I love her more than myself.
She keeps me humane.

Poetictunes Apr 16

Love will break the hardest brother down to his knees.

JAC Apr 13

Today I saw a man
Deleting photos of himself and a woman
From his phone
He was a very large man
Strong, it was clear
But his fingers shook.

At night she buries herself six feet below the ground
and she paints her face with a smile every morning.
Her mascara is waterproof and her shaking hands
buried deep inside the pockets of a beautiful coat
while she tells exciting tales of sorbet happiness.

She is a conundrum, weaves lies from silver thread
and hides behind red lipstick smiles over coffee cups.
She whispers false promises to you and herself
between Egyptian cotton sheets, skin illuminated
by the glow of the sun rising behind a high-rise.

This girl is careless but made of glass, and her eyes
catch every word you say, and carry it along, but
her words are not those you preserve in your heart.
She bursts into flames in the middle of an ocean;
she will never be anyone’s to take, or understand.

JR Rhine Apr 13

Woman at diner who knew Fugazi,
I wear all these pins
on my denim jacket
waiting for someone like you
because a t-shirt isn’t
loud enough.

Woman who knew Fugazi,
waitress at diner,
had “seen them twenty times,”
without exaggeration—

with cracking olive skin
and graying curly black
hair to her shoulders,

the light refracting off my pin
my friend bought at a record store
in Philly      reflecting her the image
of a slender, voluptuous youth
donned in fake leather
worn Levis and beat Vans

shaking her mop of jet-black curly hair
in a throng of like-minded dressed
individuals in a dingy club
          angsty Washingtonians
fleeing the Reagan Youth

mad at Capitalism
mad at Middle Class,
mad at Excess, Abuse, Malaise—
driven by the furious punk rhythms
of sweat-drenched Fugazi.

Woman who knew Fugazi,
friends with Ian MacKaye,
hadn’t seen him in years—

waitress at restaurant
where the scrambled eggs are dry
and the coffee is stale.

Waitress at diner,
Mother now,
wife, adult,

                 [[punk]]
at heart.

Julie Grenness Apr 12

Spring is a young woman,
Friend to every human,
Laughing, sunny, warm, shining,
Green and floral, beguiling,
Happy scented days of smiling,
Light blues skies, breezing,
The world is softly loving in Spring,
Like a young woman for cuddling......

Feedback welcome.
Sanjna Manoj Apr 10

I am told what to do, based on who I am.

I should always stay strong,
Keep my pride in mind,
My strength is my power,
I am an elephant.

I should never show fear,
Claws are to hurt,
Never run away,
I am a lion.

I am cunning,
Of course I taunted her,
My thoughts are always in one direction,
I am a wolf.

I can't be weak,
I can't be hurt,
I can't be the prey,
I am a vulture

I shouldn't complain,
I shouldn't cry,
I shouldn't give up,
I am a man.

Dont's manscriminate!!

chalk outline
seperation Of cigarette ashes

wet tar, broken glass.
wine stained wedding dress
Playing paper towel commercial
Soaks up all the rosey in her cheeks

When the thud was heard for miles
She didn't kill herself.
Simply tossed her dress
out the hotel window.
at a crime scene

It was some other asshole
Who covered it with caution tape.

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