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Norbert Tasev Mar 2020
Move Straight Forward Like Once In Mathematical Captivity: The Shortest Distance Between Two Points is Straight - not for sure Target, but even more secretly, and therefore silent Unknown - for the sake of hot job interviews, drizzle craps between your job interviews! In the meantime, who can stay with me? A charming look at a fevered ****, a cheap garment tossed in weight of pearls, the only supportive handshake that always has to go with my head on long journeys

I must gather some more power! Despair, like a defiance beside me, the whispering of screaming owls, the inward darkening of the city around me, locked in the solitude of stars - He, the stretched-out, halo-star, the glowing celestial bodies turn to you: How? How can I continue my unfinished life, my missed Presence, according to earthly guidance? - I never played a

a great hero - because I didn't like just slipping into the alleyways of corners like the humble ones. If I am not careful, I am afraid that they will become cold and lame, and that the hardened and still truncated tree will be the years of rampant life - the annoying life of a poor man! S indeed! You can fly freely in the siege of the heavens as a confident Icarus

who is already a man according to our Attila - who does not hold his proud hand in his hand: neither money, lady, nor power? Who can only be lifted out of mud, because he is dew-weak and hesitant in his will to make fateful decisions? Whose flesh is glad to be shared by mocking jackals, Anubisean hyenas, and vultures have outgrown their soul-searching eyes - and who has a pair of unshaven kisses and mothers' care?
Julie Grenness Jan 2020
Yes, a blessed Sunday morning,
A fresh day dawning,
I pray for faith to unite,
In the early morning light,
As our day of earthly prayers does start,
To be blessed, chats straight from the heart!
Feedback welcome.
Marri Dec 2019
You look at her,
She's beautiful,
She's funny,
And unique.

But,
She isn't her.

You look at her dark straight hair.
You stare--
Touch it even.

It slowly transforms into curly twists before your eyes.
You stare in disbelief;
Rub your eyes.

You stare at her round sweet face,
Her pretty eyes,
And her petite lips.

It shape shifts into a strong jawline,
Gorgeous brown eyes (that you fell in love with once),
And soft vivacious lips.

You rub your eyes.

You hear her voice,
It's soft and new.
You smile.

Soon her voice mixes into another,
It's so velvet and mesmerizing.
You can't believe it.

Everywhere you look, images of the girl appear,
Every song you hear is sung by her,
And every sleeping-waking thoughts you have is her.

Aren't you over it?

You tangle your hand into hers.
Hoping the image will stay.
You hold onto her,
Begging the feeling to never stray.

You coil back, and
You look at her.

She isn't me--

And she never will be.
Erian Rose Sep 2019
the space between
a sea of stars
dancing high
gliding far

the space between
a world
full of scars
stitched together in my heart

a space between
the unknown and true
leaving me restless
leading me straight to you

but a space between spaces
wasn't that far
for us to cross borders
on runaway stars

the space between spaces
isn't that far
Jon Hanlan Aug 2019
Extractor of those awfully embedded times
That traveling memory, hidden in the back of worn suitcases
Brown leather and ties, like no remorse
Those breaths imparted, w/ lasting glare
The smoky windows in beat up wagons
Split lips from the boys on back loan
Wartimes, dragging utter sadness from the porch swing
Lost a tooth, and that made it smooth
Soothe the pain, w/ pints of tipsy water
We watch the sunset, in the field next door
Kissed & dangled, our bust behind us
Tumbled in the meadow, w/ no one else around
The boy I brought home is the same I fought
Every night, we tossed and paddled
Had I known, he would stay w/ me, forever
The girls from Seventh Ave. tickled me
W/ their stunty eyes and elongated dresses
Wishing, for a moment, we were out: the kids, picnic party w/ the club
Pa saw it in my eyes, the mailman and I
Even at the table with the shipped ashes and ol’ rummy
Playing hard to get with nothing but straight chaser
The mirror became such ferment to my frame
I began perturbing every milking like a daily lashing
And soon protruded my perimeters into giant horned gnats
Ground crackling and separated with ceaseless dust storms
Divided, on the fence back in the meadows watching it rain afar
In the familiar fields I laid, now a barbaric, decoded passing
I walk to the cellars every now and again, with my badges
Discreetly pacing the acreage, for a taste of interim regression
Now with no bandages nor luggage to carry my born chores
belbere Jul 2019
i have lain here
for nights on end
trying to make sense of the stars

mama never did teach
me how to read
the patterns in the skies,
what reason did i have
to look up
when the fairy lights
we hung
were so pretty
if i wanted constellations
i could take a pen
and map out the spots
on my skin

mama never did teach
me how to dream,
what need could there be
when hers were already
big enough for
the both of us
to share
i could look up
and count the stars
in her night skies
and never worry about
my own

mama never did teach
me how to walk
tall, keep my back up
straight, with her chin
raised high she
looked right past
my crooked posture
and in to
her future,
i stood straight
in her visions,
it was all she needed
to see

i think she gave it
her best
i think she gave her
self better
and i’m still trying to make
sense of the stars
unsure of whose they are
anymore
Maria Etre Jun 2019
They "One" My Pride
June is Pride month and they *won mine
I love each and everyone of you!
Faith May 2019
Torn out
Tightly yet intricately woven
Pulled up high
Half-dead
Twisted
Excessively washed, cleaned, and dried
Straightened
Fried
Surprised it hasn't all fallen out yet
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