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M Solav Jul 2019
I wanna make it simple
But it ain't
Though it is.

I thought it'd be easier
If I stopped
But I kept going.

I tried to correct the course
But no excuse
Could be admitted.

So I keep on writing
Just to seem
Like I knew it all along.
Written in July 2019


— Copyright © M. Solav —
This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
__________
Her elegant gaze
astonishes
the wicked souls
of desire.  

Her simplicity
transcends
the beauty
of a goddess.

And yet
she offers
her nakedness.

Not her body
but her
authentic soul
for me to write on.
I wrote this poem to feed the notion that simplicity beats perfection.
Greg Piegari Jun 2019
Keep it simple stupid. I keep telling myself this everyday and it’s working...it’s ******* working.....why in the hell do we make things so much more difficult for ourselves than it has to be? It’s because we are human. We **** up, we hurt, we cry, we laugh, we live, we love, but in the end we learn we will always learn. Stop giving yourself so much ****....the world is doing enough of that for you already. So just put up your ******* and yell *******! Because you are more important and the way you feel is ******* valid that’s the simplicity of the matter.

Learning is the hard part but it’s the necessary step and if you are accepting to learn than you just figured out how to K.I.S.S
Your simplicity
is like
a flame.

That's why
them moths
are drawn
to you.

They honor
and adore
your name.

A memento
that natural
beauty
is true.
A simple poem for Mary Joy Salutin.
"Simplicity always wins."
Josh Jun 2019
I ask her how do I recognize her beauty?

Do I stare until you see me and then look away?

Do I stare until you see me and never look away?

Your flows and grace catch my eye from far away.

I carefully inspect your curves until your gone.

Should I not look your way?  It would be easier for me.  

I ask her how should I recognize her beauty.

She says, A simple smile will do.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
These shoes are worn
This soul is torn

My empty glass
Was once half full

But as Mondays wear me down
Fridays don’t come fast enough

I tune one string
Five more go flat

I whittle my stuff down
To things that matter

A simpler life, a happier life
I love what I have around me

Even if it’s worn shoes, an empty glass
And a guitar that’s out of tune.
Lillian May May 2019
she walks with grace
and a deep, earned sense of place
she smiles
and as laughs tickle at her waist
others around can't help but follow in haste

she has no nickname,
no joke or snicker surrounding her frame
no clever breadcrumbs
to tell the story of how she became
she simply is, and exists as a flame

she has an air of peace,
and a soft, subtle feeling of ease
she opens her lips
and as she speaks
tears from his eyes begin their leaks.
I wonder what or who you picture.
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