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Molly Greenhood Jun 2017
You came in the room, freshened up my coffee
dipped your head to my shoulder, said you felt so happy
turned on the tv, laying on your couch
under cream colored blankets and drinking whiskey
the rain had finally started falling
I kissed your neck and said you're everything
I kissed your cheek and said don't ever leave me
how can this all feel so easy
my tortured past felt so hazy
you looked down at me with amorous eyes
lazy, wide, searching for me inside
I touched the sunburn on your chest
warm and bare, then exposed the rest
I'd like to remember the way you looked that night
dancing around in the bright kitchen light
singing wildly as you cooked
you grabbed me round the waist and pulled me
close to your body and said you missed me
I won't ever forget the way you touched me
I threw my head back and felt the ecstasy
you pushed my hand back and fell silently
into my body like the rainfall, softly
cascading down the window next to me
I never want the rain to stop
please don't ever let this rain stop
Sort of a train-of-thought poem I wrote with the tune of 'Gustavo' by Mark Kozelek & Jimmy Lavalle repeating in my mind.
Ryan Holden Apr 2017
Fog and black clouds surround the air,
Gloomy faces, tired eyes from weekend festivities,
Two empty days isn't fair,
We didn't fit in many activities,

Miserable, sorrowing over deprived sleep,
Eyes filled and thoughts weep,
Friday please will you remain,
Monday I order you to refrain.
Just a silly poem about Monday's . After all, everybody hates Monday's!
Laura Enright Apr 2017
the corner shop near the railway station
opens now unlike when we came here first
when everything would shut on Sunday

the flea market in Mauerpark
is over-ridden with people selling kitsch
but we always go and we love it

everyone is so cool here that I think being cool
isn't hip anymore,
the street is a sea of hipsters in black

it's early Spring and there is still
no ferries on the Spree
but if you walk down the right street

you'll catch a couple of musicians
maybe a juggling act  
that blend in with graffiti and art

in the evening we'll go to the TV Tower
like tourists
pretend we can afford dinner in the revolving restaurant

two hundred and three metres high
and look over the cars on the road to Berlin-Mitte
that look like graceful glowing bugs below

we'll get have a cocktail with dinner in Caramba
in the square (just one)
and listen to light German jazz

with no need to worry
if the transport still runs at night
Neville Johnson Apr 2017
Here comes the weekend
I’m the lucky one
Off with my baby, talking fun
Bathing in her beauty and in the sun
Walking on the sand
All without a care
Of course, you understand
What it’s like to be in love
To know that it is true
Here comes the weekend
And the skies are blue

There is no other
Nor could there ever be
Just take one look at her
You know what I mean
More than picture perfect
So delicious a treat
Yeah, and that’s not all
She’s more than very sweet

All in all we’re perfect mates
On the good ship Happy Heart
Aye aye we sail away on mighty clouds of joy
Here comes the weekend
Which we will certainly enjoy
LucidLucy Apr 2017
Ain't no hope for this restless soul.

My work is the only piece I find whole.

The rest of me I am yet to see.

The rest of me needs to get away from me.

My bitter past is holding me back.

Future needs to be fixed, stacked on a rack.

Maybe next year I'll find a better replacement of you.

Or I can start this year,  while my beers are still cold and new.
Debanjana Saha Apr 2017
As the weekend marches,
deep down something crushes me inside
although I enjoy my company
but when I see other having fun
it somehow stabs me from behind.

No, I don't want to compare
it only makes me more of a fool,
as the weekend marches everybody seeks for themselves
Just to have one more sip of enjoyment!
Not to compare but everyone seeks for some refreshment during the weekend. Our mind is forced to look upon weekend as a blessed 2 days. I wish everyday I could feel the blessing of being alive and breath.
Aaron LaLux Mar 2017
Close Enough To Sunday

It’s all fckt up,
can’t even pretend that it’s not,
I get invited out to these events,
where everyone’s dressed up,

but I’m not,
I’m there in jeans and a t-shirt,
thanking those that are thanking me for writing these prophecies,
but really I’m not sure what all this work was or is really worth…

written about ten books,
multiple international best sellers,
#1 Poetry Book in The World,
3 times in a row for worse or for better,

but really,
what am I saying,
and really,
what are you saying,

it’s all fckt up,
and we all know it,
still we pretend it’s all good till the end,
we had a Chance we just needed to not blow it,

but we did,
we neglected the earth,
even though we all knew and know,
that that Moment of Truth will hurt,

I can’t even have a drink at a club,
without feeling guilty for the pollution we’ve caused,
even when those drinks are free and served with a smile,
because I know that smile is covering some recently retreated sores,

we’ve neglected the poor,
and caused significant scars,
on the skin of the earth,
now Musk wants to colonize Mars,

and that’s not a shot at Elon,
I trust him and his vision,
he’s a genius creation,
a creative genius that generally makes good decisions,

I’m just saying,
given the current position,
whether Elon Musk or a homeless pigeon,
we’re all fckt and that’s the fckn situation,

it’s all fckt up,
can’t even pretend that it’s not,
I get invited out to these events,
where everyone’s dressed up,

but I’m not,
I’m there in jeans and a t-shirt,
thanking those that are thanking me for writing these prophecies,
but really I’m not sure what all this work was or is really worth…

still I put in work,
verse after verse,
cliche and cliche,
the Gift & The Curse,

like somehow,
I’ll be able to write all our wrongs,
answer all the questions,
and celebrate with sounds,

make Love and make Mysteries,
with a Stranger in a Strange Town,
and I’ve been up till way too Late:30 lately,
too tired to debate or hesitate when it’s time to get down,

down,
here,
the sky looks so beautiful,
the clouds,
from the ground,
are everything I choose to show,

so,
whatever,
what more can we say,
let’s go,
wherever,
‘cause when we've got it all the only thing we want to get is away,

want for nothing else,
it’s Close Enough to Sunday,
let’s take some time to take some time,
no need to go right now ‘cause we all go one way or another one day,

soon,

so,
so what,
so,
we’re fckt,

it’s all fckt up,
can’t even pretend that it’s not,
I get invited out to these events,
where everyone’s dressed up,

but I’m not,
I’m there in jeans and a t-shirt,
thanking those that are thanking me for writing these prophecies,
but really I’m not sure what all this work was or is really worth…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Arcassin B Feb 2017
By Arcassin Burnham

I don't really count my blessings
If I did,
I'd keep a notepad,
I haven't really learned my lessons
If I did
I'd be on the right path,
Or a bunch of outskirts pushing and landing
In my way and putting voices in my head to
Help me take away the pain of feeling the
Pressure to move forward in my life and
Better myself in this cruel and sick twisted
Planet where there are all false teaches,
No more fake speeches,
No more stars in the sky for people's reaches,
No more fun or sunshine
For the people that get stepped on and
Ridiculed,
No more keeping folks in line for all these
Stupid rules,
Things have been getting real vacant
leaving my life to struggle,
I will not die a coward.

/

I've been on my own since the day
has gone
all my friends are gone
I'm just still at home
of course I'm all alone
I'm just waiting on......
the right day
I've been on my own since the day has gone
the skies are red
I'm feeling dead,
but I wanna die the right way
with something lodged in my head
I've been on my own.
©abpoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/02/real-vacant-my-own.html
Ron Gavalik Dec 2016
In our youths
Sundays were dreaded
We mourned the death
of weekends
Now, on Sundays
we reflect, quiet
on the continual
struggle
Quick thought.
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