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Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Lost in the Heaven
Silent, disciplined, majestic calm
Every where.

There,
I missed  the noise,
And you.

Bought  emergency return ticket,
Back to Earth.

Cheers !,
So here, we are.
Theme: Home is where, our Heart is.
jas Jan 2018
cheers, to the pain
to the boy who forgot your name
to the one who makes you crazy
to the ones getting faded

hold your head up high and your drink up higher
day 26
Amanda Stoddard Jan 2018
I watch the ache in my chest
for you
dissolve into a quiet whisper.

I rethink every decision ever made
as these memories are telling me a story
about my progress
as if it was someone else's

will I always stand inside the shadow of another?

will even my own not be enough company to keep me sane?

why do I love lonely but crave the embrace?

I'm watching my expression change,
with every single word I say
and every single thing I feel.

it seems it's all imagined,
the desire for infatuation
and lust and connection.

it's all just ego.

I am nothing but
a whisper in the ears of no one.

should I even speak at all
when my words don't mean anything to even me.

never have I been trusting.

and here I go-
coming undone again.

thinking the world of myself
but the world is ******
so that's counterproductive,
isn't it?

paradoxical contingencies
keep me awaking from these dreams.

go to sleep it's a nightmare
and wake up it's the same.

my vision is getting blurry
and my voice now shakes
from inadequacy.

I love every part of me
so how could this be happening?

my shadow laughs back at me,
reminds me I am the same girl I was
19 and addicted to things.

almost 23 and it's more of the same-
23 and I've lost almost everything.

so what's another 23 years?
Dara Slick Jan 2018
I want to spend every day in a bar.
Drunk or not,
the atmosphere relaxes me.
To read a book,
to chat it up,
to get knockered too early.
I want to do it all in a bar.
Preferably one made of dark wood and many stories.

To become a regular looks bad in retrospect,
because no one believes its a place of good tidings.
It is though.

*****, bourbon, bar tenders ears.
Therapy free of charge. (unless you order something)

I want to spend my life in a bar,
sad to the public,
but bliss on my tombstone.
I love bars, they fuel me.
Western civilization commercialization,
commodification, communication
methodologies adrip with deification,
edification, glorification institutionalizing

libidinal market, the vast majority
modalities relay transmission via
subliminal messages. The not so
innocuous tentacles housing sour advertise
mints objectives conservative

principled paradigm blatantly bind ******* clad,
seductively alluring fashionable
supermodels, albeit highly paid visually
captivating physiques of men and/
or women attaining just barely,

their prime time asper anatomical
fancyfeast. Tis upon that ascending
pedestal, (a mere hop, skip, and
jump along the red carpet royal
treatment), where storied career
launched. Inevitable that risk  

risque monkey business tactics (i.e. questionable
ethical, moral, and parochial
precepts skirted). Nonetheless
marketable cache cows frequently,
indubitably, naturally sally forth into
klieg lights of fame and fortune.

A significant entry vis a vis segue-
way into celebrity stardom invariably
included acquiescence treatment
as sale-able merchandise. A
representative penultimately

pitches packaged person (possibly
pampered pink, perhaps poignant
playbook perused 'pon Peter Piper
picking, pecking pickled peppers)
peddled as analogous to a widget.

The primary difference contrasting
parading an aesthetically pleasing
individual versus a purveyor peddling
an inanimate object includes heavy
emphasis toward repurposing
a person larded amidst salutary,

savory sensuousness, soothingly
sublime sultriness steeped, groomed
and bathed with visually arousing,
beguiling, captivating desirable effects.

Professional (astute, cute, hirsute)
role model people, (whose genetics
and environment allowed them to
husband maximally fated beauty)
must feel very comfortable

in their own skin to display (just shy of
promiscuity) unclothed ******
verboten part. No doubt pheromone
or testosterone pulsates thru
the body electric of viewer. Coy,

flirtatious indirect luring operates
randy unfettered yearning bestirs
desire for immediate *******!
Even this two score plus nineteen

year old, (whose libido went
dormant as a side affect of
pharmaceutical prescription
medication to minimize un
predictable paralyzing panic

attacks predilection) attests at
increased precocity patronizing
my (FAKE) phallus. Many instances
incorporating some athletic,

demure, innocent looking
photogenic subject just waiting
to be the cover of a glossy
glimmering glamorous
magazine (especially an
underage male or female),

the head honcho may be
censored, disallowed, escorted)
away from any picture that hints
of inappropriate physical inter
action. Subtle techniques

and/or poses broadcasting
a delectable, honorable
laudable photograph may
unconsciously connote
spine tingling sensations
approximating statutory ****.

Such prurient intimations defy
being regulated, nor ought
flattering images snapped
by avidly conscientious,
exceptionally gifted, ineffably
kindred shutterbugs banned.

Impulsiveness (particularly,
when the welfare of a minor
OR animal happens to be
at stake) must be addressed
appropriately. If abusive

actions arise perpetrated
against a minor (simply
for anatomical excitation
sans the gender nonspecific
characteristic), the essence

of beauty best be acknowledged
synonymous with any other
physiological endowment.
Depredations highjacking

lost precious quintessential
tenderness wreaks havoc
for the remaining life of
hypothetical individual cascading
like a house of cards, the mental,
physical and spiritual states of being.
Happy new year poets!
More books to read
More poems to write
More stories to pen.

Forget not to breathe
Burst out your feelings
Shed your tears through the ink
Hooray, rejoice in every words written.
solfang Dec 2017
happy new year,
never thought that
the current me wants to
celebrate another year;
filled with uncertainties -
but countless possibilities
happy new year guys! had a hunch that it's gonna be a great year ahead
Lex Jan 2018
Cheers!
To the moments I spent alone
Cheers!
To the times I laughed in your home
Cheers!
To the times I spent with you
Cheers!
to the times you were there when I was blue
Cheers!
To the time I climbed the watch tower
Cheers!
To the time when we picked flowers
Cheers!
To the late night bench talks
Cheers!
To the haters who tryed to mock
Cheers!
To the times I cried myself to sleep
Cheers!
To the memories that I get to keep
Cheers!
To when you stuck with me during their fight
Cheers!
For him showing me the light
Cheers!
To the fun i've had

And cheers!
To the fun that's yet to come.
HAPPY 2018 EVERYONE!!!
Another year, another start. You choose where you want to go
And most importantly
Cheers!
To Hello Poetry accepting me into their realm of love! Thanks guys<3
~LJ
Rick Warr Nov 2017
​where the hell did you come from?

my callow frame in younger days
was cause for derision and nick names
i was “will o the wisp”
who disappeared when side-ways
magically reappearing when front on

i was lean and keen
a blonde-haired light surfing machine
now when side-ways there is a bump
a belly **** that wasn’t there before

was it habitually too much lunch
that steadily grew the paunch?
was it all those beers and cheers
over the years and years?
was it the invisible slide to a life sedentary
that expanded organs alimentary?
or is it a denial of my peter pan myth
that with age i just have to put up with?

anyway suddenly it seems to have come
but where the hell did it come from?
i looked down one day and my form wasn't quite as it was ?
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