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A home is a home is a home
it's a place, it's a haven, it's a heart
my head, a heavy tome
but here, my pages, they easily part

A feeling is a feeling is a feeling
of belonging, of caring, of staying
here, my mind felt ease, I'm simply being
my body speaks tired, here, I'm not afraid of swaying

A lover is a lover is a lover
for I'm well fed, for I'm blanket-covered, for I'm hot-showered,
I'm being shared, my lover and my bed, and I'm undercover,
I do as I please, I'm undaunted or a coward

A house is a house is a house
sometimes old and weary, cold and eerie, sole and leery
it breathes in and out, familiar rhythm, one with my mouth
My home gives me the feeling that there's a lover in the house, here I saw ice being fiery
Strange to be back home but alone.
My Haven is a field of yellow

Each single flower

Each little petal



You sway and dance along the breeze

A summer hue beneath the trees



Your fragrance brings nostalgic scenes

Which transform quickly to day dreams



I'd pluck you as a child and grin

Then promptly place beneath my chin



Excited, to my friend I'd splutter

"Does it say that I like butter?"



The joy you gave me as a child

I'd walk through fields of you for miles



Today I lounge upon my back

surrounded by your yellow mass



Whilst mother earth sings summer chants

And blades of grass between you dance



I breath you in and feel the love

Exhaled by natures buttercup
i have built a room made of songs and unspoken words
struck by the moonlight, my secrets lay beneath the ocean waves - asleep and unafraid

the walls are painted with the lightest shade of blue,
for it reminds me how right and genuine love felt like.
the night sky is my ceiling and every star gleams for my welfare

with complete surrender, tears fell from my eyes one last time,
the word 'home' escaped from my mouth
and my heart finally took its rest
Samantha Babe Feb 20
I was just a lone star from the dense gas clouds collapsed. Enough to ignite & produce light. It was my birthplace. But i saw your light and we assemble. Then we became the galaxies. Now, I'm placed. I'm home.
I hear of the walls
others have built
to keep you out
but you knocked mine d o w n

I'll let you in
and we can build
our own Safe Haven
I push people away a lot. I don't let them in.
Someone special though, has knocked all those walls down
And I couldn't be happier that he did
Lure Pot Nov 2017
You are a message to me
Message from heaven
Message of my love
You are my first love,
You are a message to me
Message of my first love
Message from heaven.

I haven't ever seen you
and haven't even heard
sound of you love me
You are a message to me
Message of my first love
Message from heaven.

I haven't ever been in love
I've never loved someone
Yes, you are the first one
You are a message to me
Message of my first love
Message from heaven.

I have never thought of you
never thought you'd be mine
but truly you're my love, mine
You are a message to me
Message of my first love
Message from heaven.
Exposure Therapy

     A figurative light shines on me (courtesy of Pink Floyd), no matter I live on the dark side of the moon like another brick in the wall, and rarely present thyself stark naked sans emotionally. The metier viz modus operandi of writing (poetry seems to edge ahead of other structures) allows, enables and provides with utmost exhiliration, infatuation, lumination, et cetera an opportunity to test (dis)comfort zones. Hence carefree foray induces loosing oppressive repressed unvented xanax albatross drugged gewgaws, jetisonned (via Jetson propelled Segway) means producint resplendent unfettered x2c.

      I became habituated, insulated, jackknifed with non-healthy, destructive behavior cultivated detrimental habits disallowing natural maturation of body, mind, and spirit, which this middle aged mwm now more fervently revisits, remonstrates, and recapitulates when attempting to explain to thyself or another, how bing figuratively tethered to the apron strings o' me late mum promulgated, narrated, and licensed to avast quantity of active listeners, the self made parent trap (albeit synonymous with an invisible umbilical cord that well nigh strangled satisfactory quality of life.

     Thus culled from me lately (countless decades when within fledgling offspring, the progeny evince metamorphosis that display heavenly lottery phenomenal tinder phase linkedin DNA when processes of puberty per purring prestidigitation when mine deus darling daughters developed into divine dames) instilled, jolted, kickstarted personal quest to broach me interpersonal/ social comfort zones.

     The presence of generalized anxiety (with attendant debilitating panic attacks) damned, foiled, highjacked journey to experience ordinary sensate human bonding never took place.

     I copiously deprived, emotionally fleeced, gamely hocked innumerable joyous kissably leavening male natural ordinary processes qua ramping sundry transitions ushering vital wings yodeling zen attainment. emotional, physical, social discoveries visa vis via blockaded, deprived, forfeited, hamstrung inoculated je nais sais quois electric kool aid acid test disallowing, barring,

depressing, forsaking growing Homo Sapiens trajectory toward autonomy free self destructive hermetically sealed reign.

     Otherwise, thru avoidance behavior, clamped down eponymous flapping gums, this now middle aged baby boomer believes he cheated himself, injuriously jarred kidnapped legendary manifold noble savage traits ushering vital willpower yawping zealous adulthood.

Said physiological, integral, hormonal, germinal, fantastical, external, developmental, capitalone entourage fumbled mine kempf outlook predicated unanimously withheld Mortal Kombat from finagled grim-faced hoodlums, whence thine smarting, roiling, quivering psyche broke LivingSocial will power to remain alive, thus surrendering StarWars shield, essentially via nixed invisible IdentityGuard, undermined re: self defeatedly favorable growth, when thy prepubescent self firmly believed he hermetically sealed, guarded, buffered, himself against nasty, meanly lampooning, cruelly brutal bullies when in truth he merely annihilated, boobytrapped, bolloxed against learning to deal with dangerous enfilades fired, and essentially a uselessly futile coping mechanism.

     Quest diagnostic codified by yours truly incorporates initiating, kibitzing, and making odious quirkiness stamping utterly worthless yikyaks axed. Courageousness employed grappling ingeniously

kickstarting my nifty operation quintessentially rallying strength to utter verbal warbling, especially when espying a guy or gal donned with dreadlocks.

     Inexplicable to myself why a plethora of persons (constituting various generations) attire themselves with the lengthy process to braid, maintain, and wear follicles in such a fashion most attribute to Rastafarians.

     No matter what the reason or rhyme (whether with or without sense and sensibility, yet inculcated with pride without prejudice), a fascination with curiosity asper men, women, and/or children sporting a headful sprouting knotted ropy plaits sets the impetus sans this non establishmentarian chap to inquire what influenced him/her to impress the trademark dreadlocks. Each person usually offers little objection asper what influenced such a predilection.

     Upon conniving, daring, egging, et cetera this quintessentially respectable son, the unsuspecting gal or guy ruminating about some purchase, I nonchalantly assay, foray, sashay...and issue a positive comment about their snake like confection of locked tresses.

     Most interaction with persons previously unbeknownst to me launch into a harried styled and swiftly tailored explanation.

     Poetic and/or prosaic concoctions, confections, coiled connotations configuring confusing confabulations representative of mine unsettled psychological state, which (aking to purging) oft times erupts without any sense nor sensibility, neither pridefulness, though prejudice against victorious vanquished wicked yoked zealousness toward unhealthy behavious linkedin with a nada so good and plenti outlook.
alternate title – A bona er fide dog day afternoon delight.

A mere half dozen vowels
constitute the English language
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay
Consonants comprise the majority
(sans remaining twenty) Ta Deum,
whereby both in tandem allow, enable
and provide avast combination donning brooks at bay
ample lettered permutations

offer opportunities, where methinks
mother tongue avails allows, enables
and provides thyself
tubby spell as sigh arrange passions linkedin to create, evoke
and generate plenti of romantic expressions to convey
an amorous, bedazzling conception

describing erotic, graphic, and iconic sexual propensities
this cobbler, dabbler, and fiddler
(no, not on the roof) doth display
his penchant, lament and bent infatuation
with these twenty-six symbols
that cunt hen ewe to evolve,
and breed vernacular words to reflect from an eBay
definitions apropos to the present, which
Uber state farm quixotic oeuvre,

and matchless kindling intercourse serves as foreplay
for this heterosexual ma reed male caressing,
finessing, and integrating
expressions of speech oft times spurs
(what might seem as noun sense),
I ponder the peccadilloes of being gay
yet quickly reroute sexual predilections
albeit rolling in the hay,

whence this dis straw t fellow
conjures affinity, comity and excitability
latent within the consanguinity
of bossy verbs assaying boisterously
an interjection tubby top dog capstone amidst kennel
of barking canines couching with another similar subject
each with their body electric

nestled upon a davenport faux pas inlay
in conjunction with another
four legged friend, the direct object
particularly eyed iz a bitch in heat, who whiz okay
to buffer end an un pro noun
sub bull underdog species, who feels passé
with coital faw paw play

though averse to insult shaggy scoobie doo,
whose bark a role overture willingly
doth goad her to doggy paddle
while she woofs down remnants of  
picnic tourists left littered
while Lady and the tramp head toward the quay
Pier ring for private sloop to hump per dink,
then ejaculate hoo ray
afore slyly cagily approaching bag of tricks
see sexual exploits today.
Laurel Leaves Oct 2017
It's spelled the Irish way
The old Gaelic notes that ring when you say it after a few beers
Sluggishly lulling through the world while you find the rhythm of living vicariously
You stated once so boldly
I was the only reason you should save
You called the way I live
Brave  
Licking the copper clean as it whistles
craving a soul
Like I stand
another goal
But the sun slips in these autumn months
Ive visted the same places
Each kicked back bitter
different from the latter
you maniacally send me
Chapter after chapter

I wish I could just roll the windows down
Run through each noun
as it hits my ear
Turn in the moments I lived in fear
Cash them in for a year
Like the way you effortlessly describe me
Forgetting the constant flux of my
Internal neuroses
The sun is setting and I feel fucking weird.
Martin Meek Sep 2017
Take me.
If only for a moment.
To heaven.
Where angels fly.
Where God is.
On his thrown.
And life is better.
Jesus sets beside.
Like a faithful son.
Do his father's will.
So I say.
Take me.
To heaven.
The end
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