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 Oct 2019 Gyuwon
Nat Lipstadt
Oh Eliot, Poor Eliot, Your Fans Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' So Sad^

<>
we tithed thee with donations plenty,
here a dollar, there a fiver, a coupon for free chips,
worthy of somebody’s eternal gratitude,
that would be you,
da Duke, Duke of York

the largest online free poetry site,
a million visitors a day, why you must be
the richest poet online billionaire, right?
you,
da Duke, Duke of York and

occasional poet...

in return, all we occasional poets demand
steady on instant access, immediate satisfaction,
after all, a part time job deserves your bestus-best,
just like every other large online site, that never crashes,
we’re not like just the rest, we are
p o e t s,
occasionally

so keep the servers engines, well stoked with Newcastle coal,
keep them up and running round the clock,
using only alternative energy,
of the unceasing sun light of merry old England!

quit that other job, you must,
instead of giving up on us,
give in to us,
a poetry break, a writing recharge,
though please add a limited liability
clause to the FAQ’s,
that poets’ lives must deal with the hiccup
occasional

you, da Duke, Duke of York,
newly now, an appointment royale as Major General,^^
you, the very model of a modern major general
possessing information vegetable, animal, mineral and
technical,
who knows the Queens  of England, who,
maybe even now is telling tales of your heroics with the hordes of
hysterical
occasional
poetical
globalists
demanding
light brigadests
charging the redoubt

and
when you have a moment spare,
a haircut, please.

no, that is not a request,
naturally

<>

10/19/19
Noontime NYC
natalino
^^Messers Gilbert and Sullivan

^ Oh Dad, Poor Dad,
Hung You In The Closet and I’m Feeling So Sad
By Arthur Kopit
Jonathan
Well, I made it out of lenses and tubing. The lenses I had because Ma-Ma-Mother gave me a set of lenses so I could see my stamps better. I have a fabulous collection of stamps, as well as a fantastic collection of coins and a simply unbelievable collection of books. Well sir, Ma-Ma-Mother gave me these lenses so I could see my stamps better. She suspected that some were fake so she gave me the lenses so I might be...able to see. You see? Well sir, I happen to have nearly a billion sta-stamps. So far I’ve looked closely at 1,352,769. I’ve discovered three actual fakes! Number 1,352,767 was a fake. Number1,352,768 was a fake, and number 1,352,769 was a fake. They were stuck together. Ma-Mother made me feed them im-mediately to her fly –traps. Well... (He whispers.) one day, when Mother wasn’t looking...that is, when she was out, I heard an air-plane flying...somewhere, far away. And I ran outside to the porch so that JI might see what it looked like. The airplane. With hundreds of people inside it. Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of people. And I thought to myself, if I could just see...if I could just see what they looked like, the people, sitting at their windows looking out...and flying. If I Could see...just once...if I could see just once what they looked like...then I might...know what I-what I... (Slight pause.) So I...built a telescope in case the plane ever...came back again. The tubing from and old blowgun (He reaches behind the bureau and produces a huge blowgun, easily a foot larger than he Mother brought back from her last hunting trip to Zanzibar. The lenses were the lenses she had given me for my stamp. So I built it. My telescope. A telescope so I might be able to see. And... (He walks out to the porch.) and...and I could see! I could! I COULD! I really could. For miles and miles I could see. For miles and miles and miles! Only...
You take the time to build a telescope that can sa-see for miles, then there’s nothing out there to see. MA-Mother says it’s a lesson in Life. [Pause] But I’m not sorry I built my telescope. And you know why? Because, I saw you. Even if I didn’t see anything else, I did see you. And...and I’m...very glad.
Typed by: Jeremy Mash 2-16-06
 Jan 2019 Gyuwon
Fortune maine
LEARN TO FORGIVE


You sought for
revenge

So you joyously
Sliced the onion

Forgetting
It would leave your eyes in tears.


Fortune Maine
Forgiveness
 Jan 2019 Gyuwon
q
unrequited poetry
 Jan 2019 Gyuwon
q
i write everyone
i love
into poetry
how telling it is
that i do not
do the same
for myself
 Mar 2018 Gyuwon
Angelica
Bird
 Mar 2018 Gyuwon
Angelica
The first time she looked up
She fell in love with the sky
Her heart reaching higher
The only answer was to fly

So she made wings of her heart
Carved dreams into feathers
Bid farewell to earth
And fluttered towards ether

But gravity loved her too
Had no intention to let go
Pulled her firmly to the ground
And broke her wings in woe
She's too passionate
and oversensitive
for this messy world -
She doesn't fit-in,
so she tries to stay out.

It's a constant
tug-of-war battle
between her fragile heart
and her delicate mind.
She can't help but feel too much -
peace of mind
is all that she ponders about.

She is gentle,
empathetic and intelligent,
but vulnerable -
she was born this way,

She has relived
this same hopeless feeling
every single blessed day.

She is an overthinker -
always reflecting,
always pensive...

Full of genuine love,
whilst drained by such pain;
she is beautifully oversensitive.

She's always lonely
amongst a crowd,

whilst completely lost
deep inside the belly
of the same-old dark cloud.

She's a beautiful, beautiful mess...

She gives her entirety--nothing less!

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017
 Dec 2017 Gyuwon
Careena
I've reheated the same
Cup of coffee five times
This evening

Trying to write something
For myself that accurately
Describes how I experience

Often I am flooded in the ordinary
By the emotion and the density
Of life itself, in all its majesty

And sometimes I am left
Devoid of sentiment
In moments deemed worthy

I get lost in thinking of
The way the future will
Tangle with the present

I find myself stopped in
A memory as well,
A reminder, a fragment of past

The present is a fleeting concept
A paradox, I think
A circle of thought

At what point
Does the future become the present?
And the present become the past?
 Nov 2017 Gyuwon
Alexander
Shift
 Nov 2017 Gyuwon
Alexander
It’s there,
Where water meets fire,
Where lightings strikes the ground.
That’s where my heartbeat goes.

My chest feels like it was filled
With tampered strings.
Once so sharp and precise,
Now dull and inconsistent.

Mother always asks where my love is.
I tell her it hasn’t moved in years.
Her dumbfound look
Meets my half smile.

How do I lie to a broken mirror?
Where even my reflection is fake.
How do I mute the cannon fire,
Deep within my chest?
 Nov 2017 Gyuwon
Alexandria Hope
Loving me
is a waste
of money
and time
Why don't you
save yourself
for someone
who will love
the way you do
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