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eleanor prince Sep 2018
it's weird the things that
pester your mind
just when you thought you had
it all sewn up...

you tell yourself you are this
generous and big-hearted person
well maybe
on some days

and then you remember the kid
in fifth grade that rushed up
asked for a five pence loan
was all I had left

but I did it, didn't I
believed her
that she'd pay it back
in the morrow for sure

but she wasn't at school
the next or the next
and I'm still inanely
mad at her

and at myself
as she knew
she was moving
the very next day

and man was I
but you know I
couldn't give tuppence

about the coin -no
'twas the principle
of the matter
wasn't it

she knew she
would never
pay it back
so why lie

I would have given her
way more
had I known it was
her last day
Just an off the cuff poem. Inspiration came from reading a poem just now by Natalie:
where I left this comment:  You are indeed worthy of being called a muse of sorts for my head is rattling around with all kinds of possibilities - but the little ping pong ***** haven't formulated into much in the way of sentences yet - but it is coming - yes, I think something is emerging. Bit longer than I expected so will post it as a poem and give you the credit for the inspiration - lol
c Mar 2018
i hold the ring
worth its weight in water
a trinket of our love
pooled in my palms

i wonder
does the surface glimmer
the same for you
as it does for me?

would you savor
every last drop
and fall to the heat
pleading for more?

till death; for life
holistic & ripened

i am waiting
for this silly trinket to

--but instead
watch as its glimmer
into air

Sometimes I feel naive to the workings of love--whether I deserve to, or am able to, feel it/understand it, given my age. Recently I've thought about the possibility of marrying my partner later in life. However, I don't receive similar signals from them. This poem is alluding to the hypothetical result of proposal.
Emm Jan 2018
Bright and lovely
and exciting!
Then time passes
and the colours seemingly lose their excitements
all done and licked
tried and tempted
What's new?
Then some are darker than others,
all shadowing and dull
Then you'd wonder are they the true colours
But, they're not
Shine and polish
your mind
the colours are the same
Just pick up your stained glass from your pocket
and you'll see the colours you choose
Bright, colourful, ... and excited!
As they once were to you
As they have always been...
K Balachandran Aug 2017
Rapidly the girl speaks  in convoluted riddles,

Seems like  bent to push him in to a puddle,

Intrigued he sets out tightly tying his girdle,

Being the type who always wants to be in the saddle.

Wanted to unravel the true intent, concealed,

He did go about it in right earnest, the next moment.

Watching her blue eyes for any sign of betrayal.

One serious doubt, persisted all the while.

Which one of them is naive here, him or her?

He could sense she poking fun of him, now and then.

In some way, does it to him send, a clue, clear?

Now, he gets it, in a flash, who is at fault here.

The moon shine, abruptly wanes , can't last for ever.

Coming from under the shadows, the sun shines brighter.

"Ay, there is the rub" he heard him tell himself!

When they, the duo swooned were already busy canoodling!
William Lee Jun 2017
Look down,
                the liquid is still.

Distance is greater here                                        
                    ­                                    at the top.

Lover’s Leap

on the eve                          

                       of Halloween.

Soil and water,                
                  divided by air

(I’m the fire)                          

Frozen fingers find my face.                    

                           Reject his touch again.

His ribs – a shell.                                        

bars on his chest,                        

               slammed up against the cage.

Plugged my nose;
                            Smell the chemical - instability,
                   sweating ethyl and opioids          

A gasp of air,

                             smashing tongues
                Plaque enough to scrape
and weigh it by the gram.
another night –
   He never brushes.                                          

For radiation’s sake:
burning lids

                              (closing eyes)
time ticks and sheds.
(after an hour of          
                      sodium soaked
hair from my lips    
to give me the salted
metallic milk receipt)

Iris raging against Helios

(The ache
not given by his)

reveals breaking branches
                                      visible only through locked eyelids.

neon red          proof-
Light will continue even if I refuse to see it.

                  My skin – sensitive, exposed;


(His – flushed,
rotting strawberry.)

each piece of flesh
to the cool of the wind           

 and of his eyes.

He will not look away.

His flaws –                  
mine to love,
               my flaws
– he will

(do what he must)

My skin/My pores

are sandpaper until
frozen soon,

                                    The water connects. Then

(and stiff)
the pores are awake;

(clammy hand presses my head)
sandpaper, now sponge.

                  (into the pillow
I never needed to bite.)

(Libido gives way to stamina)

He is to jump in
                  – join me.

But instead, he hesitated.                               


I saw the fear                                 

        (He didn’t give his receipt)

leave his tense, extra-long,

self-mutilated legs.

He looked-

(bashful glance was given) by eyes

(vividly dreamed of
                            when puberty was still                           (growing into me)).

I gave him courage.
                        His reluctance became


those scarred stilts of his ran                                                and           ­                             
                                   ­                         leapt!

(He always was the air.)

Solar radiation affected eye control
but still,               he fought to catch me then.

Stubborn, (determined) blind,                                       he fights.

Can time stop here?

As his flawed flesh hangs,

   When eyes catch;

                               I want to remain forever.

I want that escape.                             (Will we be sober?)                    
His face is left-lazy.

The right side does all the work.         Cheek skin stretches              right

I make him smile.                                  Eyebrows in motion; raised.

Lip curls up, only for one side

The baritone of his voice


                          I am his laughter
                                                  – a squawk

His nearly-not-a-beer-belly          frozen            


in the air,

***** hair, trimmed,
but not shaven.

Shadow of his (non-secular) altered
*****.                                       (Nothing to hide.)

The sloppy physical tool      (My favorite one)
He was just a boy,                                   (perfect)
but he was mine, then.                     (singularly)

Our exposure;
shared - flaws vulnerable.                            
(my)             passion,                                          
(heart is within                                  

Since sixteen,
there is my boy.

adoring (him)
devoted (me)

The one I loved first,

(still) the one I’ve loved best.
RIP JWG 5/31/16
Dhaye Margaux Sep 2015
My love, I have been waiting for your touch
How I long to feel you from morning 'til night

Love me gently, embrace my blatancy
Kiss my innocence, hold me so tight

I'll surrender all to you, my love
Please just stay at my sight

Your song, my song, I hear it
From your heart, my precious knight

My knees are shaking, my heart is beating so fast
My lips are waiting, kiss me, baby, it's alright

You said that you love me, prove it to me, my love
Let your skin touch mine, give me what's just right

My heart, my soul, I'll give you my all
Come one, baby, I am yours tonight*...
This piece is rated Mature and may contain material unsuitable for readers under 18.
Z Atari Jun 2014
I am aware that I'm toxic
It was never fair to believe that in life you just give and receive
Spending half a life as the novelty welcome mat on a rural truck stop.
Nobody ever stayed around, they were all on some journey.
A foot gets put down and occasionally people frown
as in you were never supposed to do that
as in you should be comfortable because people still at least say hi
When the greeter gets greeted they feel more or less defeated
Because everything is done the same daily, it's repeated
Crane that neck around, and see the stomps impeding
On all that sense of worth, that basket full of reassurance that was spread like pixie dust
Take all those coming forward with their not so friendly faces
Get off of the floor and go forward, get ready for the races
Stay down or drown in a pool full of that stiffling reality that just cannot be avoided.
Go toxic.
people ****
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