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(be-tween and be-twixt)


the most precious but precarious item
in our possess, value far above rubies,
this love overflows, but it drowns me
from within, for it has no home for
pleasured sharing and goes wasted, excreted
in tears and exhalations without destination

condition incurable, and the doctor advises,
projects, a life span rangebound from

imperative that this love be
disbursed, pressure relieved,
fluid and gases shared,
send it forth,  
Doc behests,
you’re a decent human,
tell your tales,
follow your motto,
write those love poems,
always leave them laughing,
and give them love in smiles
bringing joyous relief to your clogged arteries,
all this the bare minimum,
for you must moreover grasp and clasp
your body to another, for this
the best transfer transfusion
of all your needed love needs

go be needed, be great, be lessened,
be all three
and never walk alone,
with just hope in your heart,
for the heart, automatically refills,
and this the best, medical opinion…
for all those with too many love poems
requiring expulsion and extrusion
Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2022
I stand and wobbily make way to the door

Night fallen so quickly again

Afraid of dark
Shut the door and turn around
Not before flipping the lock

Instead of going to move amongst glowing lights and the odor of *****
Slip into pajamas and slide under the covers of my dependable bed
If patient
Sleep will find my skull eventually

So once more I am left in the space between dreams and reality
To float amidst streams of wind inside my empty mind
I S A A C Mar 2022
i like to revel in the grey
black and white too straight
i like to read in between the lines
i would like for you to be mine
but only if you want to
I only want you in this room, underneath the full moon
kiss until it’s noon, is forever too soon?
from dusk to dawn, the king or the pawn
as long as you want to play, my hand is yours to take
from weak to strong, we can build each other up
as long as you want to lay, always together through the night and day
Àŧùl Aug 2021
In between my legs
is my missile and
I want to launch
it to your crotch.
My HP Poem #1937
©Atul Kaushal
Zack Ripley Jul 2021
Chances are I'm not the man I think I am. Chances are I'm not the man
I make myself out to be.
Chances are I'm somewhere in between.
Chances are it's the same for you too.
Now, whether that's a good thing or bad thing, that's up to you.
But whatever the answer, Chances are,
you're amazing just the way you are
Andrew Rueter May 2021
To the person who's sexually attracted to children
but has never acted upon that attraction:
Thank you
it's not always easy doing the right thing
and I understand the stigmatization you face
in a society where advocating killing you is socially encouraged
for the forced productions in the privacy of your mind
usually stemming from traumatic childhood abuse
but don't let them stop you from getting help
for the misery and frustration associated with
constantly denying one's ****** urges
for the sake of others.

Nobody is born an angel or a demon
walking along we pick up horns or halos midstride
often confusing one for the other
often trading one for the other
often naming one for the other
until heavenly hellspawns
attack with horned halos.

To the person who perpetuates the stigma against those people
through edgy internet posts and comments
like it's some sort of controversial sentiment
that isolates those people until they crack
usually just so you can virtue signal militancy
so you can feel good about yourself through persecuting others:
Maria Mitea Mar 2021
It is snowing today with Crumbs of bread,
the Crumbs pass through the air,
fall, and only where they do not fall,
and only who does not nibble on them,
every day a flock of birds flies
around a Crumb of bread, an anthill feeds,
There were so many of us around the table,
like giants in drops of blood,
my mother didn't scold us
if the Crumbs fell on the floor, rather
a sister or brother pointed the finger:
you have made Crambs, it falls from you,
not from me, from you, see how you scatter,
- I just swept around the house,

My mother knew how to calm us down:
"The Crumbs come to our house from heaven,
grandparents, grandmothers ask to be remembered
my dear children, it's a great pity to quarrel
or blame each other when you eat at the table,
- you know, we, people whatever place we pass
we leave behind us Crumbs,
you better call the birds to nibble at will,
and let the Crumbs also make wings.
the transition between heaven and earth
George Krokos Dec 2020
Result of trade war
between U.S. and China
- corona virus?
Erian Rose Dec 2020
as the planets inch closer,
stardust trembles.
lights of green hues
and vibrant blues
dance overhead.
I'll follow the north star
over mountainscapes,
and everything in between
to be with you.
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