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Nat Lipstadt Jul 2020
don’t be jealous  (for a poet, for all poets)

~with gratitude, this one for Verlie Burroughs, verily, whosoever she may be~

the poem titles arrive in banana bunches,
grape clusters asking to be mouthed, tasted,
break their skin, juices dribbling on taste buds,
sometimes the title +  poem fully formed,
arrive on the same plane, that’s a first class
ticket to a poetry symposium somewhere near
the se(a)e.

like a fresh pack of cellophane encased cigarettes,
poems just begging ‘smoke me, **** me, broke me yoke,
the one that enchains, my soul-me,”

the nurse
pronounces a new born weighing 7lbs., 6 ounces,
pouncing, bouncing; first cries a-writing, the title
in the fluid, on the floor, don’t slip, the heavy poundage
and the body a first poem, a flighty aerie of a few ounces
that floats groundward like flavored colored leaves
in the fall, a bird’s feathers summer molting, swapping
old notions for new poem~potions, tips and sips of
Whitman, after Billy. Collins, **** the spillage and...

don’t be jealous, it’s a curse, when they silent labor
breach birth, even pre-named, falling from brain to
mouth, mouth to fingertips, Ipad to ethernet cable,
through brick walls they fly,
cause you can’t hold them and,
type them down fast enough...
Ken Pepiton Apr 2020
What, where is the poetry

it is 4:20, on 4-20-2020,

my wife walks in right after I enter an early evening
re-read to make it seem

poetically planned to hatmonize perfectly

she says, if we can get to El Cajon by 4:20,

I think perfect,
she wants me to do the impossible, again

but then I remember spring ahead that we voted
to stop doing but they did,

I must not have, sprung ahead, for a poetic moment up there,

if we can get to El Cajon by 4:20,

they can **** our dog. Oh...

and a whole long story began, which is why

after all is said and done, 4-20-2020 is a global holiday.
Begin with the end in mind if life is full of riddles must be full of life.
Jonathan Moya Feb 2020
We tell our children not to wander in the woods,
never to stop or enter the cottage with
the peppermint scent and gingerbread façade
for a naked witch is sleeping inside.

Beware the milk weeping from an axe handle outside,
the tingling inside that stretches from heart to toes
that neither sinks nor swims if tied with heavy stones,
the ointment on your back that makes you feel flight.

If you are sickened by the scent of roasting meat
kissing your nostrils, we tell them, do not enter there.
If she gazes at you and you see her reflection in the frosted panes,
hear her voice sweetly echo in the glittering fireflies of night, turn away.

Better to crush her bones to paste and use them to mason your new house
less you close your eyes and she be on top in your dream bed,
her pointed ******* caressing down, her black familiar nearby,
we tell them, never noticing the rancid butter on the neighbor’s sill.

If she smiles and you dream the image of a child inside her,
especially after barren decades of hope, many more watching her
tying knots at the end of your bed, muttering an unknown language,
do not ever let her in, we repeatedly tell them.

If she smiles and you see a frown, cast her out, we tell them.
If she marries you in heart and soul and never gets engaged,
If she weeps at the sight of every child in ambulation,
If she takes on the face of Norma Desmond, she is an evil thing.

If she lives in air, fire, ice and water, sees planets in the day;
Insists on walking when old and frail and fragile with age;
looks intently at every small thing, do not let her hair
touch your cross lest she curse you with an unhappy life.

Check your children’s hair lest there be witch powder there.
Beware their nightmares lest they be witch’s dreams.
They may be be-spelled if they struggle with things
greater than themselves, especially those you believe.

if they have contrary opinions, want to tour strange cities,
plea for mercy for the poor soul exiled on death row,
give a drink to a thirsty man, cry for the forever war,
they are surely bewitched and need to feel the switch.

Watch your children lest they slip the things they want
but can not afford into their gloves and pockets
for they are part of her infernal coven and it is time
to collect them together, find the matches and burn the wood.
Elsie Plum Jan 2020
He’s obsessed with his need for my comfort
and there is nothing I can do to keep him from the vile hatred that comes with falling out of love with me. He’s obsessed and I knew this would happen. He needs a mother and I can’t continue to carry the burden a mother has for her broken child. Am I responsible for the ways he’ll wreck himself when I go on with my life. will he seek help the way he promised every night we lay alone kissing tears off of eachother and making it hot in the sheets. Will he blame my every choice or will he just blame himself. Will he still think of me and drown it in pills every night that he hopes the bitter taste of it will wash mine away from his tongue. He forced himself to need me most when I told him I was going away. He’s doing this to himself so that I just go along with it. I’m never going back and this is where I make that bond. I’m sorry Sam I’ve seen my future in the distance and it’s calling me over to move forward with my life and I’ve been told in my dreams that I need to let go.
the melody is in my head and I can’t read this poem any other way 10:35 am
hannah Dec 2019
I want to be in your arms
You are warmth and safety
To bury my face in your neck
Breathe in your scent
Is heaven for me
It's a blissful kind of misery
But I'm safe with you
I know what to expect

I need to be with you
Press my lips against your cheek
Your nose, your eyelids
Curl up inside you
Let your arms engulf me
I want to fall asleep on your chest
Drift through dreams of you and me
Live alone in your oasis
rgz Sep 2019
Cover my face
to converse with the heavens
a fall from such grace
should deserve some attention
some way to replace
broken light I was given
as the words taking shape
paint dishonourable mention
hard taught ways
the fall is the lesson
just another case of
divine intervention
a pool of disgrace
it's my purest reflection
a shower of silence
is all I was left with

Cover my face
this rain's getting heavy
as the rising tide
slowly breaches the levee
I'm caught in a place
where the ground is unsteady
so out of place
a landfill teddy
I lost all my faith
round nineteen or twenty
well, what I had left
it was far from plenty
god never showed face
sent angels to end me
if he wants me erased
he could have just sent me

Cover my face
the angels have left me
gone are the days
of feeling bereft
see, all that remains
are shadows that tempt me
one of these days
the dark will come get me
why should I stay
for one who rejects me
fills me half way
just to leave me half empty
questions the stray
he'd know if he met me
he led me this way
down paths tread with fell feet

Cover my face
rip it up gently
every night when I prayed
he would listen intently
as I counted the ways
the good lord detests me
it was on those days
he saw fit to bless me
the one and only
who didn't forget me
showed many faces
but not one upset me
showed me the steps
gave me identity
dance the devil's way
cause we're the same entity

Uncover my face
to write on the wall
brush off the last trace
of dust from the fall
when push comes to shove
he's inside us all
and that one up above
just won't do at all
he handed me this pen
at the edge of a blade
gave me first cause
to put words on the page
the tempest calls
to lift me away
a siren's song
I'm going all the way
wait for it
sunshine Aug 2019
that song still is playing, as your hands hold me

and i know i'll never be able to dance to it

cause when i was in that moment

i finally saw what it was like to fall in love with the devil
i ******* loved you
but maybe
i ******* can't have you

. . . Save Him . . . Says the girl I used to be
. . . Save him . . . Whispers the brokenness inside of me

. . . Save Him . . . Echos on every breath I exhale

. . . Save Him . . . Scream the birds flying over my head
. . . Save Him . . . Weave the spiders into their webs

"He's not mine to save" I repeat with each step I take
"He doesn't belong to me" I declare to the sun every day break
"Save me from this temptation" I pray each night
"I can't love him" I cry when it's too much to fight

. . . Save him . . .  Commands the universe as it pushes me toward the edge

I just hope I can catch myself as I fall off the ledge
Masha Yurkevich Feb 2019
I still
don't get it.
It hasn't fixed yet in
my head.
He's not coming back
this time.
He's really
I still can't process it inside.
Kelsey Feb 2019
He's so cute the way he smiles.
He's so cute the way he laughs.
He's so huggable when he's happy
And even when he's sad.
He's so in love with me.
I agree he's the only boy for me.

He's so cute when he sings,
the songs he sings for me.
He's so cute the way he talks,
like he's lighting up my soul.
I'm so in love with him.
He agrees I'm the only boy he needs.

© Copyright Tyler Atherton
I'm in love. And for once in my life he loves me back <3
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