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S S Nathan Dec 2017
It's been six long years . . .
So I know . . . I think I know most of you . . . generally.
Do I know what I'm doing? . . . Should I know?
Was I too vulnerable? . . . Am I still?
Did I break some walls? . . . Were those yours or mine?
Probably mine . . .
Do you remember this conversation?
- " Wait. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
- " Ye-es . . . I wish I hadn't spoken."
- " I'm going to pretend you never did."
Because that is the cousin of what we had . . .
Or . . . do you even remember that?

Now Lucifer wants me to keep holding on when
Michael is telling me to let go . . .
And currently, it's hard to listen to the archangel
. . . because I still have the memories . . .
. . . because I'm still dreaming of that one little flamboyant dream I once had . . .
. . . because it wasn't six long weeks.
Because it was six years.
I wished all the clocks have stopped
So I could enjoy my youth
With no burden or responsibilities
For me to think my actions through
Time never seems to wait
I felt the years have just gone by
I felt my body slowly getting weaker
In a blink of an eye
Soon my skin would be wrinkled
And my hair would turn white
Soon life will leave this body
And all it would be is just a memory
Time is a friend and an enemy
mint Dec 2017
it’s our anniversary babe
how long has it been now?
let me count
well i think after this week it’ll be three years
three years ago
you went inside my body coursed through the blood inside me and ripped me apart
three years ago you took a thoughtful moment to pick through my organs with your greedy hands
squeezing
caressing
you wrapped one hand around my throat and the other you stuffed down it
i could feel the ice from your fingertips in my stomach
you did it so good babe
killed me so good
i cant get the feeling out of my head
even after three years
i guess your just special
kiss my lips babe feel how cold they are just like yours
your kiss hasn’t faded away yet its there
lingering on my skin
burning it off with its freezing ripping cold
i’d let you finish the job you left too early three years ago
touched me all over and then left in the morning
finish ripping apart my seams
the threads are still whole
not broken
they’ve been barely keeping me together these past three years
i haven’t flicked a knife against them for so long
but the damage is done
the threads have become thinner
all you have to do is touch me again
you’d hear them snap
one by one
your job will be done
three year anniversary and i have so much to say to you
i think of what you’ve done to me
how you’ve never left my side since that night
that night in particular though
was just special
i’ll never forget it
the scars of what you’ve done still mar my mind
the scars of what i’ve done to myself
although inspired by you
mar my skin
this year i want so badly to let you take me again
**** me again except do it better this time
take it all the way like you didn’t last time
i have no reason to live anyway
let me follow your cold burning kiss into darkness please

deep down i know you wont do it though
your grip on me has slipped you’ve lost interest
just like everyone else
you took my will to live and then cruelly gave it back
and now i’m just stuck trying to make it better
never forgetting the taste you left in my mouth
on my skin
like chocolate but bitter and poisonous

happy three year anniversary you ruined my life



i’ll never forgive you babe
you wont even kiss me again babe

goodbye until next year



love, me
He is The Sun
I am The river

As apart as chalk and cheese
I am the chalk
He is the cheese
Yet with each other
Always at ease

He is The Sun
With directions fixed
Friends,
A rock solid, famous five
Since age five

I am The River
Ever flowing Boundless
Friends I have many
Maybe countless

He is my
Soul mate
Best friend
Gift for life

He is The Sun
I am The River
Today we complete 14 years (21/11)
Re: Thank You to unknown
   tom, ****, harry, tam, dame,
   or dana from the MHS Class of 77,
   though this alum
experiences public education
   within lower providence jurisdiction

as a ***
er - minimally partaking advantage
   of extra-curricular,
   collegiate, inter-mural,
   et cetera opportunities,

   no not even a figurative crum
well nigh convey an impression of being dumb
bull door, deaf, and blind (with out faith no more),

   nor passing love notes from
some anonymous girl, who
   (after leaving a teasing message
   informed asper getting a smart haircut

   in ninth grade civics class
   taught by Missus Comly
   (do not quote me on my
   power fully pointed excel lent spelling,
   telling nothing, when out of desperation
   I experience primal yelling)
this singular potential fledgling flirtation,

   the extent from student,
   who appeared morose and rather glum
exposing such vulnerability to be hum
millie hated, and bullied relentlessly,

   whereat i wish to be a little boy
   comforted by me mum
since that option out of the question,
   thus aye didst never meet Miss Mot Toe
   (e plumbs e num), perhaps cuz eye **** numb

body, mind and spirit triage as if inebriated by ***
imagining the fighting spirit within me to thumb
or rather "flip the bird" to those,
   this then anxiety prone

   metaphorically rolling stone
whose metaphorical diet of worms also included
   eating picked over sun bleached
   un beak coming road **** crow - how yum

me does that seem, but gnome hatter
   how grossly said foul dish
   spurred via carrion (an analogy
   representing verbal taunting

   best left for hitch cocked birds) didst not appeal
not in the least did i give nasty brutes a "what for",
twas fear of getting creamed, fricasseed, irradiated...

   sans to stand proud and tall
   (all five and a half feet, but blunted maximum height
   topped off just shy of seventy inches -
   in reference to yours truly) against bullies

to this very day such emotional repercussions congeal
asper anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, panic...,
   which physiological symptoms served psyche not to feel
and only of late (particularly with daily intake of about
   a half doe zen pharmacological prescription medications

   do check and induce schizoid personality disorder
   (the diagnosis encompassing,
   the gamut mental health issues) to heel
akin to a well trained service dog, which fractured

   psychological state i.e. garrison to pitch and toss
   upon the precarious tipping point i.e.
   surpassing the tipping point,
   where thy body electric doth keel,

which precarious state finds me socially awkward,
   and off kilter, and maybe this chap
   ought to take a page
   from professional athletes playbook,
   and take a knee qua to kneel

hence this improvisational explanation
   why yours truly felt discombobulated
   to attend the recently held reunion,
   now aye wanna axe something serious, and fur real,

which essentially constitutes whether
   a current list of 1977 students,
   who received their high school diploma
   could be sent to me, whereby at least one alumni
   could buffer end this contemplative, intuitive,
   and pence eave bowl dish guttersnipe wannabe with zeal.

hie haint gonna hold ma breath,
   neither let loose lips help miss ink moll itty bitty sinker agog
   nor wait fir any religious chief such as allah
boot nothing ventured...blah...blah...blog...blog...

adieu - - matthew scott harris
Re: Thank You to unknown
   tom, ****, harry, tam, dame,
   or dana from the MHS Class of 77,
   though this alum
experiences public education
   within lower providence jurisdiction

as a ***
er - minimally partaking advantage
   of extra-curricular,
   collegiate, inter-mural,
   et cetera opportunities,

   no not even a figurative crum
well nigh convey an impression of being dumb
bull door, deaf, and blind (with out faith no more),

   nor passing love notes from
some anonymous girl, who
   (after leaving a teasing message
   informed asper getting a smart haircut

   in ninth grade civics class
   taught by Missus Comly
   (do not quote me on my
   power fully pointed excel lent spelling,
   telling nothing, when out of desperation
   I experience primal yelling)
this singular potential fledgling flirtation,

   the extent from student,
   who appeared morose and rather glum
exposing such vulnerability to be hum
millie hated, and bullied relentlessly,

   whereat i wish to be a little boy
   comforted by me mum
since that option out of the question,
   thus aye didst never meet Miss Mot Toe
   (e plumbs e num), perhaps cuz eye **** numb

body, mind and spirit triage as if inebriated by ***
imagining the fighting spirit within me to thumb
or rather "flip the bird" to those,
   this then anxiety prone

   metaphorically rolling stone
whose metaphorical diet of worms also included
   eating picked over sun bleached
   un beak coming road **** crow - how yum

me does that seem, but gnome hatter
   how grossly said foul dish
   spurred via carrion (an analogy
   representing verbal taunting

   best left for hitch cocked birds) didst not appeal
not in the least did i give nasty brutes a "what for",
twas fear of getting creamed, fricasseed, irradiated...

   sans to stand proud and tall
   (all five and a half feet, but blunted maximum height
   topped off just shy of seventy inches -
   in reference to yours truly) against bullies

to this very day such emotional repercussions congeal
asper anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, panic...,
   which physiological symptoms served psyche not to feel
and only of late (particularly with daily intake of about
   a half doe zen pharmacological prescription medications

   do check and induce schizoid personality disorder
   (the diagnosis encompassing,
   the gamut mental health issues) to heel
akin to a well trained service dog, which fractured

   psychological state i.e. garrison to pitch and toss
   upon the precarious tipping point i.e.
   surpassing the tipping point,
   where thy body electric doth keel,

which precarious state finds me socially awkward,
   and off kilter, and maybe this chap
   ought to take a page
   from professional athletes playbook,
   and take a knee qua to kneel

hence this improvisational explanation
   why yours truly felt discombobulated
   to attend the recently held reunion,
   now aye wanna axe something serious, and fur real,

which essentially constitutes whether
   a current list of 1977 students,
   who received their high school diploma
   could be sent to me, whereby at least one alumni
   could buffer end this contemplative, intuitive,
   and pence eave guttersnipe wannabe with zeal.

hie haint gonna hold ma breath,
   nor wait fir any religious chief such as allah
boot nothing ventured...blah...blah...blog...blog...

adieu - - matthew scott harris
REDACTED Nov 2017
You need a break from society,
So come and sit with me,
Make sure to enjoy your tea.

I've been hard at work fighting for your country,
So come and sit with me,
Make sure to enjoy your tea.

After 200 years of war,
You're finally free,
So make to enjoy your tea.

Whilst you was gone,
I've waited patiently,
Just to make you a cup of tea.

I love you,
So much I've waited nervously,
So enjoy MY cup of tea I made for you.

I'm so proud of you...

Love, [REDACTED] .
A poem about a soldier returning home to his Wife's first tea in 200 years.
G Rog Rogers Nov 2017
-Lyrix
Country Music Tune

After all the years
I called her Baby
Never could have dreamed
She would betray me

After all the years
She called me Darling
She was gone and left
without a warning

Leaving after She
spent Our life savings
Now my Baby's been
having her troubles lately

So still and on I go
to those places
We might have
together been
If she had then
stayed true
The way she was
when We began

I remember when
She was there
to save me
From the start
She was my
precious lady

I've been on
my own awhile
But I been learning
I'm still the same
but more determined

Still so and on I go
On the open road
alone again
If only she had
then stayed true
The way she was
when We began

After all the years
I Called her Baby
After all the years
She called me Darling

Never could have dreamed
She would betray me
Gone and left
without a warning.

-R.

(11.13.17)
-LA
-4MAR
©ASGP
Aleeza Nov 2017
abandoned flower fields and the lazy afternoon sun
our footsteps falling into a steady rhythm
we are almost like music in this place of lost
and neither of us seem to remember

my fingers touch the edges of your hand
trying to establish a connection that I have long craved
and normally it is not okay
but this time you let mine fit in the spaces between yours

we find a place of solace and dry grass
you are a mere inches away but I am still afraid
still afraid of what this is
still unsure of what it may be

we’re both a little tipsy, I must admit
you lie down on the ground and count the grooves in my spine
and I try to think of something to say
but  all my years of words have failed me now

is it okay?
are we really okay?
because it has been a while
and a lot of things have changed
but I still don’t know if we are right

all they have said is that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be
this isn’t how things line up in their world
but we have a world of our own
and I would give anything to be entangled in it

this is the only time we can really escape
from the stares that will judge who we are
from the expectations that we never plan to meet
this is the only time that I can belong to you.
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