made her who she was
And that was alright for her
stop playing hide and seek with suffering
and just feel, God ******
fleeing from feelings means
the beautiful bluebird in your heart
stops singing
Gray Dawson Mar 3
The stars shine bright

as the moon emits light

It's all prettier than I write




I write about depression

My obsessions

and my daily confessions




It's easier to write

than to fight

most of the time




I write by candlelight

or so I wish

I instead write by a LED light

The one I bought on wish

but that's not the important bit




The sun & the moon

will always upstage

this fool

after all,

they're too

**** beautiful
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