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rig Feb 2020
25
tower of oceans,
bug golden thriller,
blue denim body,
cinnamon lemon,
and old birthday rain.
May 22, 2016

Toes warming up
You are waking up to
The fact that your house
Is on fire

No escape
Your eyes awake to
See flames covering the door
The only way out of the
Master bedroom

.....
Skip Scene
.....

You open your eyes
Jesus Christ!

Is before you a Man
Like no other!!

Glowing White

White robes
White skin
White teeth

He smiles
Like he
Has been
Waiting
For
Forever

Just For You

You think you must be in shock

But if you were in shock...
Why am I moving?
Is this a
Dream?

I pinch
Myself

But he's still
There smiling at me
Ouch I think

I notice that I am swaying
Back and forth
Back
Forth
Back
And then it
Changes into a four step 1,2,3,4

1,2,3,4
1,
2,
3,
4
1,2,3,4

Am I cha-cha-ing
Right now?
Jesus Christ!!

Is watching me!
So I make sure to put on
A good show

Fortnite dances
Come to mind
I floss

Floss like no one is watching
Jesus is watching
But I dance like there is no one

Breaking down now
I get on my knees

My stomach
I lay
Prostrate
On the
Ground now

I wriggle
Like a worm
A worm like no other

Now
Spinning
Now

I don't remember
Dancing
Like this before

When
I was alive...

I must
Be
Dead

Now

Only an angel could
Dance the way
I twerked
Then
A bit
For Jesus
Not too much
We don't want him to

Get any wrong impressions
About who we are
Or who we were
We don't give
Our-self
Away

Not for free
Anymore
No free
Lunches
Or free dances

The only thing
Free is salvation
I guess cause I thought
I was going to Hell
Before

I start to shimmy now
Shaking our money
Makers
Like an
Anaconda we got
Back and we know it

We give Him
Everything

All That We Have

Then...

We turn away...

Facing the stairway downwards
We take two steps down
Towards Hell

We don't want to worry Jesus
But we do really
Like to make men sweat

Just
A little bit

And then we bend like
We dropped a
Coin
Pick
That up I'm
Wearing a robe too now!

Feels like a dress I let my
Legs show for Jesus
Ankles to the knees I show

Skin
White
Skin

These robes are nice
But I know my Jesus likes
My skin and bones
More than any old rags

Here it comes
I feel myself
Backing up

Beep
Beep
Beep

Oh no! This is no dream
This is a real
Nightmare

I back up and back
Up until I'm
Grinding
On Jesus or
He's grinding on me

Facing hell I don't
Even know His reaction
Is anymore?

Wait what has His
Reaction been this whole time?
missy brown Apr 2019
This is just to say
when i gave you that poem
I had no inkling

Of what was to come -
all the pain awaiting us
The ancestral sin

Temptation, assured
We were manicured, shared prose
Dog-hungry for plums.
None of us are without guilt or sin
A T Bockholdt Dec 2017
Jorge

still in the night he
does not remember why
—sounds of her sighs

her small ears
pressing into the tight
space of the day

or the tenderness between
him and her
held in the air

the repeated denial
of the time set chained  
to hold their plans

were revolting against
trysts
spent in another’s gaze

2. Sebastian

the tenacious sense in
arrangement
lets slip imitation

how I could possess
your breath
and bear it

delicately freeing
my stances
I strained

in celebration
at the sanctification
that you’d
granted to Saint Sebastian
in Irene’s
blessing

will healing hands make
poetry
or trap the shaking  

of my languid silver pens  
taut but not
ready

3. Carlos

the sweet words
brought
for the lovers

that beats hard
each
hesitance

leaps
without fear
regarding

that
their time is
now here

the shape that
your
sighs take

suggesting
as if
limits don’t exist
This is part of collection for a senior portfolio project at CU Denver
Project is intended to represent the stylistic distinctions of great American poets through the imitation of their poetics and/or their subject matter

In this three section poem, "Enacting Imitation," I work to closely mirror William Carlos Williams poem "3 Stances." Williams uses enjambment to subtly infuse multiple meanings into his sparse lines. Williams poetry also enacts a metaphysical level that allows the reader to see the poet's space of thinking and anxieties in writing which we see in "Danse Russe," wherein Williams finds freedom in writing for himself. I also use his ideas of the variable foot to employ certain rhythmic tones and speeds into this imitation.
tumelo mogomotsi Jun 2017
sometimes happiness
doesn't smile
sometimes the face
of happiness is a
cry for help

sometimes laughter
is the soundtrack
to pain
sometimes a joker
is in fact going insane

sometimes your idols
are more then idols
sometimes idols are
just human
sometimes your idols
are more then idols
sometimes idols are
just human

- t.m
Joe Thompson Oct 2016
You ate them?
You ate the ******* plums
that were in the fridge?
God, you're a selfish *******.
Trupoetry Jun 2016
Of course you believe in magic.
What you pull from your hat is far from the tricks of a rabbit.
You've made being aware the least of your bad habits.
There is a light in your eyes.
A fiery summer sky.
One worth wishing upon the stars of your mind.
A galaxy worth marveling at beyond these times.
It takes courage to be strong; thank you for being courageous.
You are the example of what our ancestors wanted for us.
I hope you continue on with the spirit of change & may God see you through!
You're a King; a good thing & we need more like you!
Jesse your message was powerful and well received. Thank you for being you!
Cat Fiske May 2015
And he wanted to join,
"the living poets society,"
because it was a club I was in,
and he wanted to hear my poems at my own will,
and write some of his own,
And he wanted to do it,
so he could get close to me,

*But isn't that one thing they argued about,
in the movie?
Just something I talked to my sweet about last night
Mike Essig May 2015
Love**

Love is twain, it is not single,
Gold and silver mixed to one,
Passion ‘tis and pain which mingle
Glist'ring then for aye undone.

Pain it is not; wondering pity
Dies or e'er the pang is fled;
Passion ‘tis not, foul and gritty,
Born one instant, instant dead.

Love is twain, it is not single,
Gold and silver mixed to one,
Passion ‘tis and pain which mingle
Glist'ring then for aye undone.
Mike Essig May 2015
Arrival**

And yet one arrives somehow,
finds himself loosening the hooks of
her dress
in a strange bedroom--
feels the autumn
dropping its silk and linen leaves
about her ankles.
The ****** veined body emerges
twisted upon itself
like a winter wind . . . !
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