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Sophie Mar 2022
Something in the atmosphere

I can smell it

I lie to everyone

“I’m doing well”

We talk about the weather.

Desperate efforts are made

To keep strong the dam.

To stay calm, to

Keep the river from overflowing.

It is, anyway, overflowing.

I will flood the space around me

You will all drown as I drown.
I S A A C Mar 2022
ive been going out every weekend
i dont know if its bad or good
i don’t know if im sad or masking
I dont know if i am replacing habits with other bad habits
maybe im the bad habit
the liable rabbit that fell down the rabbit hole
i always seem to overflow
producing tears by the bucket load
i didnt mean to unload too much
unfold too much, save that for drunken spring brunch
grateful for my team, i know that much
but its hard to me to show my real love
but i live and i learn, i larbour and earn
i wait for my turn, the tables always seem to turn
take a left, trust i’m right, work the day, come alive at night
i think we should
be allowed to cry
in coffeeshops

or any other place
when, even in public,
we are so overcome

with  f e e l i n g

that it spills over
maybe into our
nighttime coffee

we finally feel
quiet, calm, safety

wash over us
for no good reason

what's the use in
sitting there, alone
working, reading

drinking things with
stupid names and pretending
we have it all together

i think we should
celebrate overflowing
which is how i've always

really felt about
crying, anyway
it's all so much

just to exist in a world
with everything to experience
in so little time

and it's really
no wonder our delicate
little vessels

can't handle it
all without some

what's the point
in doing it all and never
letting yourself be full of it

so full that it
spills, runs, drips
from your insides

because there's simply
not enough room for
you to hold it all

i want it all
even if it stings
even when it

really, really, hurts
like deep down in
my bones hurts

and i want the rest
especially when it
feels like my chest

will explode if i
even think of inhaling
another bit of life

i want to cry because
everything hurts so much
even the best parts

i think we should just
let each other be open,
maybe a little too open

what does that
even mean anyway?

i think we should
be allowed to cry
in coffeeshops.
Dylan McFadden Nov 2020
O’ Flowing Stream, smooth and calm,
How gentle are your waves

Oh, how refreshing is your taste;
Like crystal glass, your gaze

I came a long and weary way –
Walked through the deserts dry

And in the moment that my eye
Beheld your view I cried


I cried because my eyes then traced
Your course up to the Spring

The Source beyond the mountain top,
Where blessings flow and bring

I saw a bright and lovely sight:
A plan in the Grand Scheme

Providence…it brought me here,
To drink – to sing – to dream


O’ Stream, now that I’m here with you,
I’m here with you to stay

I’ll make my home and plant a tree
Beside your waters way

I’ll watch it close and give it all
I can to help it grow

And trust the Source to ever-pour
That you may overflow

A poem about my wife
Ken Pepiton Jul 2020
Bullock's orioles, namer cred, for which
I spare no intentional attention
to find the namer's bio, or even spend much time
wondering why men with names like
Bullock need the degree of fame,

there must be a spectrum, of fame, or worth,
a curve on an xy flatness depicting data points
of value, this to that,
high from low, long or short

here nor there, today the birds are being curioser
and kurio-ish, as if
playing a role in my reality, this one
with you
as dear reader the life force pulling lines from

-- Marcus Aurelius and C. G. Jung (in his waning days)
-- influencive words from men at leisure
-- to constitute a self
-- aware of you, dear reader, without you, no word
believes itself, per se,
beautiful for no intended reason. Ask that yellow fellow,
sipping sugar water,

why are you so beautiful. He takes no pride in saying,
I am a Bullock's Oriole.
A morning spent well. As far as I can tell.
VKBoy Feb 2020
Like every *** has a limit
So does every existing heart
As to the weight of emotions
It can carelessly contain.
So let not the *** overflow
Or the heart over bloats.
Do often share sums of it
With the hearts that lack it
Or you’ll fail to handle
The hurdles God throws.
Anastasia Jul 2019
To see you
My heart
It swells
At the thought of you
9:31 a.m.
Madison Greene May 2019
I've been scolded for using the word 'love' too often
throwing it away, as if it had to be secured for romantic encounters or within a length of time
like it might become tired or meaningless
but what if I am so full of love I can't help but overflow with it?
what if I've known platonic love, tender love, fervent love?

so I'll say 'I love you', only when I mean it
and I hope my abundance of it never runs dry
I hope it flows out of me effortlessly, because there will never be such thing as loving too much
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