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Raven Feels Feb 10
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, version two?

I feel content
for I thought it to be satisfaction in a poem sent
yet the polars are polars
despite a fine line in between growing bolder
listen
for I define my own definition
satisfaction is the acceptance fulfilled
of having a cup half filled
yet content is the embrace of the enough
it's so humble to be touched
appreciating the made
for the reflection might be a blade
for the youth
for the drain for the truth
the empty half & the half full state
hoping for a better taste
from the cup before
lips to stumble none or nor

                                                            ­                     -------ravenfeels
Brumous Oct 2021
I am a coward
with little to no integrity,
who only chooses
what satisfies me.
𝐅𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐥= Pretending to work without actually accomplishing anything.
Zywa Sep 2021
Creamy white, sweet pink,

a bunch of satisfaction --


our bed of roses.
Collection "Take a picture, now"
Dark Dream May 2021
I am
gleaning
Scraps
I am
Starved
AND
they are not
Satisfying
at all
I want to stand,
on solid ground,

a canopy covered cloud,
to dream all day-round,

I want to live,
my best life,
and breathe,
like there's only,
today
https://www.instagram.com/wutheringsbronte/
Payton Feb 2021
You were the definition of
             Satisfaction.
You were the    blood
                                  in my veins, and
the smoke     in my lungs.  
I was addicted to you in the worst of ways.
It was you who could quench the eternal thirst at my lips. And it was you who could satisfy the ravenous hunger in my bones.
You were everything I needed all at once. And You gave me everything I ever wanted.
A love that
                  consumed  
                             me.
Check out the other poems in the "Addictions" series!
This poem was written in 2016.
Ken Pepiton Feb 2021
sides in position
self imposturing, pre sep
paration, settling scores and bounds
separation
church from state… wait

what are these

things? Words? Or mental wisps
inter
daring done to render due
to whom due, honor or otherwise reknown.

Heroic words. I've uttered some,
imagining all boys did,
singing with their dad's, to Queen,
we
are the champions
of the world, we pretend, to the end, then

we fall away… or they
fall away … the anthems in the ballparks,
oh,
say. can you see… we are the cops,
we are the redcoats and the brown shirts
and the cavalry and the real estate speculators,

slipping my grip, the idea of me, citizen-soldier,
come limping home from the edge
of baseball,
where futbol over laps ancestral lessons
in rendering unto the owner rents ……….

How old is old?
Ask a child, for old men never
learn the bounds, or
if they do, I can't say,
there seem no theys I fit just right.

I
balance _ or I lie /I\ am lifted leaning lost.
…………..

Salt, salaried man,
spending time in reading strange sayings
as if
we
know there is meaning found some times,
we think.
we mentalate, cogitate, take a tic

to stop
and think
a gain or a loss, more sense or less, inessence
or essential point

in time? See? Say what you see? Squiggle wiggle
vermicule breeeze, or
whispy vapour
rising
above or diving into a period,
a point
in time to see ifery vanish in wasery wonder iffing
whatsitmatter,
any way.

We lived past that. Now, we make sense……..

Radical is root-related, as well as
edge
related… out on the edge of known
a
self awareness wonders at my existing
outside the inside
as seen on TV
via AI guides through the explosion of knowns

I am anonymous.
There is a canyon near my home
the sign says it is the canyon with no name.
The map says it is a slot-like canyon, with no name.

Thingery thinking in terms of lines and letters letting
all we knew
blow into the winding times told of in tales too tedious
to
recall
with Howard Bloom level detail. {he is unique}
He touches me, do I not touch back? The curio knows.

How sharp the edge of a point stretched from

the mind that could see the wind whip a spark to life.

Sense when nonsense seems the fashion, the way
forms fashion fasteners around axes,
facistical twigs and vines

something says this is missed as a message,
this ax bound in sticks,
I dare, I do, I ask what was the meaning of this,
and
while we're on my dime, what's with the wings
on the Phrygian cap,

I mean,
what was the artificer's source of inspiration, like
why is liberty always a lady
wearing fashion far up the ladder of learned things,
what is the trick
that
feminine wile, legendary lure, curious art, enchanting
c'mon
one bite.

That idea, boing, stretched so tight it threatens ever
if it
breaks once, just
once

the attention span…

An encrustation sensation overwhelms me,
I'm thinking
I know
I know
I know
nothing so important that it could not wait to be said
by you, reader/writer being ready
read on

words to the wise are plenty,
these who say we know bread, they say leave the leaven.

:they said leave it in Egypt:

But who knows how?
Sour dough is sour dough, y'knows, it don't cook with no bubbles,
no,
dough rises in a backpack tied to an ***, crossing the red sea,
near that place where
National Geographic got that image of a golden chariot wheel,
reminiscent of the drowned army,
or was that
not true?

Do you believe AI knows? I mean, does your believing matter?
Ask who knows what and you learn, the memory we share
holds answers to questions you are afraid to ask.
………….

One in 8 billion, those are the current odds,
taken to scale, with man, all varieties and models,
augmented intellectuals allowed,
the measure,
of all things…
but
two's a crowd.
Social distance morphic resonance,

send me money, I am drowning in debt…
do I doubt?
Don't you, what if… somebody is going to win,
I think I can.

Ha, Wattie Piper, child hood infection exposed
too soon  to
W. Clement Stone, do it now

selah, right word right time, just before
I lose my mind

na na na na
--------------

Is the universe friendly,
does it matter if we know or if we agree?
It is,
I say.

I made my bet, I go with the goodness aspect
of knowledge,
truth itself, yes, the idea, real, the whole

enchilada.
Good is never evil. That is a true story rule,
you can bet on it,
because life isn't fair.

Think no evil, see no evil. My side won.
My weapons are not mortal, I know.
Once fooled, once ready,
I know
the trick is knowing good enough to know
the difference,
by now. We are mostly post-

original disconnection beans being removed
at birth,
with that little blue **** thingy,
nigh on universal by 1948,

super bloom, that was the year, the pollen way,
say,
hey, see this singer singing home song long song
so
far away, way way way away
hey

---- dancing dust motes seen in sun ---
A scratched itch, if nothing more.
A damsel in distress I am,
To your satisfaction,
I wish I knew more of this but the sky was too limited,
Paying my bills to this Universe,
For all that love and all the hatred I was always so capable of!
To your satisfaction
An animal too sweet
sacrificed a much too sweet pitiful animal, supernatural,
Too bitter a cause.

And I am also a feral beast,
Ferociously eating my sandwich,
My part of the sandwich, you won't touch!
My share of wonders, all mine, all mine...
God... sorry... I am too forgiving...
Yes, you may have it, you poor much more famished beast...

And I am a teller of fortune,
Your life was all to beautiful,
You may live in the past...
The future is for the ones who want to last forever....

And I am a changer of pasts, combining
Your Universe lost with mine,
My planet a place for you _only if apart.

But I am lovable.... oh well, I used to be...
Maybe I don't remember correctly
How things should be!
Jennifer Nov 2020
hot tea kisses nurtured
lips
and the morning is patient
and barely speaks.
cold hands are warmed
under bedsheets
and wordless admiration
silently exhales.
mundane tasks become
a thoughtful feat
and sitting by the fire at night
i flutter into a loving sleep.
gentle time passes
dotingly
for she knows of such innocent
longing.
satisfaction beyond peace embraces
day and night,
being is effortless here
there is no need to take flight.
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