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ZACK GRAM May 31
6 million jews
Possible
8 billion people
Possible
Both Camps
World War
Sun Moon Stars
Both All
Proven
1 step futher
Keyboard
Same
Same Place

Now
Whos not included
ABC
123
Infinite
ABC
123
Un-Opened

So Open
So Step an Type

Investigate
Consider
Concentrate
Invision
Once Opened
All
Silence

Whos bigger
You stuck
Or
You honest

We are not alone
We are caged

Processed Daily
Tested
Worked
No exit

Where is the exit?
Go outside
Close the door

Spread Love
Share

Transform
No Question
Say
We are not alone

Praise Creation
Praise Placement
Praise Chance
Praise People
Give
Recieve
Free
Unite
Its Time

6 million Jews
8 Billion Humans
Whats next Lets ask..
Proof
TINY
Jeremy Betts Mar 29
Comedy and tragedy never seem to be distributed evenly
Not sure destiny would even recognize me
Nor I it honestly
But could it, would it, should it be able too avoid me deliberately?
Surely if I coulda, I woulda and probably shoulda taken it more seriously
I know this is my millionth apology,
That's not lost on me
I'm so sorry that I happen to be so sorry
If you could find it in your heart too forgive me
It'd be
Just another thing that I envy
Endlessly
For all of eternity

©2024
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
Do not gaze in wonder

Paralyzing completely with one single
Purposeful glance

The depth of your stare affects me more than expected

Sadness in my soul climbs to the surface and escapes my lips with a sad drawn-out sigh
Quiet
Heavy

The nostalgic moments play in head from the carefree days of our youth

With sounds of our four lungs breathing in synchronization the only noise disturbing the comfortable silence dousing the room

The sarcastic smile I have grown fond of lands on your transfixed expression as you state in a simple loving manner
"We do not get along like we used to. I swear there is no one else in the world I would rather have kick my *** than you and your dainty yet damaging fist"

Wanting to one-up heartfelt compliment I reply
"I agree completely, there is no one else on earth who could ever hug me so tight my feet lift off the ground afterwards and have amazing passionate make-up *** with besides you"
Written 4-17-20
M Solav May 2020
You want to be manipulated,
you like it this way,
to be robbed from your agency,
to be imprisoned deliberately.

And in the sandbox play as you will,
With known constraints
And known space to fill.

You want it altered just so enough
As to tell things apart,
But to be told where they belong,
Hinted at what’s right or wrong.

And in the new stuff find exhilaration ,
But newness is old news;
Just give them the passion.
Written in May 2020.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
www.msolav.com

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
__________
Miss Me Jul 2019
The paths taken
   Feel so unforgiving
To hear the words
   You say are true
Stand strong and linger
    With a bitter taste

Can't you tell what's
    Right or wrong
And if the affects
     Lay within my reach
Just yesterday
     You pulled me in to help
          Feel safe
And now your like
   The Cheshire cat
       And his foolish grin
How can you wear two
     Faces at a time
Which one do you feed
     At any given time
Leslie Ledezma Apr 2019
God like beam, your radiance in my eyes
this time is fast going, it’s turned exotic
having fun, I’m the one you want adoring from
right now good as any for a holiday, a fulfilling flash is harsh but alright
save the tender for your talking, waste me like my dreams I hold tight

sullen eyes, I can take you there
past the electric tremolo strings you give my heart, golden
so proud, real dreamy, saying
hope you get what you want, word taking siren

glow of a flame sort of dreamy glow to your face
a sweet and lovely burn, so I let you take over, let you know my mind
going down as stars dull silver like already a memory you
saying never seen such exhausted delighted still eyes, barely afraid but
bravely assured, let me see your soul in the moonlight’s enthrallment
do it your way that means you give me heaven
feeling warm though this breeze is as cold as the loneliness before dawn
where I like to be and always will be, even now

keeping it brave and deliberate

felt you near though I was alone
met all sorts but they can’t shine you out of my mind’s gallery
such music even when I sleep, round my head, waking brings
a strong dose of immersed in the blazing and angel energy, that talk is faith
that walk is true like ice winds
inventive my daring, my deadly find of life, that’s the light you have
and the death you give

show me, show me what you got
I can stay up in distress like a god
for that demand
my deliberate and brave
lethal dose of living sure
for you
MV Blake Apr 2015
I spat feathers from my mouth;
A fall from heaven
Worth the cost of heavenly wings.
Gaia Jan 2015
I want to be deliberate
with my eyes
mouth
feet

I want someone to see a solid
person when they see me
and not the uncertain
wavering figure
that I am.
K Balachandran Jun 2014
Sickened he was by her bad word choices, special need for
incongruous expressions,words spelled the way she likes,
blanks that can never be filled, invented quotes, fabricated realities,
thunderous "****" repeated in intervals, as if  each an inlaid jewel,
and then, having no fixed meaning for that favorite word of hers,
nothing more than an intention to denigrate ******,
                                                                ­                   and women as a whole,
a subconscious compulsion, strangely included, her's also in it's ambit.
He understands her compulsion for such expression thus--
fulfillment of some innate need, an expression of her own worthlessness,
resulted from some grave injury of the mind that happened,
sometime early in her childhood, one could guess.
He took the decision to mark her "UNREAD" for ever
with deep anguish of course,after reading her many fine and sane pieces.
A poetry site distinguished, moderated by editors, a pleasure for participants, as one of those rare sites where authentic discussion on poetic aesthetics is held,  edits done to polish a poem, now finds a fall of standard, which is painful.Core of the problem is few with interests other than poetic..
Their attitude is strange,  and every one pretends emperor's new clothes are fine..
Or is it because some want to be e.e cummings, Bukowski and few others, all at once?

— The End —