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Lolita Feb 21
Us together was exemplary devastation and even in pieces, I yearned for more...  
Us together now is pure conservation even perpetual I want more...  
Can I compare you to my lovely day? But you are the art more lovely and more adumbrate...  
Your cherry blossom hue never gonna wash away by heavy showers of rain I'm not even gonna let ragged wind shake my darlings, Dovey...  
You can savour me... But only with your eyes...  And I will vow with mine.. then there will be no surprise...  
May our path be cohered forever and get entwined... We can epoch our kiss in a barrel then we not gonna need chardonnay wine...  
What signifies how intimate we shall be??
Not what you are but what you're to me...  
But you are so far away... And we are planning to make our stay...  we are staying under the blanket of starry nights...  
And it's a sight to behold because we gonna see two moons collide...  
As long as the sun shines we traverse and expands...  
May we reach the end of it all and may this never ends...
Bees may **** us one day...
Lolita Feb 21
The quest is weary
And we are still deary...
The wine barrels are empty now....
Let stay here... With a sheer...
We still have to a vow...
Take my hand... Let me hold you...
Make me fanned... You are a beauty to behold...
Dance with me... March with me...
I'm gonna tell you the story untold...
YReem619 Jan 15
The flickering candle and I,
Both alive without a good night's sleep,
Overwhelmed by the rapidity of my thoughts,
I am unable to stay peacefully still.

This time I had genuinely thought I loved,
Stains of something untamed marked my mind with thoughts of you,
Stuck me between your smile and your scent,
I don't know what happened.

I can't tell you when exactly it happened,
Something between loved and upset,
I was struck by your words,
Somewhere between awareness and carelessness.

Somewhere where trees are undressed,
Under the suns half exposure,
Cloudy grey other half,
Shadowing other trees.

One earth, two worlds playing,
And we flew through both,
Half shadowed and half exposed,
We just played.
Nigdaw Oct 2021
I miss the satisfaction
of that little lever
advancing cellulose
frame by frame
for an unseen exposure
until developer hits film
producing an image
clicked at 1/60th of a second
in time
Sirius Dec 2020
I'm sitting at the bottom of the pool.
       The chlorine stings;
the mesh of blue tastes like skin.
Like the privates of some bodies
daring to seep into the flakes.

            It's so peaceful here.
The allegro of my heart- thump. thump. thump.
blocks out the voices
       rippling above.  
Children cackling,
a mother moaning,
    a lifeguard crying.    
     I open my mouth
                                    to let the roofied indigo flush my body
like codeine on my droughted tongue,                          
so we have no secrets.
So I am not the only one to see the ugly.            
                                    Water slides off my *******, thighs,
and all the parts of me the mirror doesn't see,
until everything around me is water
             taking away the hotness from my cheeks;
I almost travel time -
palming my wrinkled fingers and toes -
which crumble like chrysanthemums.

The view wavers
and I quint to the dissociating shiny, yellow arms,
giggling when they tickle my voided pits.

I feel like sleeping,
but I think I need a breath?
A little sputter - a small gasp.

Better come up before I drown.
I'm sad
M Vogel Dec 2020
D Vanlandingham

I could not help it,
but to show you how the moment felt,
and in the unfolding of a picture, painted;
the deepest of your dreams were unknowingly shown to you
And it caught you off guard-  having, to that day..

   you never imagined,  it possible.

But you did not yet understand that you wear your dream
somewhere within the thin-walled interminglings
of the word's first primal, urgings..  and its out-into-the-light-of-day,
manifestations... (and baby, I feel like crying right now)
but I will continue
I will continue--

You never signed up for this,  I know..
but you are the one who  chose
to allow your war-torn heart,
to keep on beating//
your flame-scorched lungs,  to keep on breathing..
and now look at this mess, my beautiful--
your beautiful-everything has bled out on to me

and  everywhere that I am..  I am wearing you

And all I do  is tell you what it feels like  to wear you
but in doing so, I made known  your dream
and somehow-- within the stretch of Love's ache's, bad luck
I have become hated  for making your secret, come true--

         the revealing of the dream,  made known ::

                                                the Unfolded you.

And now, you are raging
because you never imagined, the possibility
that there would be someone  out there
that would care  enough about you
to become able  to see..

(and a man became hated, for just being  me).

Yet, even now  to this day,  beloved;
I close my eyes, and smile
within the depths,

  of your deeply loving, hatred.

The smell of rain and streetlight, thrown
a love, a lantern in the snow
when she feels it taking hold
she finds it so hard letting go
How can I tell her that we'll shine?
She dreads the devil's yet to show;
so **** reluctant to expose it to me,  so..


(it has been years of this, my beautiful)

I love you.
Jamesb Aug 2020
Sometimes words are weapons
Add an s or a certain order and
They will cut to the bone,
Eviscerate a  bowel,
Destroy a dream,
End a life,
Break a lovelorn heart

Other times sans s fronted
They caress a weary cheek,
Lift up a tired soul
And reassure a faltered
Dream that its time
Too will come to
Faultless fruition

We speak thousands of words
Every day of our lives
Without thought,
And spoken they come
With added edges and jagged spurs
Of intonation, tone,

Or with balm for healing,
Warmth for the cold
Respite for the bewildered
Mind and soul
Lifting up repairing all
And making good
On harm

But beware the poem
Most of all! for it
Is a fearsome trap
For the unready author
Who writhes upon the created flow
Struck from their own verse
Read well by another,

For poems tell our truth
Warts and all,
And like singing lay us bare
To critic judge and common herd,
Who hear, absorb
And find us whole and
Nowhere left to hide,

We are forced to face
Reaction to our souls and hearts
Captured upon a pen's point,
Pinned to a board or a page
And read aloud
Where all can see

And what do you hear?
What do you see?
My God you see
The real and naked,,
The one and only,
Reflecting a shared moment (which lasted an age) with  another poet here when I sent more than I realised and they heard their own read with passion and truth.

Not so much bruising as a unique exposure to someone who knows me  and I them, rather better than we either may have intended. I wonder if this resonates with anyone else here?
Anais Vionet Jul 2020
I've got a reading!
And the venue's all sold out.
It's an old phone booth
that some company threw out.

Standing room only
you can get in by arrangement
I'll just hop out
for the term of your engagement.

If you show up
you won't even need a mask
'cause you'll be standing
on the far side of the glass.

My voice sounds muffled
in the sound-proof enclosure
so my poetry won't really
be getting much exposure.

For my fan base
it's the ideal place to show.
See, I can do the reading
and no one else will know.
A humorous look at poetry exposure
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