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Apollo 23h
“I love 
the taste
Of someone else’s wine
On your lips and your cheeks. 
You crave the tang of iron
And ichor
On mine.”
Emilyn Oct 13
im soft right now

and part of me wonders

will you love me when im no longer soft

when my muscles shift and my hips get bony

will you tell me to put on a few pounds

put some meat on my bones

when im no longer a soprano or even an alto

will you tell me my voice is too loud and booming

that i should speak softly

when hair blankets my body like moss on a stone

will you tell me my kisses hurt you

that if i dont shave every day its too itchy to bear

will my body be the end of us

i hope not

because under enough blankets my hips wont poke you

and after enough lullabies everything feels quiet

and with enough beard oil anything is soft enough to kiss
My body has been denounced to sin

                       My mind corrupted with anarchy

      My soul is devoid of peace

            Restlessness has become familiar to me

    I am disconnected from my own reality

                      Time is moving but I am standing still

    I am stagnating forward and sprinting backwards

            I am trying to find the light but my eyes are sown shut

   I have lost all energy to fight so the world is beating me up

            My paradoxical really is swallowing me whole and
        spitting out my bones and I can't help but ask myself
     if this is all worth it?
Jude Rogers Sep 17
net-zero!c by!c 2050
no GARBAGE need iq
love right so you understand
wire a peculiar poem
YOU like this if good thats right
i understand you are heartbreaker
if i dont like this write that poem
you were luck thats you believe this
were you your friends
thats you it stink
if i would i would say
dont you sooo this
furthermore to you it very high
is this your lads
aint that
are am to no
like a dadaist poem but i sorta chose what order to arrange the words in
Jude Rogers Sep 12
i look close
and i look closer
until what i see is
tiny beads of light
red   green   blue
lots of them
i will try to forget about my 2nd poem and how weird its lol
Jude Rogers Sep 12
Been a.
While. But
to be here
I am sorry if my use of.
Incorrectly placed                         periods
spacing is weirding you.
Out. I                                 apologize.
As long as I am doing this strange form of
I think i'll be
11!for a day speak like gman from half life O_O (flushed emoji) ecks dee !!!
Ryan Clark Dec 2012
I lay still as if I were a breathing corps.
My heartbeat reminds me I still live.
My mind wanders aimlessly;
It drifts in and out of the borders of valid conception,
and withers to its content.

Am I alive,
or waking from a prolonged dream?
These thoughts contradict my understanding of this world.
They break the grips of my reality,
and plunge me into the unknown.

Although the notion tinges a world of fear.
My perspective shifts;
My consciousnesses fades away
and is vibrantly replaced
by a wave of blissful euphoria.

This is a strange existence.
Time is irregular;
It means nothing here.
Days seem like seconds;
minutes seem like weeks.

O' to what a mishap,
a folly happenstance,
a fringe to conventionality.
To who or what pleasure
do I owe?

Part of me wishes to leave this place.
Albeit a part wishes to remain.
I am in love with this realm,
yet I know there is somewhere else
that I must be.

So now I set sail
to find the world that I came from;
with a pleasant gift from the one I left.
                   I look upon an old existence,
                                             with new eyes.
This is my first attempt at a free form poem, so I would be interested in thoughts and/or some pointers. It's basically just random thoughts and how they shift my perspective on reality.
then apart,
faithfully two,
desperately prying,
for anything I felt so
maybe, in recollecting,
needy and wanting then
watch it all fall apart again
complex, long, feels the worst
yet there's still more to go
i try my best to stay alive
knowing what's to come
forgetting what I found
losing that feeling of
righteous doubting
in myself, not you
that silent regret
always with me
nightmare, no
just a dream
forget it,
it's only
just wanted to make a nice gradient
Ken Pepiton Aug 20
in a rather more living language
form frames function, I think we,
should we agree,
may make waves or points proving
science is good.

Clipped from:

If you try to describe the living processes of the cell
in a rather more
living language
than is typically found
in the literature of molecular biology —
if you resort to a language
reflecting the artfulness and grace,
the well-coordinated rhythms,
and the striking choreography
of phenomena such as
gene expression,
signaling cascades, and
mitotic cell division —
you will almost
hear mutterings
about your flirtation with
“spooky, mysterious, nonphysical forces.”
You can expect to hear yourself labeled a “mystic” or —
there is hardly any viler epithet within biology today — a “vitalist.”
We have tools wordsmiths never imagined in times of points and picas.
t Aug 11
a rose by the hour
floral shower
florid stain

the waxy lip
blooms for the sweet
and fragant touch

that young lily

iced and white
with blushed insides
and forbidden

there is a timeless tale
within those pearls
within that smile

of youth



there is a quintessential
beneath that lust
(that noisome desire)

heart beating and breaking
and pulsating and


the light from the room
and the gold from the sun
and the bud
from her mother.

dulcet petal
and grotesque -
posioned by posion
and romantic unrest

a rose by the hour

floral shower


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