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Ma muse est une mère poulpe italienne
Ascendant méduse kabyle
Ses tentacules sont des bras de mer interminables
Pour prétendre être l'objet du désir
De cette dame au coeur en éternelle couvaison
Pour prétendre dérober le coeur
De cette diva enrobée de charmes
Il faut être juste un homme vrai et honnête
Une personne simple et honnête
Un maxim'homme  de collection
Localisé  à vingt kilomètres grand maximum.
Un énergumène  simple et honnête
Spécimen rare du règne mâle,
Un bibelot de chair, d'os et de sang,
Un prototype de papier bien mâché
Qui pratique la randonnée,
La cuisine et partage sa passion
Foetale pour le règne animal.
Bref un phénomène tout simple,
Tendre et goûteux et iodé dans l'idéal
Qu'elle cuisinerait à feux doux avec ses airelles,
Un vrai de vrai,
Un authentique,
Un certifié, cachet de la poste faisant foi,
Un preux sanglier caméléon  de pré salé
Sans peur et sans reproche,
Telle est  la recherche de ma muse
Kabytalienne.
Seanathon Aug 18
As if every coffee cup ever filled was an ocean
So every drink ever drank by humanity was a dream
A beautiful dream with an inevitable end
Like a swirling coffee steeped in seeping cream
Forever mixed are our drinking lives with dreams
One and the same once turned knowingly
For every dreamer who had a cup this morning. You are not alone.
Carl D'Souza Jul 29
In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society
would government
strive to achieve
the joy and happiness
of every citizen?
Would leaders
feel compassion
for the joy and happiness
of every citizen?
Would every citizen
feel compassion
for the joy and happiness
of every other citizen?
Carl D'Souza Jul 27
In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society
would every person in the world
be joyful and happy?
If so,
in an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society
would every person in the world
have to cooperate with everyone else
to facilitate the joy and happiness
of every person in the world?
If so,
would a world-government
be useful
to organise
cooperation
between every person in the world
to facilitate the joy and happiness
of every person in the world?
Carl D'Souza Jul 26
In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society
would we work
at an optimal
joy-and-happiness
pace?
Carl D'Souza Jul 26
In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society,
would we all
have compassion
and empathy
for each other?
Carl D'Souza Jul 26
In an ideal
joy and happiness society
would every person
be wise and virtuous?
And therefore
would every person
be able to trust
every other person?
First I am the architect
Using matter, pure and fine
I make the life that I intend
But in pattern, and design

Second, I am the builder
Taking steps to make it real
Shaping matter to my form
I create my life ideal

Then third, I am the owner
Using all I’ve built, with cheer
This is what I’ve labored for
I’ll enjoy life while I’m here

Then fourth, I am the teacher
Sharing truths that help and bless
Truth One: You are the architect
Of the pattern you express
This is prosperity poem 34 - you can see it on a background here - http://prosperitypoems.com/delivery34TheArchitect.html
Hallie Dawson Apr 25
My dream love feels like a coffee house.

It smells like the fall air and the leaves changing
and it sounds like pretty laughter and morning conversations.
It tastes like lattes and fresh baked pastries
and it looks like warm eyes and beautiful smiles.

She comes in and orders the same thing every morning.
I work behind the counter, and I’m always tired,
but when she walks through the door,
I feel like I’ve had a whole *** of the strongest brew.
She radiates confidence I can only wish to have,
and I wonder sometimes if she fakes it like I try to.

I know her order by heart, but I let her say it anyway
because I love how the words connect together
as if they were composed by Mozart himself.
I try my best to play it cool, to brush off the dizzy spell
that hits when our fingers touch while she takes her change.
To act like my stomach isn’t swarmed with butterflies
when she wraps both hands around the cup
and smiles with her eyes shut, fully content.

I’ve always been fond of genuine people,
the ones who speak softly and honestly,
and who hand out happiness
like they have an unlimited supply.
People who make conversations easy when my anxiety
is screaming at me to avoid any type of socializing.
People who make me think harder and laugh louder.

And I often find myself hoping that the cliché of
true love really does exist because
I could use a light in the dark, a partner in crime
who balances me so completely, it’s as if
we were perfectly made for each other.
And when she waves, the bell above the door ringing,
I always find myself craving a cup of coffee.
Part three of my small collection of poetry called Love: A Poetry Collection
Carmen Jane Apr 20
Oh, how I long for you to whisper through the branches, through the flowers
That you're ready to trust this love that your soul now it devours
How I long you to hold my face, in your warm loving palms,
I know that in one instant, you could gently ease my qualms
How I long, you to coil my silky hair on your fingers,
And lick the taste,of my love for you, that on your wet lips lingers,
I long our cheeks to touch, when I fall in your protective hug,
I don't really care if the world  gives me a shrug,
I know together we can rewrite our own fate
I see the  sun is setting, but it is not too late
Just let yourself be carried by the love's river
That sprang from your heart, when you felt that shiver,
The same one, I felt, when we locked eyes,
It's the kind of love, that never dies
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