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Anthony Mayfield Jun 2018
Maybe you'll stumble and fall off the road
Maybe you'll lose what with tight hands you hold
Maybe you'll drop it all
Only then you will see

That you don't really need me

Withstand the pain
You'd better say
I wish you well
Maybe you'll sail
Maybe you'll fly
Maybe you'll fail
But first you must try
For life is a flight
My angel so bright
Withstand the pain
I hope you say
I wish you well

Maybe we'll see each other again someday
I wish you well
We'll meet again through this pain
I wish you well

Dreams aren't always what they seem
Dreams aren't always gone when we wake from sleep
Dreams reveal to us who we truly are
And your dream has made you a star

Withstand the pain
If you can, please say

I wish you well

I'll meet you in the sky
I wish you well
I wish you well
I wish you well...
Never say goodbye until it's the right time. But the right time never comes...
Rebecca Lynn Jun 2018
You know how to make me laugh,
and make me smile -
it's been a year since you've seen me last,
yeah, it's been a while.

But no man has ever made me feel,
the way I feel about you
the way I do.

I'm so glad my hearts always racing
when I'm catching your gaze and
my heart has never felt like this
all full of bliss,
baby come and give me a kiss.

I never felt quite like this before,
and I'm so glad that you found me
and so much more.
I wrote this as a song, it's not the whole piece only pieces put together. This is an original piece, sounds good with music.
tobi Jun 2018
i hope karma gets you
in the worst way
and the most surprising way
imaginable
i hope it bites you in your *****
and puts you through hell
i hope you learn
that life isn’t as easy
in this small town bubble
the only place we’ve known
i hope you learn
that diving straight in the deep end
will have consequences
i guess karma
will be waiting
with snarling teeth
good riddance pt 2
Constantine Jun 2018
Poems are lovely
simple words painting vivid images
lovely paintings of girlies who
have long since left me
with only words left to express
nothing left to leave my mouth
only write
soon, i will serenade my love to show her
how someone can truly love another human
Bryce Jun 2018
And when I met that girl in San Francisco
Off a dusty little pier
with rotting wood
and squawking seals
And screaming bayside wind

She caught me off-tropics
and danced with the grace
of a palm tree
lines between the quaked
concrete
off telegraph avenue
On an obscuring Sunday morning

and no
she didn't go
to church or any silly thing
like a temple or synagogue
She said those were no places
for god

God was the trees

We smoked cigarettes and got off to each other's
carcinogenic practices
oxidizing a little faster in conjunction with hopeful
Formaldehyde
Deriding the formalities
of small talk and trivialities

She liked her guitars with nickel-wound strings
I with nylon
But I couldn't play songs
that sounded any good with them
while she could
and did.

and girl did it ever sound good

She'd laugh at the contests on the radio
while we drove on a half-moon
to half-moon
full and whole of ourselves
We'd stopped in the lobby of a cheap motel
And waltzed to background
muzak
wacked out of our minds
Sniffing in deep huffs of subliminal
divinity
Understanding
loving
that mind-numbing
monotony

muzak...
ppsh.
Who ever really listened to that?

And then she left
at the end of one fine winter day
in a cloudless sky I waved
watched her plane
skip off
towards the edge of a pale blue horizon
back south
to warmer climes
to wherever she truly stayed
The tugging on my heartstrings
chimed grotesque in
precise
D minor.
Bryce Jun 2018
I suppose
if I could metamorphose
Into a new skin
with wings
and a bigger brain

I would.

I contemplate
that this fate
may not be
the best for me.

And yet

I wait

I will grow
and cocooned in the modern american sheen
Dream of wings
miles away
from an airport or two
across the bay
they wave
from boys in areoplanes

I know
there is great green valleys for me
with deciduous trees
and anemones
and bears that ski
on their big fluffy bellies
in the shadow of some upthrust rockface

I beat
the drum of ****** life
and think the heavy drought of thought
and drink
the steaming heat of dreams

I knew
when I was a zygotic mass
imbibed with life
and stolen with soul

That I would be
The best ****** butterfly
You'll ever see.
(alternate title – A bona
er fide dog day afternoon delight).

A mere half dozen vowels
constitute the English language
    Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay
Consonants comprise majority
  
(sans remaining twenty)
     Ta Deum, whereby both
     in tandem allow, enable and provide
     avast combination

    donning brooks at bay
ample lettered permutations
offer opportunities, where methinks
mother tongue avails

     allows, enables and provides thyself
tubby spell as sigh arrange
     passions linkedin to create, evoke
and generate plenti

     of romantic expressions to convey
an amorous, bedazzling conception
describing ******, graphic,
     and iconic ****** propensities
  
this cobbler, dabbler,
     and fiddler (no,
     not on the roof) doth display
his penchant, lament bent infatuation

     with these twenty-six symbols
     that **** hen ewe to evolve,
     and breed vernacular words
     to reflect from an eBay

definitions apropos
     to the present, which
Uber state farm quixotic oeuvre,
and matchless kindling

     ******* serves as foreplay
for this heterosexual ma reed male
     caressing, finessing, and integrating
expressions of speech

     oft times spurs
     (what might seem as noun sense),
I ponder the peccadilloes
     being sixty nine shades of gray

yet quickly reroute
     ****** predilections
     albeit rolling in the hay
whence this dis straw t fellow
  
conjures affinity,
     comity and excitability
latent within the consanguinity
of bossy verbs assaying boisterously
  
an interjection tubby
     top dog capstone amidst kennel
of barking canines couching
     with another similar subject
  
each with their body electric
nestled upon a davenport faux pas inlay
in conjunction with another
     furry four legged friend,

     the direct object
particularly eye ying a ***** in heat,
     who **** okay
to buffer end an un

     pro noun sub bull underdog species,
     who feels passé
with ****** faw paw play
though averse to insult

     shaggy scoobie doo,
whose bark a role overture
     willingly doth goad her to doggy paddle
while she woofs down remnants

     of a picnic tourists left littered
while Lady and the *****
     head toward the quay
Pier ring for private sloop

     to **** per ****,
     then prematurely ******* hoo ray
afore slyly cagily approaching
     bag of cheap tricks see
     ****** exploits today.
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