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I let myself be in love once
Giddy and gleeful
Not butterflies in my stomach
But warm milk in my belly

I was devoted
I was obedient
I was his.

Until I decided not to be.
Because when you give all yourself over
You lose yourself
And now I have been gone for awhile
I have forgotten how to live

And at times I don’t want to live
It sits on my chest
Weighs down my heart
Until I no longer want to be present
Or have this present from the melancholy king

But I am growing again
And I feel my soul stretch
Like a cat after a cozy afternoon nap
And I am ready
And excited
Oh so excited for what will happen

But for now (and maybe for ever
-fingers crossed)
I do not want to be in love
I do not want to have a lover

For if being in love is a debt
I do not want to be in the business of it
It has nothing to do with me
.


It was God's cruel gift
he gave unto me

the ability ,

to look into someone
through their heart

(and see)


The eyes are a portal
through which light flees

(be it)

white or dark

it's all revealed
to me


The words they say
or in silence be

(unto my eye)

there is all to see


Sometimes the overload . . .

the thousands touched
looking for gold

not finding much
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2019
Variations on OK: “I'm ok... as in just okay :)“

ah, me making the global rounds,
with the poem interns in tow, observing poet patients,
me, the anti-troll meme, asking the lonely legions,
“what’s up, just checking in,”

responsa included the nuanced range of variations
of the simplest terms,

Variations on OK: “I'm ok... as in just okay :)“

the normal curve of emotional disturbances, falling mists,
category 5 storms and verbal cover-up girl makeup all represented by
OK

this, then, the OK stuff of human poetry, the plain, the innocuous, inadmissible guiltily non-confessions that are the infectious complexity of heartache, humongous jealousy of those surficially
just innocently happy, those who fear of failing,
longing for what was and can not be true once more,
so with not-even-a-serious-word a reminder of our masks when meeting Quo Vadis,
the replies come in summarizing shades of:

OK: “I'm ok... as in just okay :)“

a perfectly good response, shadings and gradations
that shout volumes deserving of interpretations, talmudical exegesis,
across continental contestation,^^^meaning obviously that the contra-opposite is likely what’s meant,
all indirect giving access when delving into their abyss,
as in the rock n’ roll verse states,

“just dropped in to see what condition your condition is in”^

okay.

yes, it’s true okay is better than not okay,
which is better than the catch all meaningless of the
OK....the one, that dribbles off into air hanging, silent albatross

but the insertion of the modifier

just

makes the meaning of the fully, half born, sentence summation diagrammable except
OK
is not valid in life size, grownup version game  of Scrabble(d) hearts

this is how I spend my everyday vacation days
exploring everything human

the graze of a hand, the longest slow journey of a singlet tear,
a child’s shrieking glee, the nightmares gasps
when they woke the awoken,
the intelligible whimpering vocabulary of the new born innocent,
the spackled, patching of the speckled cracking of the
semi-autonomous, wish-it-wasn’t human,
my, busted-heart

so when two lovers continental shelves do not meet,
but graze each other, altering the landscape of emotions,
OK, just, okay is
sedimentary weak but perfect

you are the interloper ghost,
who now asks “how ya doing,”
the famous just “checking in,”
and
in the sliding spaces where mountain ranges get created,^^^

the O in Okay is a black hole disguised

I'm ok... as in just okay :)”

though this is a Buffalo Springfield “ain’t exactly clear”
you accept and understand for aching hearts are the
specialty of the maison

and that is all I have to say on the matter.

OK?
<>

3:21am Monday September 30 ~ 10:38pm Friday October 4, 2019
sage silcross Oct 2019
i stitch myself back together

with strands plucked from conscience

glistening points drawn out into gossamer

you come to me in comets

bringing the dawn to an astronomer

scried in seams of aether
- spellthief
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2019
First Line: The Most Popular Words on HP

those  selected below, are copied from the current top line of the Words section on HP,  which I believe, represent the most often used/“popular” words on the site.

love      time      heart      life      eyes      feel      day      
mind      night      things      left      find      long

when  I find love next time, and the next time,
the heart that has powered this life,
will avoid the trapping eyes that initialize the
first feel, the first contact, those things that are
the mind seducers, whether,
one, if by day
two, if by night

which is it?
love is blind, but we all dream of love at first sight!

which’s why, I’ve left the world of find,
long ago, deciding that love will find me in its own
peculiar time, way, method, until that occurs,
dreaming of that happenstance will inspire
a poem of the day, each day,
until time postpones either my
heart or mind, my senses, or the search is concluded,
which will most likely be through my jewels,

my very own words
Diary of Jane Sep 2019
Win;
At least I don't have to see you with her everyday now.

Loss;
I don't get to see you either, anymore.
Today I got her response,
It was "12 AM" on the clock.
There was no power in our block,
It was the  STUDY room where I had to skulk;
but the rain was pouring on the rocks.
Oh! I forgot to thank my poetic kludge.

I put my phone on charge and reply her back,
with an appropriate emoji that match,
and now we were exchanging words.
That flirty nature of mine;
Runs through the fingers when I had wine.
many nasty and hasty thoughts were rising;
and I had to made them extemporize,
so that it matches her vibe.

I asked her dose she have a twin?
and send her a picture to help my chances win.
soon she sees the picture she asked her name,
It's "SAZAN"  and welcome to my game.

The conversation with her was amazing and fecund,
and she worth every second.
We both are strangers but for a moment we exist together,
in a digital screen as if it's a white paper.
TRUE STORY
Meher Sep 2019
Slowly and silently
you slipped out of my conversations
Nights which were once
soaked by tears you gave me
in return of my love
Are peaceful now

I don’t remember you
when I stroll down the memory lanes
the places where
we promised each other forever
You made the moments
that were so precious
Open to every other souls right there
Blamed me of breaking your heart
Chaos around me
But I learned how to make peace with them

Turns out that
My heart doesn’t hurt anymore
When your name is mentioned
I don’t feel the butterflies in my stomach
When I see your smile

I only remember you
When I’m hating myself
Your words like gasoline to my thoughts
You’re only here in my mind
Burning my sanity
When I’m drowning in liquor.
May contain grammatical errors as English is not my first Language
Enas Sep 2019
I’m at the river bank

drowning in your tears, Ophelia.

Why call for me?

Your soul rests in Rue.

Your Soliloquy lives in Aloe.

You’re a haunting echo.

I listen to your eulogy,

my heart is speechless

and wonders in a water dream-escape;

in remembrance it feels,

in freedom it breathes

and in love it lives.

A lotus blooms in my depths,

Lilies grow in my skin

and Roses bloom in my palms.

I wish you would see me walk on water, Ophelia.
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