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Man Nov 2024
The old man eats his TV dinners,
He's never learned to cook.
He believes it's a woman's job
But he never quite has the nerve to approach one.
Sure, there have been some
But far & in-between.
They don't stay long,
Bar the ones who have been there
Not to love but to take.
But he was smart enough
To cut them off
And not ache for a connection
Even if it wasn't genuine.
He has sense enough
Yet, not exactly a kind which is common.
For he finds it hard
To stand on ground equidistant.
But what is normal?

Is it such a thing as loneliness or love
Which more people take apart of?
In love there is loneliness,
Just as in loneliness there is love.
Whether it is from hearts together
Who can't stand each other,
Or from hearts seperate
Yet readily love one another.
Is it such a thing as loneliness in love
Or love in loneliness
Which more people find themselves in?
Of the equal strength it takes to stay
There is someone stronger in leaving,
Of the equal weakness it takes to wane
There is someone weaker in longing.
Yet, of the unrequited,
These are but fancy words
Which don't always flower to fruition.
And love can be won through persistence,
But to some it is akin to attrition.
The foundation of it loose & unstructured,
Rather than unbound & liberated.

Perchance, by the eye which beholds;
Some think it cowardly -
Some think it bold.
To go on loving, nonreciprocal.
To go on loving, unconditional.
Happy Thanksgiving, I guess.
Poetic T Aug 2020
For the seeds were woven yet nothing grew,
                                  that which watched above


sewing the earth with salty tears,
                  for he had asked for the
first woman to seed..


                             And the father
said No.......

You shall not seed fields that aren't  yours.

She is no Mary,
     you will not be an illegitimate
father to my child woven in the
             cloth of forsaken love.


They were a unity of forever.
   Your just a passing thought
to the illegitimate
consequences of fate.

And look where that got you....

There are no fields to sew,
   for your fruit is inedible

            to the palette of humanity....


The nature of you fruit is woeful,
         and your nourishment is


toxic to the substance of our fruition.
elisabeth Jul 2019
Foolish
Really how did I not know
Every feeling I have towards you is a reflection of something within myself

Of course I don't trust you
I have nothing but doubt for myself
My own thoughts contradict one another
I'm afraid to be proud

I can't remember the last time I felt unabashedly proud
I can remember silently rejoicing straight faced after scoring a goal in a soccer game
Brushing off my teammates cheers and shouts

I can remember trying to let my friends know
I'm just a good test taker
That good grades don't equate to intelligence
Subtly depreciating my own source of pride

Too afraid to have ownership
Of any talent or skill
I'd rather halt progress than be granted attention
I'd rather lose all my skills than have superiors with high expectations

So you shouldn't expect me, really
To be capable of loving you
I'll give too much or too little
But I'll never quite be sure you really love me
Floating like Dandelion florets caught upon the breeze
Thoughts scatter to the four corners of the world
Lucid dreams dragging ecstatically at the seam of self
Unpicked nightmares rearing up and roaring
A lions roar, a cats purr fangs floating in a pool of perfume
Cannot obscure the golden tower of blow *****
Seed dispersal through rosettes
Disturbed paw printed earth receives seeds.
© JLB
05/11/2017
01:36 GMT
Àŧùl Dec 2016
I invested in love.
Then I kindled it,
With faithfulness.

I sowed the seed,
Then I watered it,
With so much care.

I am so well-versed with life,
Then I know a thing about it,
With patience, it only ripens.

I want it to grow,
Then I must care,
With high patience.

I planted the tree,
Then I must wait,
With selflessness.
HP Poem #1326
©Atul Kaushal
Aubrey Aug 2014
These cicadas,
their transformation is mine...
leaving behind
the exo-existence.
The inside is out.
The vibrant vibration...
the truth is in my mouth
and on my face...
The beginning
is fruition.
The world is Alive
                                       and so am I.
I feel everything.
I am everything.

— The End —