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Faith Cubitt Apr 2
Almost....
death could not hold a torch to the word that lingers in my mind every second of every day.
we were almost something, and that almost will haunt me for the rest of my life.
I will think about how we almost kissed that night in the dark, drunk off ***** and each other.
how you almost held my hand when we were so close to each other in the back of that old chevy truck.
the almost, when you smiled at me,
when we looked at each other,
when every word held so much anticipation.
our almost will be my forever.
you are all I ever wanted my almost to be....
There will always be dark of night,
It is a common human plight.
Often it's hard to move throughout the black,
But what you'll find if you keep moving,
A kindling of light,
Never leave behind a dream.

I miss you
I miss you too


Life will knock you down,
It seems to be the only thing it really knows,
But in the face of doubt,
Move about,
You will come to find,
It's hard to keep inside the night.

May I still hold her when the sun dips well bellow the sea
Tell me lord, may I still praise her if there is dark?


In times of doubt you must stay strong,
Far away from backhanded thoughts,
Never let love waver,
Reinforce it with iron arms,
Be calm with the winds of night,
Condemn this mortal spite.

Never doubt that I am here,
I will hold you safe from the tendrils of fear.


But once it's found,
You fear losing this light,
The piece of love you found,
Within the blinded world of now,
Don't be worried
For if you worry it is destined to leave.

I love you,
I love you too.
Inspired by my love, every time I almost lost my love, the faint piano that plays in our souls, and every little grace of our skin.
Jeremy Betts Mar 19
I'd like to have a single today
Without the thoughts of a yesterday
And one nights worth of restless sleep
With no looming doom of a tomorrow that has a promise to keep

©2025
Maria Mar 10
I've known you for so long,
Longer than forever,
Longer than all the circles of hell,
Longer than simply never.

I remember your cracks
On your wind-chapped lips,
Every wrinkle on your hands
Because of a strong freeze.

I hear every your word
That is kept quiet by you.
It's like a movie in constant replay,
In which I can't hear you.

I've got away so many times...
Or maybe I thought so...
The result is that I've never been able to.
And now I'm here in whole.

I'm with you, completely rudderless.
I don't need it at all.
I think I'll watch the rest of my life
Here, with you in the starring role.
Nat Lipstadt Feb 23
Dearest Patty m.,

we admire, admit to raw nailed jealousy
when we read the works superior
with the greatest worn scruffy complementary compliment
a poet
can give to
another scribe

How I wish I had written that,
those very words!


confessing before the world
with our own humility
at the daily dawning of
realization that
morning brings freshness and
insights needy for release and
aborning and the trace of humiliation
that we’ve all  ready
been breached bested
by others,
once again…

BUT
we do not bow!
no courtly arm sweeping,
back bent, at best
a nod of a head
then

privately
we gasp, rent our clothes,
throw the body flat to the floor,

observing seven days of mourning
reserved
for when we morning moan,
daylight groan and loan out our
croissant moon mooing cries to
bemused muses
in the clouds supervising,
as tears of, an admixture of,
an elixir of joy, compassion
and thus refreshed by someone’s
new infant’d christening
we *****. we resurrect, gamble,
throwing ourselves complete like dice,
in to a roll of
stunned stupor of high inspiration
and then make out best work
ever yet

but never do we bow, scrape,
bend the knee, maybe the head,
we mourn our lesser failings
and smile as we flash words
from our eyes,
stored in our mindsets,
our, my best, will
always be yielded up
next
——
addendum
———
seven years ago
in a separate guise,
he ssid it differently
maybe better?
:<•>

epilogue

read my face
incapable of,
deprivation
but how now silent
bow my head to Will
for teaching the way of words
traced upon
a fool or a king's tongue,
two too human,
so that poet may ken
his senses keener,
all for the better,
for the betterment of all
Jeremy Betts Feb 17
I tried giving a fuuck
Never did I ever receive a single one back
Tired of pushing my luck
To the forefront of a full frontal barbaric attack
Feels like passing the buck
The offer of a penny for your thoughts never taken so they stack
Trudge through the muck
Stomping on what you hope is dog shiit in a burning paper sack
That unwanted feeling stuck
Used and abused then put back on the rack

©2025
Zack Ripley Sep 2024
I'll never be the mechanic
that can show you how to fix a flat tire.
And I'll never be the eagle scout
that can start a fire.
No, I'll never be your knight in shining armor. But I'll always be the one
that can make you smile.
Cause I'll always be the one you can talk to every once in awhile
when you want to feel wanted and loved.
Jia En Dec 2024
Everything has got to be the best
Nowadays. For every little test
And exam must we come out on top;
Never must we stop
Working at our every skill;
Take
A break
And everything you're good at will
Just disappear.
Everyone just
Wants what's at the top of Mt. Everest.
I guess I've got to get used to
How it works around here.
Always having to do
More than what you can.
Sometimes I just don't understand
It but every explanation
I get just adds more and more complications
To the tangled mess in my head.
I miss how things were before
Instead.
Nowadays even the karang gunis
Don't want newspapers anymore.
if you don't know what a karang guni is, then here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karung_guni#:~:text=%22Karung%20guni%22%20is%20a%20Malay,use%20a%20hand%20truck%20instead.
bucketb0t Dec 2024
EARGASM > ******
***'s every overstated play: overrated...
Buckethead's every understated play: underrated!

Buckethead's insatiable music is never on period.
Happy that I exist in his period
Grateful that he exists, period!
Some bucketbot mania in regards to Buckethead's music
Ken Pepiton Oct 2024
Choice shells sold sorted sweet and sour.
aaand we nevee lived, but in the desert,
so we guessed
at what the salt's for,
we assumed the sop was
vinegar's for dippin's our first guess.

This is political persuasion, right?

Republic, right
we 'as been called to pre
serve that very same virtue-ish
mankindly thinkable true proven rules.
old philosophia true love
above this drab duty we loyalists
weary our way through, standing
at attention, sayin' not a word,
ai, as if we be the very guardians
of royal lies
about Jehovah's choices
in chosen Nuclear war operators.

"But Socrates wants to show
that there are further considerations
to emphasize the higher pleasures
of the just life:
not merely peace
of mind, but the excitement
of pursuing knowledge, produces
an almost godlike state
in the human being.---"
https://www.pursuit-of-happiness.org/history-of-happiness/socrates/

some minutes
beyond beginning,
thinking this day amazing,
ai, a thread,
from a lost chord, may hap
cross wire at a capacitor impressed
full umpht, sputter,
sparked internal combustion,

oh, hell yes, this is that, doit, init, intuit
pfft/ mater/antimater, umpht pa,
phissss
per haps as happens, happenings as such,
always seem
to cause some wins, and same so,
cause
about as many losses.

Woe, though be,
to me, I guess,
eventually, it is a whole lotta fun,

Ag me on,
we have a dis agreement, just here

Soon enough this pleasure will
become neutral as I adjust
to my new condition. Nearly all
of our pleasures are relative like this,
hence they are not purely pleasurable.

Another example would be the experience
of getting high aiaiai
on drugs:
this can produce a high state
of pleasure
in the short-term, but then will
inevitably lead
to the opposite state
of pain.
--- oy vey and yada yada yada\ I'm quoting

inevit-able, hiccups,
in my motor skills, vino,
in excess-elcius,
trusting qwerty guy
to get us through the trials

and at tempts, at tensions, at this point, highly
skeptical as
to utility, save the enjoyment
akin
to that little joy, young Dodgson
took as granted, his,
to use,
to tell us
all that he could imagine inspiring.
Ah, and then, this,

Ever after upto just now,
Wonderland, and oyster stew.

Ai, art indeed, this happened, just now, indeed.

Instant wisdom, hesitant mediation,
aha and aum, in the manner of TV Ginsburgian
augmentation of McLuhan's sorrow, that as of yet
you know nothing of his work…

the effort to be smarter than anyone else,
bet on the royal flush dealt to the lonesome loser.

My hand, who could imagine, I'd bet my life.
Charles Dodgson and Lewis Carroll, in a facsimile version, with the typesetter's masterpiece phi swirl at the mouse's tale... indeed we live in magical days.
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