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M Vogel Sep 27

.. will it scale?

Can its brick and mortar  ramparts
be penetrated?  

Probably not.

Now, lifted up;  
pinned  up against it
there is a *******
that will break through

Within the wall's crumble
there is a rebirth..

A Heavenly emancipation--
and the most beautiful  of flows

let freedom ring
CarolineSD Sep 24
With such cold rigidity some are able to carefully build these walls
And I try to imitate the craft,
But alas, my heart is far too soft.

When darkness falls, gently, across these open plains of
Windswept grass
It takes nothing but a single breath to
Lay my spirit bare,
Fingers of the starlit night reaching into the wild
Tangles of my hair.

And how easily I let these barriers
Fall all the way

All the weight I’ve carried upon my shoulders dropped,
Just like that,
Just like a soft and silken gown
Strewn across the cooling evening ground.

And how I also crumble and fold,
How these painted walls
They do not hold

Because I am not afraid of love
And I beg the floodwaters to roll like raging
Oceans whipped by cyclonic storms
And I bend into the breaking of the stones
And my heart is screaming
Let them fall!

No, I do not try to cage this eternal seeking of my soul, so

Let them fall

Let them fall

I will always turn towards the sunlit warmth of love,
Arms reaching forever out
Though it may be better to arm these walls,

I will always let them fall.

I live breathless and free in the breaking.
That's what love feels like
You have limits for closeness
Distance has no limits
If you can remember any distance story
You end up in seeing closeness
Cause closenesses are memorable
Not distances..
My Dear Poet Apr 4
I hold a very little box
with very little things
little thoughts
little clippings
of smaller things
I’ve often folded myself up
and placed myself in
waiting in my little box
for a little time
for a little while
I sit with a little smile
I’m not asking for much
nothing bigger than the box
nothing more than two
room for me
and a little of you
AmIEnough Mar 25
a kiss sounds a bit messy
too much saliva
the taste of breath

it’s the after-the-kiss that i like
(the before is good too)
but the after


the closeness
the intimacy
the sweetness of it

nuzzles and breathless laughs and endless smiles
two people tucked so perfectly
into the gentle hollows of each other

i want it
i want to be breathless with you
noses touching
fingers brushing
two people loving

hands shake a little
tremors in the wrist
as my fingers touch
you, light as a summer mist

the feeling fills me full
this sensation of bliss
it’s so good, so very good
this lovely after-the-kiss

i would close my eyes
to just breathe you in

the points of contact:
(where i feel you)

where i feel my pulse:
(it’s everywhere, like the scent of you)
behind both ears
left side of my neck
right wrist near veins
inner right knee
arch of my left foot
under my jaw

too many places

am i dying

that feels like a possible outcome

i’ll die happy
in love
and sound

so many things i feel
so many things to list
there is so much, almost
too much, about
this lovely after-the-kiss
Just a love poem I wrote for my partner at midnight.
haifa audrey Mar 17
he thinks of a conversation
and just someone to sing to
so she settles with the most wakeful few seconds in the dark
something she needs to take from him
and he will exchange for the better, something like
a confession that collapse all thunder to the rain within her
like a faint song from a closing theatre
a moment from an empty, sunlit classroom
a graceless parting, a connection taken for granted
a chronicle from a man passing like the guises of autumn
to be passed around without the weight of one another
the goodbyes without the afterthought
preston Feb 21

Dirt poor  and
down trodden,
he didnt ask for this
this life  among the fallen--

My fuckerface,  he paid his dues
among the homes of the forgotten

Scandinavian/Cherokee was his pa
(tho not for long)
Crow Creek Sioux and German,  his ma..

and all along the Rosebud rez
his half-breed skin,  rubbed raw.

Ah,  my beautiful  sweet fuckerface--
you are  the finest  blood-brother
of them all.

Now the hardness of this world  slowly
grinds your dreams away
Making a fool's joke
out of the promises we make
And what once seemed black and white
turns to so many shades of gray
We lose ourselves in work to do,
work to do and bills to pay
And it's a ride, ride, ride,
and there ain't much cover

With no one running by your side,
my blood brother

On through the houses of the dead
past those fallen in their tracks
Always moving ahead
and never looking back
Now I don't know how I feel,
I don't know how I feel tonight
If I've fallen 'neath the wheel,
if I've lost or I gained sight
I don't even know why,
I don't know why I made this call

Or if any of this matters anymore, after all

But the stars are burning bright
like some mystery uncovered
I'll keep moving through the dark
with you--

in my heart,  my blood brother

M Vogel Feb 4
D Vanlandingham

I have gotten to the place
where I hate most everything
Except for the deep, raw truth

      of true brokenness.

And the love that I feel
for those  left so alone
undoes the twist of my hatred,

Bringing a warmth  that
keeps me alive, in my deep longing
to be with beautiful spirits,


i love you
M Vogel Dec 2020
D Vanlandingham

A close friendship--
so close,  that  we could;
we could touch the undersides of our
forearms together ,

One skin-- one opening up  to the other--
the blood from you, flowing in to me,
and mine into you..

       but within me :

Your blood would remain complete,  whole..
as would mine,  inside of you .

And at the end of our long moment  of
coming together
as close friends that way,  your blood
would return back to you--   whole, and complete..

Your very DNA imprint:  fully intact,  
as would mine, also..  your skin, fully
closing back up..   but still,  always remembering..

A closeness, so pure,  that there is
never a loss of who it is that you are..
  only gain.    

  Yes..  that is what I want.

If I gave you everything that I owned
and asked for nothing in return
would you do the same for me
as I would for you..
or take me for a ride, and strip me of everything
including my pride.

But spirit is something that no one destroys
and the sound that I'm hearing is only the sound

of the low spark  of high-heeled boys.

M Vogel Nov 2020

I cannot betray
who it is that I am,
little beauty-
and so, in doing so
I will continue to hold on
to that which I know
truly gives me strength;

I cannot help but hope
that as I do, the rain
that waters my tree
and helps me to stand--
also waters
and brings nourishment to
the very roots

of the beautiful sapling that is you.

I do it for me, because I know
that is what I must do-  stand.
Know that you are deeply embedded
within my very growth rings, so
as I stand
and sing
of the very rain  that
provides the very thing we need,
I stand for you also:

and everyone else who is a struggling
sapling such as I once was.

      You are me
      and I am you.

   We both thrive on the same water.

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