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Nat Lipstadt Mar 11
“I write blurt by blurt, edit once, then post and send it out like a puppy”
that is learning to walk, impossible to walk straightly,
thank gawd for walls and laundry baskets and single sneakers
that obstacle us into trouble, opportunities always a near
but never fatal crashing,
and our whisking swishing tail is an ever
countervailing, counterbalancing
waving gesture of
there we one goes from nearly, nearer, almost another
nearest disaster

that is the style of substance of how I write
headlong smashing, bouncing off walls,
regrouping spindly words into a balletic
clown show,
startling off in a new and unforeseen direction,
scrambling energy like three sunny side up eggs,
whistling and crackling and popping,
god, this writing stuff is **** tiring,
so much easier to respose,
chew there upon,
selectfully taste and spit~select
a single word,
picking the appropriate apropos,
taking a nap in between,
of escapading words
that tumble out,
falling all around,
requiring reassembly like
an impossible-to-put-together
new toy,

here for you to play with
for your sensory pleasure
is my latest greatest
which rhymes with
which I will imbibe
after eating all my

commenced 3/3/24
pitch black god8 Sep 2023

By Ariana Reines

The city was humming gently under me
Like an adolescent quaffing deeply
      from the cup of righteousness

Out of practice with my own world
I was looking at how someone else saw it

Longer than I realized
Longer than I care to admit

Those goggles left a mark on me
Then I stared at my own face

An invitation came with my face
To melancholy while Nature

Purred at the edges of my perception
And before me lay a broad road

Enjoining me to do of myself and make
Of myself according to the American

Tradition. Secretly I felt and knew
Things I had not perceived my body

Turning into secrets. In other words
I did not notice the mechanism

By which something within me noted
My experiences and apprehensions  of ‘the truth’

Would not be met with favor if I  spoke them
Which is not to say one speaks  only to find favor

Only that unreciprocated realities  have a boring
Way of haunting the cells

Pulling them somehow down
Like the countenance of Cain

Which fell one day and never rose
Again, and the fall of his face

Rhymed with the fall out of Eden
Leading to the first ******  and the invention

Of cities, where we now find ourselves
Each tower the ghost of a farmer

Who failed to meet the favor of the Lord


Anne Boyer is a poet and an essayist. Her memoir about cancer and care, “The Undying,” won a 2020 Pulitzer Prize for general nonfiction. Ariana Reines is a poet, a performing artist and a playwright from Salem, Mass. “A Sand Book” won the 2020 Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award. She runs Invisible College, a study hall for poetry, sacred texts and the arts. This poem is from her next book, “The Rose.”
i value
as the source of our knowledge
and take their
with a pinch of salt
knowing for full sure and certain
HE is real
for knowledge
where else would one go?
but to the ONE who KNOW
in this beautiful garden
valley of tears

energising inanimate objects in which i type with mud and water on mud on water
flowering out of this mud
farmed to eat the mulberry bush
for the secret i on
if only they knew they would not do they things they do
pharma key ah!
Apro Dec 2022
A lot of things have changed
A lot has gotten better
But the Pain hurts more when you fall from higher highs.
hazem al jaber Jul 2021
By decision ...

the dream speech ...
the picture drew ...
as we both needed ...
as we talked ...
don't you remember ...
sweetheart ...

don't you desire ...
to meet me ...
as me talked before ...
to keep all the night ...
at our place ...
among stars ...
to break ...
the silence ...
and the walls of shame...
until we rock the passion ...
by bodies ...
with every part ...
mine and yours ...
to create a universe ...
a different world ...
our own one ...
alone , lonely ...
only me and you ...
all our life ...

don't you desire ...
my love ...
that dream ...
which we both drew ..
together onto that night ...
when we met ...
by our eyes decision ...
with  that silence ...
on that dark night ...
on the light moon ...

don't you ...
please ...
come this night ...

hazem al ...
Tisungeni Mlenga Jul 2021
I realised I wasn't really committed,
I lost focus when you were brought in the picture.
Maybe we should be more like brother and sister,
But Dear Anonymous Girl, my mind is stuck with ya.

I don't know if this is a love song or a poem,
But I hope the rhythms in my heart remind you that I can be your home,
There's a thin line between my life and yours,
They just called that distance "not for long"

I know I'm not the apple of your eye,
Now I understand why I saw my guardian angel cry,
But love is like an ocean that anybody can find,
But you're too special that's why I found your river on the side.

I can't say you are the angel of my heart, but,

Love Yours,
The One who wouldn't break your heart.
Poetry by MAN Dec 2020
I live
Much more I have to give
I write
To set imagination aflight
I feel
A hunger but not for meal
I need
Failures to succeed
I'm still around love y'all!!!
Tonight, let me think of all the worst decisions I’ve made,
of all the wrong people I chose to love,
of all the junk I ate every day,
of all the sleep I lost,
my life was at a bottom cost
yet, I lie here, sleepless, daydreaming,
and *******
oh so far away,
are my heart and soul,
that they’ll never love again.

haripriya S
stashed memories to elude, help me write.
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