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MG 1d
Art
My most “popular” poems are about You.
The pain You caused,
inspired my greatest art.
If I had the chance to tell you,
I wouldn’t.
Thanks I guess?
Annika Mar 8
she tries her best
but she has no idea what she is doing
International women's day
David Berger Mar 5
Why am I this and why am I that?
Do you think I prefer staying oblivious to these questions?
I didn’t make myself, then why am I accountable?
What holds these answers if anything?

All I know is I’m here
I am who I am
I might change in the future
And I might be lying to myself about who I was before
But I’m all here now, and I have the power to look back

What am I?
Human
Shameless
Passionate
Perhaps even attractive

What baggage do I carry?
Perhaps more and less than the average
Perhaps I have a brain cell or two to bring along
But no matter how hard I try, I’m still the person I was a second ago
And that is a life-long sentence
Just some soul-searching.
The alarm got us up before the sun fully awoke
we pulled our sleepy bodies out of bed
got on our grungies not even fixing coffee yet,
got our gear together in the pickup
and headed for the peninsula
where we hoped the sand bass would be schooling,
searching for some breakfast of worms or flashy things that looked to them like food.
If we were lucky we hooked a few which we would cook later
or save for the freezers back home.

When we got back to the campground
we’d comb our hair brush our teeth and head into town
for Pat’s Cafe who served the best biscuits, eggs, hashbrowns, and pancakes in the region
and if we were lucky Pat herself with her long black hair and **** lips
and substantial hips
would stop by and in her Texas twang and charm
she’d tell us about their farm
we’d speak of our wives
and some of the small details of our lives
and how we loved that large beautiful body
that sparkled and sang to us each spring
and how we savored dipping into Lake Whitney.

In late afternoon we would laze about the RV
discussing Theilhard and Jesus and Charlie
he’d speak of Bob Wills and we’d share
trying to make sense of the spirits there
and how they made us leap and soar.
We spoke in sync and explored
lines of novels, and fascinating texts
that made us eager to discover what was next
that would make us laugh or shed tears
of all those memorable years
we’d been brothers
afloat of the same waters
becoming men who hoped to make their mark
spark something good in the minds
of other seekers who also drank wines
fermented in corridors of learning
who had the same yearning
for knowledge and truth
embedded early and deeply in our youth.
ESHÉ Mar 3
I am grabbing at light
Collapsing in on myself, sinking further into an endless night.
Seanathon Feb 22
My hopes were lower than the floor of city puddles
Until, until
The sunlight came which was your name
And evaporated me into the clouds
And now all that's left is the little sounds
Of the new me falling all around

With a ripple I change
Becoming rain
Gosh... I really like how this one turned out. Not that the expression is perfect or that it's completely about me. But the flow, the flow.
Ellis Holden Feb 15
Charlotte I'm so glad
that your          voice
                and freedom
were found
but now I feel
it is time to find
my
                                         own.
     -the tried and true of growing up
there are very few people in the world who will ever truly understand you
so let them say what they want, you are not in control of the way you are perceived
don't allow temporary people to explore your soul
the depths of you should only be welcome to those who can appreciate the valleys you've walked and the scars you wear like tattoos
there are people that will praise your failures and hope you stay tethered to the pain of your past
I hope you understand these are the ones that need love the most
I hope you learn to give it from a distance
you'll find that it is necessary to let things go, people too
you'll find that burning bridges isn't always a catastrophe
I hope you learn to love the sound of walking away from what is no longer meant for you
you were made for more than this
Rana DiOrio Feb 13
You

make me laugh;

wipe my tears;

hold my hand;

see the person I am . . . and the one I am becoming;

dig me;

are patient and kind;

know I’m a force of nature;

communicate best without words; and

manifest dreams with me.

I

celebrate you;

listen to you;

know your heart by looking into your eyes;

anticipate your needs before they arise;

connect with you deeply;

think you’re super cool;

cover your blind spots;

am your fountain of positive mojo; and

belong to you.

You + I = enduring love. I am ready for you.
She sat beside herself and asked,
“Do you know where this feeling’s from?”
Her self stared back at her, unmasked,
And wondered who she had become.

Who but herself could ever know,
These things she thought that she once knew?
“I barely know you now, and so,
When was the last time you were you?”

The two of them, just her and her,
Each tried her best to understand.
Her self said, “Why are you so sure
You’re not exactly who you planned?”

“I wanted to be you instead,
Before you filled me with regret.”
Her wounded self smiled back and said,
“Perhaps you haven’t been you yet.”
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
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