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 Mar 2019 Patterson
Lemon
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Time goes by
And I miss you

Just like me
The flowers grew
But soon they wilted
Just like you

You were sweet
This I knew
Like an addiction
I loved you

Now the roses are dead
The violets are too
The garden's all gone
And so are you

Your flowers died
I did too
Because all along
I was you
I wrote this a while ago when I had a crush on someone and it was literally crushing me. This is pretty metaphorical, but it also has a bit of literal meaning. It's a mixture of my feelings towards the person I liked and how I felt towards myself at the time.
 Mar 2019 Patterson
Ann
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  to is what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"Keep your eyes closed, love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do."

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
 Mar 2019 Patterson
MicMag
Viral
 Mar 2019 Patterson
MicMag
What's it take
These days

To write a poem

That makes the world go mad
That brings the crowds to their feet
That spreads like wildfire
Through a dry winter forest

Is it those excessively long words?
The ostentatiously loquacious
Platitudinous ramblings
Of an insecure mind aspiring
To authentic intellect?

Is it perhaps...
     the "creativity"
               of      varied      spacing
  or...    could it be..... the lack
                              of capitalization
               the loathsome little letters
               screaming out
                         hey, look at us!
         ... or maybe it's
               the punctuation marks,
     littered, haphazardly
          through the text
                    (whether used correctly)
               or, theyre not?!
     despite worrds mispeled
          and a grammar might is broken
   can these gimmicks increase interest
        though miswritten or misspoken?

Is the trick alliteration
Whose bite brightly bids us
To center on the snappy sounds?
Although all along
     unvoiced underneath
Ideas idle in the isles
   (or perhaps the aisles)
Of the mind
To meld and craft and bind
Our thorough thoughts
And worthy words
Into lines
Which
Heard by herds
Raise the
                  Praise for which we
                  Privately, desperately
                  Pray

Maybe it's a magical mix
Of splendid in-your-head rhythm
Marvelous meter that perfectly clicks
Flowing smoothly without schism

Well-spaced stanzas
Well-used time
Well-crafted phrases
Well-thought-out rhymes

Well, maybe not...
     those gems are often ignored
     cast-aside, unread, even abhorred

Why?

Because the modern world
doesn't need your rules
your restrictions
your regulations
your misguided boundaries
your oppression
your antiquated ideas
   of "the right way"
   to write
   to speak
   to act
   to live
   to (fill in the blank)

No, what the modern world needs
is
Negation!
Contradiction!
Resistance!
Revolt!

And poetry whose words
Say the same thing
Repeat the same meaning
Echo the same lyrics
Rephrase the same thoughts
But in an ever-so-slightly
Different
Varied
Altered
Adjusted
Changed up way

Line
After line
Of synonyms
          over
               and
                    over
                         and
                              over
                                   again

-----

What's it take
These days

To not give in
To narcissism's spiral?

But more importantly:
What's it take

To make my poem go viral?
Only halfway cynically written, I swear!
 Mar 2019 Patterson
sandra wyllie
I dart in and out of, divided by
the painted lines. There’re the fast ones
and the slow ones, depending on the
time. Did you ever feel like you’ve been dumped

here, in the middle of a traffic jam? Do you
feel like you don’t make a difference?  I want to be
an airplane, high above it all. When I look out
my window people are ants I could squash

beneath my feet. Every step a moving street. I’ve been run
over many times. Tire tracks left these impressions.
Wonder what you would get if you connected
the lines. Maybe a constellation. I’m the unnamed star.
 Mar 2019 Patterson
Katie
no name
 Mar 2019 Patterson
Katie
i am forgotten memories:

smell of the milk
gone sour
in the back of the
bottom shelf of the
fridge.

sound like the muffled cries
and broken screams
drowned out by the
newest- catchy
radio 'bop'.

feel of the fingernails
and rusty scissor blades
in far left desk-drawer
on skin.

look like the purple
bags on pale skin,
clenched teeth,
red knuckles.

i do not know my name,
it is better this way.
 Mar 2019 Patterson
Jon York
I write because I hurt,
I write because
I'd rather not bleed.
                                                                                          Jon York    2019

— The End —