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Maria Etre Oct 2017
Satisfaction
never laid itself
on a silver platter

As long as I am human
in front of that platter
as long as I will
always ask for
more
more-ness
Mokita (Kivila): The truth everyone knows but agrees not to talk about.
Andreas Simic Sep 2017
Word Association 101©

Today’s word is G-R-A-T-I-T-U-D-E

Select the option you like best as there is no real solution,
and this isn't a real test

So take a position, if it is not an imposition
after all this is nothing but fiction, not a prediction

Leave your hesitation and caution at the door
and put the pedal to the floor

So without procrastination or introduction move trepidation
to elation

Take the plunge it’s not a leap,
for someone here will say throw this on a heap

It may be taken with affection or rejection and
probably needs correction

But onward we go for somehow I must make this flow
Tick the right box if there is such a thing or give it your best fling
If you can’t think of anything

Gratitude is...
Satisfaction
Appreciation

Creation

Gratitude isn’t...
Crude

Lewd
Or attitude


Gratitude leads to...
Fascination
Imagination

Intimate relations

Gratitude may bring...
Evolution

Re-action
Hug action


Gratitude is for...
A job well done
A rising sun

That special someone_

Gratitude, let’s start a revolution that leads to emotion
and maybe to a promotion

Gratitude, life’s gift that keeps on giving
and a premonition in addition

Gratitude, for brothers and sisters and others too, pass it along for all to share because we really do care

Andreas Simic©
Brent Kincaid Sep 2017
I admit that I am like a kid
When I see what I just did
Sitting here alone at home
And writing a really fine poem.

I giggle and dance a bit
Like a rockstar with a hit.
I have to dance, I can’t sit.
I celebrate for a little bit.

I don’t need the world’s applause.
That's like waiting for Santa Claus.
But the approval gives me pause.
Writing is a good enough cause.

It feels so good, it’s physical.
In fact, I’ll claim it is lyrical,
Mystical, and very much musical.
Something like a literary miracle.

I have written down my soul
And that was my entire goal
To communicate is my role
And it came out strong and whole.

So, I write it up and send it out
And maybe mine is the only shout,
That is good enough to brag about.
And sometimes it develops clout.

Some of them gather many fans
Writing doesn't disrupt my plans
But my words have passed through hands
And I am happy with what I began.
Meg B Sep 2017
An insatiable hunger
that rips at my insides;
the more I get, the more
still I'm left wanting.

Mostly served in snacks,
rarely a full meal,
but I want you in five courses
with a glass of wine to pair.

I crave your
lips and fingers on my neck;
salivating at the sound of your voice.

I am famished for every inch of your body, starved for the  intricacies of your mind, ravenous for the layers of your soul.

I yearn for another taste of you,
each moment somehow more delicious than the last.
Thomas EG Aug 2017
Does one simply adjust to happiness or does it fade away in time? Can one ever be truly satisfied? What is contentment if not love? What is love if not fickle? Will this love fade in time? I hope not, for I'm finally happy.
carolyn Jul 2017
It's summer,
the grass is green,
the sky is blue,
and my fingers actually move how I want them to.
that never happens
Miriam Marcus Jul 2017
After a day spent
knee deep in debt,
I retire to morning,
to bed, to basement

It's there, cotton warmth,
jersey in Summer, Summer's here
sitting with me tonight,
cross legged, near ****.

Summer is a dude, I swear to God,
I know his scent. It's like
at the store at 10 PM, it's
the putrid musk infiltrating me

through my eyes, my nose,
my tongue, my tender throat.

After a day spent
knee deep in debt,
I retire to morning,
to bed, to basement

to wait for morning
and her gentle rays
so I may rise from
my concrete tomb,

a revenant, for you,
dripping my dreams,
eaten nearly to death,
to fulfill this debt.
I spend too much time thinking about my boss. Wishing he'd notice some of the ******* I do. Some of the mess I clean. And this heat drives me insane. Last year was hotter, though. Too many people are out for me to take a vacation. Maybe soon, though. So yeah.
Why do we crave so many things
though they leave us unsatisfied
and send us out again for ephemeral
seconds of vanishing gratification?

Is it an absence of essential qualities
that makes us feel unfinished?
Do we indeed believe that more is better,
restlessly chasing for the shiniest of all?

We seem to be obsessed with filling
all the empty spaces in our house of life
with things
barely a place left for ourselves
to comfortably lounge and contemplate
and
    maybe
find the missing elements
waiting
    to be found
    within
and not without
Fathima Jul 2017
Look around,
You will find all eyes down;
some expressionless,
some desperate,
and few smiling!

Both tiny and fatty thumbs
yearning for a rest,
after typing those texts.
Some consulting the Doc
for having a smartphone thumb
and some for lacking vitamin D!
Posts wanting more and more likes.
Kilograms of followers on Instagram!
Swapping stories on Whatsapp!
Unopened notebooks
when you have a Facebook!
Television screens consigned to oblivion
when you have a Youtube!
Discovering the veiled world,
missing the real scenes around.

Emoticons spreading fake feelings,
Stupefying infants swiping through the screens,
Kids imploring to their parents-
To drag out the patterns.

What is more satisfying?
Hitting play button on the screen or
Hitting a six on the field?
Carting products online or
Shopping on a girls day out?
Dribbling a basket ball or
Dragging down the newsfeed?
Watching daily soaps without a dish or
Helping your mother out to wash the dish?
Sharing the snaps of poverty and hunger or
Reaching out to them with eager?
A game of candy crush or
Gifting a candy to your crush?
I feel like whooping out to myself
and to people around;
To raise their heads and
Look around!
Purely aiming my generation-the new generation!
LOOK AROUND AND DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE PEEPS :)
Happy reading :)
JAC Jul 2017
Hope and love
are so often
but the casualties
of satisfaction.
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