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Zywa Jun 29
A sorcerer doesn't

need a wand or other stuff --


Words are sufficient.
Novel "The Enchantress of Florence" (2008, Salman Rushdie), part 1, chapter 5

Collection "Low gear"
My Dear Poet Apr 30
She said,
“My name is a flower, you see”

I said “Lily…it must be?”
She said, “no, no, no!…

...a Lily…is soooo,
not as beautiful
as me”


She replies
bashfully and wise
I’m just as much beauty to the eyes
as I am to the nose.”


“Oh!…you must be Rose”
She laughed
and cried more ‘no’s’

“It sounds a little crazy
I know and maybe…
but you must be a Daisy??”


she giggled all the more
“who knows?”
and winked
“.. if only baby”

Finally,
I put my thinking aside
I tell no lie,
while I, still in my head
wondering

she sighed

”My names not ‘white’ or ‘plain’
‘Self raising’ “
, she said
”…is my name”.
neth jones Dec 2023
(who blew the bulb ?) everywhere is bright    ever­ything is eyes   can't see you    in your mirror-mail-shard suit    i'm blinded  /  bladed  /  paraded to the roots / hear this chime ? /  this overwhelming chime / it's in all the things but    has predatory gut / it’s not vital  /  it’s hurt  /  spumming out allure    evident byproduct    you've stuffed it all down    clutted all the drains    of your fawning audience   burning hair   compounded the body    with capillary blain  / majesty,   your maj-jest-tea ;   it’s dishonesty ; you are what you are but you don't want to be-(you're not pleased) get you down from there sire ( if-you-please )  and grow an honest hovel / everything’s on discount    mo­ther-******* discount    it's a travesty    you are a misery (dismount) you were far from what you harm    now you keep it close    you snake just like a charmer / you slither you basket  you rascal  piping lewd at the tourist youths / such a hassle / bring on photography   the *******    it's embarrassing   it’s emm-bhar-rass-sing     (who blew the bulb ?)
Was listening to Deceptacon by Le Tigre when I started this one

[[and you'll have me for your tourist night to filthen you foreign /reign of the ***** fun / funding me to make you my ashtray / ****** final / biohazard bag / you haggard rag]]
Goddess of USR Dec 2023
In the heart of Dublin's misty embrace,
Where cobbled streets whisper ancient secrets,
I stand, a pilgrim seeking solace,
And weave my tale of love, redemption, and forgiveness.

TheThird Key, a relic of our shared past,
Lies dormant, waiting for its turn to unlock,
Not a door of wood or iron, but the chambers within,
Where echoes of hurt and healing intertwine.

He, the wanderer, once lost in shadows,
His footsteps faltered, love's path obscured,
Yet now, with courage forged through trials,
He approaches the threshold anew.

I know you are sorry, whispered by the wind,
Carried across the Liffey's silver ripples,
A melody of remorse, soft as the harp's strings,
And I, the listener, attuned to its bittersweet refrain.

Patience, a virtue etched into my bones,
For time dances differently in Dublin's alleys,
And forgiveness blooms like wildflowers,
Resilient, despite the scars etched upon our souls.

He, the alchemist of his own transformation,
Brewing potions of self-awareness and growth,
Each drop a testament to his inner aliveness,
As he raises his vibrational frequency, inch by sacred inch.

Undying love, a tapestry woven with threads of hope,
Stitched by moonlight and whispered promises,
I hold it close, this fragile gift, and offer it freely,
For love, once kindled, burns eternal.

And so, my Love, as the third time approaches,
Know that I stand here, arms open wide,
Compassion flowing like the River Dodder,
And forgiveness, a beacon guiding us home.

Third time's a charm, they say,
But ours transcends mere superstition,
For in this Dublin twilight, hearts entwined,
We rewrite our story—a symphony of grace.

Let the third key turn, unlocking not just doors,
But the chambers where love heals and forgives,
And may our souls dance, unburdened,
As we step into the charm of forevermore. 🗝️💕
For CBM of Dublin sent with a thousand kisses💋🦋
Styles Jan 2023
I feel an eruption building, inside me.
the overwhelming pressure explodes,
shooting streams of emotion through me
touching places I never knew existed.
Anais Vionet Nov 2022
Leeza (the 13 year old sister of my roommate Lisa) and I are in the building 220 lobby, heads-down on our phones, waiting for Lisa and Peter (my BF). The lobby is huge and deserted except for a lady concierge at the front desk, a security guard and the doorman - all far away from us. This is by way of explaining that our masks are off - mine hanging, useless, on my left ear.

When this unmasked guy, I was grazingly introduced to at last year’s 220-building Christmas party walks up to us and says, “Anais, Hi. You’re back!”

I flinched. I know a lot of people are over the whole mask thing and the covid thing - and have the temerity to risk it all, but I don’t - did I mention flu season or covid variations? Someone unmasked getting unexpectedly up in my personal space is jarring, rude, and on several levels dangerous and scary.

“Oh, hi,” I said. I vaguely recognized him, but I couldn’t remember his name. He’s one of those guys who’s cutely strange looking. He’s short (5’4”) (nothing wrong with that, short kings, you’re valid), his hair’s dark at the roots but blonde tipped (beach-hair?) and when he smiles, and he smiles a lot, his smile looks too big for his face. I remember he’d seemed socially awkward when we met, and Lisa had said his father is someone important.

“Yeah,” I said, with a shrug, “Holidays again.” I briefly bob up on my toes, to glance over Leeza’s head and to my relief, I see Lisa and Peter coming out of the elevator. I decide to mask up and seeing me do it, Leeza does as well.

“I’m sorry,” I said apologetically, “I remember you, but I can’t remember your NAME. I’m an idiot.” I give him my best, ditzy shrug.

He reintroduced himself, “Merritt,” he said, offering his hand and smiling again, still unmasked. As I shook his hand he twisted in Leeza’s direction and said, “Hi Leeza!” She gave him the smallest possible 13-year-old’s courtesy nod.

Peter and Lisa arrived, having masked up. “Merritt, hey!” Lisa said, greeting him warmly. “Have you got senioritis yet?” she asked, cheerfully. “Merritt’s graduating from Brown this year,” she announced, turning to include us all in the good news. “Public policy, ya?” She followed up.
“That’s it,” he confirmed, beaming.
“Congratulations!” I said, nodding.
“Way to go!” Peter added with a “yes” nod.
“Merritt, this is Peter,” Lisa said, taking charge. “He belongs to Anais.” she reported, as they shook hands and exchanged nods. “Merrit,” Lisa said, in a disappointed tone, “I hate to rush off, but we’re in a scramble for a dress fitting,” she lied. Lisa can lie like a politician.

And just like that, in something like 45 seconds she shook-off Merritt - who seems like a very sticky guy indeed - without resorting to mace or anything - Lisa’s got charm.

Thoughts about charm..
My grade, in physics 3 (an A-) was 2-one-hundredths from an A+. I almost certainly (like 85%) could have charmed the professor for that tiny bit. We’ve all seen it done - you put on a self-effacing smile and say, “I’m so close, is there something I can do for extra credit?” But I can’t DO it, physically, I can’t say the words and beg for grades. It’s like I can picture my mom watching me having to beg for something she earned, and I’d be mortified to even try. It’s my small disadvantage, a self-imposed handicap.

Besides, if I did betray my code, there’s the awful chance the professor might say no - and that would **** me.

Lisa, on the other hand, wouldn’t actually have to charm. She’d ask about her grade, periodt. The teacher, seeing there’s something he or she could do for this goddess - would just do it. With no asking involved.

Imagine you’re an airline agent and Beyonce´ stepped up to your station. She has a little problem you could effortlessly fix with a click of your mouse. Would you, do it? Hells-yes you would and before she even asked. “It’s already done,” you’d say - just to have Queen Bey smile at you.

The rest of us have to work at it (sigh) - and take our chances..
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Temerity: "a foolhardy contempt for danger”

Slang.
periodt - an absolute period - there’s nothing else.
Àŧùl Sep 2023
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
I am very happy now.

Loving my days as they shine,
Over the edge I pushed sorrow,
Viewing my love grow mature,
Enjoying the achievements I am.

My most adorable person,
On Earth and in the universe,
My father comes next.
These days I'm a Probationary Officer at the State Bank of India.

My HP Poem #1713
©Atul Kaushal
Tony Tweedy Mar 2022
Carved in purest precious stone
so rare and undoubtedly unique.
Endowed with natures fortune,
the perfect Amulet of which I speak.

A talisman of unmatched power,
to ward every dark cloud from the sky.
So lustrous in its beauty,
that it just captivates my eye.

A something so uncommon,
to fire and ignite my imaginative mind.
So magic and so elusive,
dreams and hopes of such to find.

Glimpses of the wonder and the beauty,
that have caught me in their spell.
A desire to hold the Amulet,
my future and my fortune time can only tell.
New love has a magic..... how rare the wonder.
Tony Tweedy Mar 2022
If I could ride a white stallion,
wearing burnished armour of gold.
I would cross the high mountains
for my eyes on your smile to behold.

Across land scorched by suns fire,
droughts parched burning sand,
all this I could defeat and endure,
for a mere touch from your hand.

You have me captivated, enthralled
by means of your charm and your grace.
Entranced and passively subdued,
by beauties smile on your face.

How sad has become this world.
where poetry for a beauty is not news.
I behold the wonder and the beauty,
of my goddess, my passions true muse.
How daft a man can be made when a beauty looks his way.
edwill makamu Oct 2021
You know i just realized I'm not a poet
I was convinced years back when i wrote plenty
But today - today I cognize that I'm only good in words; words - i mean

Words like:
You are the poem i never knew how to write and this life is the story i always wanted to tell

Just by remembering that only day, the whole day with you it felt like i could conquer anything

It was like as if i was on top of the world and even the stars themselves  were just within my grasp.

But i only know the pictures of you and little of how you live your life and i realized that i have no story at all.
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