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Ken Pepiton Jun 13
Polite conversation, versation

passive voice of conversare,
literally "to turn round with,"

run along with, become
associated within determined

pleas… many askings
if it please the crown,
with mastering mind's mission

usual suspicion, sneaking from
under stood stones been up holding

all we are allowed to learn by law of sin.

For we are in the only atmosphere in ever,
now, where we are acidifiable in base time,

converted using sublimation, suggesting,

sub certain chthonic sense, a shiver,
a quake in fracking joined terranes, uplifted

as the staked plains in Texas,
and the Mogollon Rim, in Arizona, as seen
using augmented eyes, we wise, we see

we have seen farther than any actual doer,
of the process, form and function as a one off,

once through the wringer, then stretched
on real tenter's hooks to dry and bleach,
to sun bright white, crystaline face stretching

feeling joker urge, make a
mind chuckle, think it through to a what if,
in no time at all,
imagine all we know is, was
not made as we may think we might
have, in essence, in us, as we think
we might have the exact same key
fit the exact same lock on instants,

timeless instants we may play
instant answering application tuning - mind time spanning willedness
Jeremy Betts May 21
Wether recorded digitally or with a pen
With or without hitting send
Questioning the subject matter, real or pretend?
They're all just thoughts that don't bend
The only ones I have over and over again
Not even hinting at an end

anotherdream May 12
Should I call myself a traitor
For not honoring my needs
When I fall for you again
When I'm struggling to breathe

In the pool of old regrets
I'm still asking what it means
As I'm sinking to the floor
As I'm drowning to be free

I lament my current ignorance
For forgetting certain things
Like when I lay down in the dirt
From admitting our defeat

There's no basis for return
If you're always in my dreams
I had finally let you go
Until I ruined everything

I shouldn't play with fire
When my heart is made of weeds
But I was so desperate for attention
And the comfort it can bring

So I'll call myself a traitor
Cause I'm only hurting me
When I'm crawling back to you
And am on my hands and knees
In this poem I lament getting back with the girl who caused me so much heartache. It's as if all my effort into moving on from her and recovering was for nothing, because as soon as I talked to her again, I fell right back to square one. After the fact, I have adjusted and just keep my distance but in that moment, I had much regret of communicating with her after years of pain.
Àŧùl May 9
People are not nice,
They can dishearten you,
But don't be like mice.

Let me tell you a story,
My story of victory,
It's after the accident.

When I was in the ICU,
Thought I won't be consequential,
But I disappointed them.

This young man is alive,
An ex-SBI PO, now a DRAAO,
Oh I worked hard for it.

Did not I, oh life,
I don't play the fife,
You know, right?

Now I talk to you,
Yes, you, the dejected one,
Now I ask you this:

Being a survivor,
If I can be successful,
Why cannot you?
Life-Threatening Coma-Inducing Bike Accident: May 7, 2010
Awoke From The Comatose State: June 1, 2010
Discharged From The Hospital: June 18, 2010
Lost academic time: 5 years
Lost physical capabilities: Can't play my guitar as nicely as I used to, stammer at times, limp a bit, difficulty in balancing myself, memory problems

But I didn't give up on life. I knew that I can do it.

People who saw my mangled state in the ICU and HDU, they suggested my parents to look after me for the rest of their lives. They suggested my parents to get me enrolled in an easier vocational course to weave baskets or sell newspapers.
They disheartened my mother, who in turn thought that I could not do what others can.
But my father always has had full faith in my capabilities and capacities.
I not only completed my Bachelor of Technology degree in Biotechnology from the Maharishi Dayanand University, Rohtak, but also I went on to complete a postgraduate degree (M.Tech) in Animal Biotechnology from the ICAR-National Dairy Research Institute, Karnal.

And now I have done it.

Professional Success 1 (SBI PO): July 4, 2023
Professional Success 2 (C&AG AAuO): March 12, 2024

My HP Poem #1968
©Atul Kaushal
Her body pulls weight with ease
Ask mountains if they are displeased
Question clouds drifting in the sky
What is orbit's watchful eye?
Have spun circles too long
Dizzy as current moves us along
Communicating inexact words
Sentences sometimes are outright absurd
Kissing off-target
Inaccurate aim
An impressive meaningless game
Expressing inner thoughts strictly forbidden
Settles now
What's hidden?
Unapproachable horizon
From the past learn abuse is alright
Understand sea and it's secret depths
Neither decide
Desire to descend it's steps
For indignity she avoids at all costs
Collisions difficult tempt and accost
Start anew
Wiping slate clean
The "we" discovered that lies between
Ever so gently make change
Offered affection usually exchanged
On her own battles pain
Heart will survive because love remains
A returning circuit all burned out
Body will live
Written 2-8-21
Robin Carretti Jul 2023
She surrenders her joys
A-line highway what ploys
Per- day 2 B or not to Be
  B for breakaway
Windy- seaway everyday
endless living
Stay to the right tossing skirt

Gossip throwing unwanted dirt
Smoky bear mountain no harm
  Losing one valuable gift charm
   His name in honor
   feeling complete
  Highway for justice and absolute
   The right way

    Aroma apple pie putting on
       Your husbands
      Graphic artist highway- tie
      How many people on the highway

       Never to confess and lie
      Highway doesn't have any privacy
True saint of shrubbery mountain tops
       curved figure highways
    Reckless cliffs skirt ruffles love
      feeling rammed
       Turn of the century traffic jammed
  Your skirt flew up like wild goose chase

  You rather of went Big- City marathon
    bike race
By- way time -may be- silent have
nothing to say?
Performance piano Steinway
Skirt highway waving flag winning everyday*
Your skirt drenched rooftop concerts

Nest of Blue Jays no highway
Serenity sky draw the deviant
But words can heal even on a highway
My lips are sealed?
Highway to the sky there is no limits what we can do  I love my birds we all have magical talent high up on a rooftop or below Highway you can determine the world is a show
Nat Lipstadt May 2023
loitering with intent

a man stands on the corner,
in fashion most furtive, shifting
foot to foot, noting each passerby,
he retains, discards, sifting flour
for flowers, wheat chaff for pastries,
word streams for treasured heated floes

why this corner, why this point?


Hear is where.

Hear is where the poems gems
can be panned, nuggets retrieved,
smiles and grimaces projected,
laughter & tears mixology’d,
humanity, his, restored,
inspired life, restored,
for all.

<2:54 PM Weds May 10>
NYC, and whoever you are…
Lucius Furius Dec 2021
When the cold seeps through your skin,
thinking how many times you've walked here alone
when you might have been lying in the arms of lovers,
warm and comforting,
don't sit there shivering.
You weren't meant for those chains.
You were meant to rise on cool mornings
and swim in deep, clear ponds,
to walk along mountains
and stand at the edges of cliffs,
to gaze at stars --
drawing strength from their fiery motion.
Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem: .
This poem is part of the Scraps of Faith collection of poems ( )
Påłpëbŕå Apr 2021
Guys don't like
girls like me
pretty to the eyes
with insides ugly
a past so aghast
a mind so contrast
a tongue so sharp
a mess of shards
all I'll be
is me
and me being me
isn't ****
I'm repulsive
I'm impulsive
I'm not impressive
but very expressive,
some days I'm cold
some days I do what I'm told
some days I give you the fight of your life
some days I wish for you to make me your wife,
guys don't like
girls like me
chained to my fears
appearing to be free
I can smile in my pain
then cry in my regrets
keeping my heat safe
I'll love you in my brain,
all I wish is for
a guy like me
to like me
for who I am
and not what
he wants me to be
a chance, a risk, a gamble
a love story in shambles.
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