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larni 3d
i imagine myself with you, b.
i can see myself,  happy with you.

i can picture us on our first date,
laughing so hard we hold onto each other for support.
i can picture us walking together,
admiring all the local shops and galleries the town has to offer.
i can picture us holding hands,
and you holding me as we gaze out at sea.
i can picture us snorkeling together,
and how you'll laugh when i inevitably breathe in the ocean.
i can picture us kissing for the first time,
how our eyes will meet,
and how our hearts will explode with excitement.
i can picture us kissing,
and how our bodies will melt into one.
i can picture myself falling asleep next to you,
and how peaceful i will feel when i wake up beside you.

but,
most importantly,

i can picture myself falling in love with you.
truely.
so let’s break the distance.
oh, how wonderful life will be with you.
to: bailey hull.
His eyes
Held truth with no logic,
Piercing authenticity
That whipped my spirit
Into whirlwinds.
How could one
Be so bold,
How could he
Know my mysteries?
I will spend my life
Unraveling the secrets
Of his vulnerable heart.
Hello Daisies Dec 2018
Late night talks
Of boys that Ive loved in the past
none have ever loved me
Except one boy i thought truly understood me

For once in my life my feelings felt reciprocated
Possibly fell harder then I for them
We spent nights together laughing until dawn
We stayed up smiling all night fighting the yawns

He told me sweet things so casually i always wanted to hear
It wasnt a pickup line he just said how he felt
I felt a touch of this could finally be something for the first time
He made my heart and mind all a mess i could not rhyme

I wasnt afraid to be myself
He enjoyed every aspect of me
each night spent closer then the last
I grew to fall deeper
he made me love myself with all my so called sins

Too afraid to truly let it be
I ran away and hid
Thinking i ruined it all
he seemed to understand and not blame my fall

It was all happening
A real date something only in fantasy
Twas to happen after I confessed myself to him
the nights went by and i felt a sharp pin

My heart filled with worry as the day grew close
He went silent as a complete ghost
I wrote him with a sliver of hope the night before
He casually said nah I'll go with this other *****
This happened a while ago and tongiht ny mind decided hey im not over it.
Been in kinda isolation lately and just
Thinking about how I'll always be alone and always have ans the one time i got close
And it hurts
It also hurts to see others just like me also crt about being alone
Life is just constantly sad
life *****
but so do those with a
sweet tooth
met with candy
on a stink
so do dates
yikes
so do vacuums
i guess what i’m saying is
everyone *****
what *****?
Patrick Austin Oct 2018
My backpack ready for anything, I left for a voyage across the pond. As fellow passengers climb aboard I met a 27 year old traveling musician named Russ carrying his cajòn. He told me of his travels from Massachusetts and pending divorce. We related on this and exchanged CD's. Behind us sitting on the Ferry were two young girls working on a puzzle. Russ imposed himself and tried to impress them with his musical endeavors. These girls were in America from Germany attending college. One was 17 and the other was 18 but I am sure they knew better than to play into his hand. After talk of language and culture we disembarked. Russ invited me to his show that night but I had plans to meet a girl at a board game pub. I walked to the bus stop while smoking my pipe and caught the number 40 from downtown to a trendy neighborhood up north.

After I stepped off I found myself amongst the overgrown players of games and drinkers of fine beer. Brittany arrived and we chatted over IPA's. I explained my recent challenges to get the topic of divorce out of the way before we left for Mexican food. She was very open in saying I should play the field and not have a serious relationship. I agreed with her take but could not read her as well as I had hoped. She said I need to get the rebounding out of the way and explained that she too is struggling with commitment. Being 34 with no marriage or children under her belt she feels that therapy is essential to figuring this out.

We walked to our happy hour destination and shared Nacho's while drinking "Colorado Kool-Aid". Both of us having spent a lot of time in Denver we could relate on much but I felt there was an elephant in the room. Afterwards we walked to a nearby record store and browsed while talking about music and interests. She needed to leave soon having obligations to housesit and watch pets. Dog walking is her profession since her departure from the world of corporate accounting. We walked to her unkempt sedan and she gave me a ride back downtown. We talked of hanging out again but our schedule may not permit for some time. I wonder if she will entertain my company without reservation, only time will tell.

I decided to phone my old friend from Denver who lives near and devise another plan for the evening. The sun was still shining and I had no reason to return home yet. I walked to a nearby brew pub while waiting for him to meet me. I sat at the bar with another traveler named Dave. He is an airline pilot close to retirement from the state of Texas. We talked about my time in the Navy and my pending legal woes. He's been proudly married for 30 years and counts his blessings that he is still in harmony with his wife. My friend decided to meet me at a concert in close proximity to my date with Brittany. Once again I would take the number 40 uptown. Dave bought my IPA and gave me words of encouragement and complimented my persona. It meant a lot and I thanked him as I said goodbye.

While waiting for the bus I asked for information from a woman in her early 50's. She works for a tech company nearby but was happy to help as I had a more pleasant vibe than most of her young, urban, unprofessional colleagues. While unsure of my way she directed my move to get off at the next stop. I walked up the hill another seven blocks to the show. While smoking my pipe along the way another bus rider was two steps ahead named Nate. He was curious about my pipe tobacco and we gave brief anecdotes about ourselves. He offered to buy me a quick beer before my concert. I took him up on this offer as we walked into a nearby market. He purchased several large cans of domestics and afterwards we headed back down the dark boulevard towards the Abbey drinking our brew. As I arrived at the former church venue we parted ways peacefully.

I ventured into the bustling scene concealing my open container while finding my friend. I sat just as the opening act started. We enjoyed three musical performances but the star of the show was the beautiful woman from Denver that we both enjoyed during our time there. Feeling that we should explore the venue where Russ was performing we made our way there. I was sad to discover the brewery was shutting down before 10pm and the band was long gone. We decided to walk to the nearby singles bar playing music so loudly it could be heard from a block away. This strange place was crawling with many folks of the beautiful sort but nothing seemed to be attractive about it. We had a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon. I spoke to the fellow DJ for a moment but there was no dancefloor to be found. We decided to venture on.

We walked up and down the avenue and discovered another Mexican food restaurant, beaming with the young and the foolish. Our community seating was met with overly affectionate couples to our left and valley girls to our right. Our Tequila mules hit the spot with our Nacho's and late night platter. The girls spoke of Denver people which I thought strange. Why so much co(lorado)-incidence in one evening? I injected myself into the discussion and was met with friendly conversation. Unable to finish my Nacho's I knew I had fulfilled my share of fun for the night. This was the fourth time I had eaten nachos this week. We proceeded back to the urban adventure wagon and made our way to the slums of the tech-boom. My 2am slumber was met with an air mattress of great quality and woolen blankets.

I awoke at 7am to the clouded sunlight peering through the sliding glass door. I laid awake with my stomach turning from the many Nachos not yet digested. My housemates called me about needing to move my car for restriping the parking lot. Fortunately I left my keys so they were able to do this for me. I smoked my pipe on the patio while my friend "hit the gym". When he returned we decided to walk through the arboretum by the university and enjoy the sunny autumn day. Afterwards he dropped me off by the ferry where I waited an hour drinking beer at the commuter dive.

During my ferry ride home I walked up and down the passenger compartment looking for a fellow rider to play cribbage. I had no such luck and headed for the observation deck. While the city vanished behind us I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Manchester who had just returned to living in the US. We talked about the nature of selfies and the conflict of living in the moment. As we spoke a man approached me who had overheard my request for a card game. We walked back inside and sat next to an abandoned puzzle with pieces scattered about the deck. Mark introduced himself and we shook hands. It was not until he shuffled and dealt the cards that I realized this 45 year old Asian man only had one arm. His ability to shuffle and deal was impressive. His skill with cribbage was more than rusty, after one game I had a victory so great I felt guilty. He too is going through divorce and seeking a new job. It was a great way to pass the time with a fellow passenger.

As I readied myself for the porting I noticed a familiar face, a young sailor I served with in Mississippi. Our time spent together was met with sorrow as we faced similar career challenges. I had not seen him for several months but he almost did not recognize me. I had lost 50 pounds, left the Navy and become single all in a matter of a few months. I assured him I was on the dawn of newfound joy and wished him luck on his upcoming deployment. I patted him on the head as he seems like such a lovable scamp to me at this point. I exited the terminal to saunter back home. I smoked my pipe while crossing the bridge enjoying the last hour of sunlight.

I settled my belongings at home while serving myself a can of chili and a cold IPA on draft from my housemates tap. I joined him for the end of a baseball game in the den and shared a few moments with my community. I slept for a couple hours and then made my way to work. So much can happen in a day.
Not poetry, but what is life, if not poetry in motion?
Rafał Aug 2018
Like a leaf in the wind, I whirl around and fly
If I move my wings I might meet you in the skies
Right across the street, drowning in your eyes
Following your dreams or whatever might apply

Close my moonlit eyes, follow into space
Love is a disguise, and you cannot know my name
I live in the stars, right behind the frame
Look into my heart, my dreams wrapped in cellophane
Uncouth gait, do you believe in fate?
Silence in the air as the flower petals fade
Almost like the days, well I don’t follow the dates
And I’m, on the same page, till it becomes my main
Reading broken lines, looping all the words
And I’m breaking time, reversing the clocks
I don’t require a fire if I never had a spark
But, I could use your lighter if I go into the dark
Martin Narrod Jul 2018
250 Surf

And into the driveway it takes it for a ride, come on take on this lifeline, and feel it from below, moving up and moving jag, one more for free when I buy nine won’t you put it in the bag- the people are freezing, the zig is at the zag, all the people are screaming, won’t you let them in the back? Come on won’t you feed them, and tease them with a zap, catastrophe seething, relaxing in the bath, suffering or maybe ******* squeezing, pick me up from the airport we’ll go driving in the Jag, you’re already mostly in the bag, I light up a square and light a second for you man, light one up for the girl whose sitting in the back. Her hands are freezing, her lips are turning black, a lamp standing on a suitcase, Earl Grey and Lavender, she’s got ***** packs and sunglasses, she’s gotten ready for morning class, it’s a gas, a blast, from the past, trash and she’s ******* reeling for a squeeze, she just wants a taste of the past, I laugh, I laugh, I laugh. Put a stamp on her legs, touch them and turn up the volume on the amp. She’s got it, she’s not it, she’s winning playing tag-

Come on won’t you feed them, and tease them with a zap, catastrophe seething, relaxing in the bath, suffering or maybe ******* squeezing, pick me up from the airport we’ll go driving in the Jag, you’re already mostly in the bag, I light up a square and light a second for you man, light one up for the girl whose sitting in the back.

We’ve arrived wearing new things, they think we’re in the band. We order tater tots and martinis, and get our gear so we can get ourselves together in the van. It’s a plan, let’s advance Peter Pan, lift off, touch-down, get a spotlight, and then let’s have a dance. I’ll hop out of the pram, catch a lamb, with just one single hand, greet the grand, then do three somersaults, before we go on tour from 250 Surf Street and perform our second jam, we’re the coolest of the new acts streaming from Japan.

Come on won’t you feed them, and tease them with a zap, catastrophe seething, relaxing in the bath, suffering or maybe ******* squeezing, pick me up from the airport we’ll go driving in the Jag, you’re already mostly in the bag, I light up a square and light a second for you friend, light one up for the girl whose sitting in the back.

In the movies, monsters chase the heroes down. Is there a series of numbers that will release our hunter so she can catch those monsters by the horns. It’s a storm moving forwards, a disaster itching to come back, it’s the sound of a nightmare kicking dirt and bounding down the path. They’re alone but I hear her, the dangers coming fast. This olfactory mainstay, of juggernauts searching for something of a snack, even just a pack of peanuts in their sacks. A sample coming quickly, a set of kissing wizards sniffing cotton candy from a bag. The ache of a Tuesday, where seduction leads our pack. This is merely an act, this is merely an act, it’s just merely an act. Tombs enacted, coffins still they can’t resist, feeding sorceries and eating whims.

But then this is nothing, their stories quickly held in suspense. Their fingers numb with the words, they continue to forget. The strangers are wanting for this alphabet, the laws of the marshal that summer soon upsets.

An alert for the clouds,  across the sky to the stains on their affair, her man ******* pleading, love please put back on your underwear. The girl is screaming, in the governments’ undertow, and the ache of her sexuality can bring her skirt back down. Then there’s this season sweeping, there’s this garden you remember from back home.  the flowers topped upon the stem, thorns dipped in poisons, they keep our heart rate in suspense. Into the river  a surge of disbelief, where the cranberry serums overtake those 15th Century reliefs.

Then there’s the neighbors of evil, they’ve brought up the bags, pairing off with a 40oz and a joint of sticky hash. They carry their guns, and they carry with numbers. The master of art dying on a chariot or gurney. A satyr boost by easy flow, dances for tips at a Go-Go. Drinking up with idle stars, smoking cigarettes at outdoor but covered bars. Drinks for her friends. Drinks to get rid of the bends. Something to carry them through, something to carry after them too. Pleased and pleasing.

This is just the story of easy. This is just the state of disbelief. This is just the nuisance of riding a cable car, and performing with a chisel some religious affiliates relief. Then it’s the garden, 64-bit software coming down. He passes the lighter back to the girl sitting quietly observing, while the minister’s teeth are quickly falling out. So please me please me. Please me appease me and send me out. If the bagel is 99 cents and a drink is a dollar ten, we should have enough to sit on the bench before we start to go. Just *** and please me, just scream and shut the doors up top. I spin in circles riding Brooklyn rooftops, while the neighbors try to stop us from jumping down. I guess somebody died last week from jumping down, I guess somebody died from jumping down. I think he died from being alone. You and I wont die from falling down, we’ll never die from being alone.

Come on won’t you feed them, and tease them with a zap, catastrophe seething, relaxing in the bath, suffering or maybe ******* squeezing, pick me up from the airport we’ll go driving in the Jag, you’re already mostly in the bag, I light up a square and light a second for you man, light one up for the girl whose sitting in the back. She asked me if I was ***, I touched her leg, and put my lips to her mouth. We sat in the car past morning, whispering and never coming down.
Laura Jun 2018
Us
I love the thought of us.

The hand holding.
The romantic morning walks.
The Christmas card pictures.
The hand made birthday gifts.
The 2 am *****.
The 4 am pizza slices.
The funny videos we sent via text.
The giggles and gripes over bad puns.
The Friday night dinners and movies.
The matching concert tees.
The Sunday morning rainy drives.
The cups of coffee shared over a newspaper.
The lethargic post-*** cuddles.
The passionate pre-*** kisses.

I just really ******* hate you.
I love what we had, but I hate you.
Vinnie Adams Apr 2018
I want to be your hair.

Then I can just get tangled

and absorb the fresh air

and never have to care.

Because you will untangle and sometimes pattern and braid me.
listen
then run
she knows
all
her
positions

some
of
them
listen
?





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stinging
blind
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