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  Jul 2017 r m
Ricky
I break promises
So for your own sake do not
Put your trust in me
I apologize
  Jul 2017 r m
Lawrence Hall
After Their Divorce

In his garage he takes a break, and sits
Among all the mechanical debris
Of an inventor born a century late:
Unsorted hopes, tools, dreams, and engine parts

The project car that he and his son will never
Rebuild together on Sunday afternoons
An old guitar, an ashtray full of ends
A midden of beer cans crushed in memories

He should be loading his truck and trailer, but
In his garage, in bitterness, he waits
r m Jul 2017
your obsession with blackholes made me wish i was one
like the way i once wished i am math and science
oh, what a geek you are!

(to make me compete with these things for your attention)
"you in less than fifty words" is a series of one-sided poetic snippets.
r m Jul 2017
I.
i opened the cabinet at the basement and my gasp was trapped in my throat

in front of me unfold universes in the form of mountains layer by layer in stacks of paper.

II.
undone were the buttons of my blouse and my gasp was trapped in my throat because she's here

and i needed to build another universe; another escape route; another layer of another mountain.

III.
spread were my legs at the study desk of the classroom and my gasp was trapped in my throat because she said i need to be quiet or else they'd hear

and i needed to focus myself to the time it will be over, at the clock ticking after-class minutes, i prayed for timeskips.

IV.
after dinner, open arms, my mother asked what i wanted for my birthday

and i needed the comforts of the words "safe" and "no more touching," of the promise of "no more after-class sessions" but i just told her i wanted another notebook for my stories.
my poems are available at my wattpad account, ventricles.
an online digital collection will be available at issuu on october 2017.
r m Jul 2017
if i remember correctly,
you wrote a manual on how to swim
in this sea of disappointments

wading my way on above-me water *****
the energy, the life, the sureness out of me
**** this pressure everyone puts around me

i am naked under currents; don't peak
the water had been dyed pitch black now
the color of doubts

in their eyes they stitch words on my skin
capital letters p, e, r, f, e, c, and t
they decorate me like a diy existence

if i remember correctly,
you wrote a manual on how to drown suffocating-deep into one's sweetest dream
give it to me now
my poems are available at my wattpad account, ventricles.
an online digital collection will be available at issuu on october 2017.
r m Jul 2017
there was bravery in her song
and invisible beats were composed of tugging heartstrings
and hopeful rests blending well at that octave, note after note.

there was magic when the writer got lost in his own story
navigating there, making mistakes, being more human than god in contrast to others who had journals of do's and don'ts.

there was something positive whenever i wake up each day and face the battle
of standing up, being alive and practically living life
positive whenever i say no to backing down and giving up

in her song
in his words
and in my every waking moment
there's life and humanity and mistakes and it's all right
my poems are available at my wattpad account, ventricles.
an online digital collection will be available at issuu on october 2017.
r m Jul 2017
the speed of a falling raindrop
is 32 feet per second
it's something constant
i have read about
at the science section
of a worn down daily.

given different conditions
and cloud forms from nimbus
to cumulonimbus
or if there even exist heavier,
darker, sulkier clouds,
then it will remain the same.

raindrops will drop at that speed
like the way cherry blossoms
fall at 5 centimeters per second
as identified by Shinkai
accompanied by that sad story,
sad love song and sad vibrant colors.

i have always expressed
adoration at constants
starting at elementary algebra
when miss hernandez introduced
the concept of non changing
ever the same values
unaffected things
like pi or the gravitional pull
or even the speed of light itself.

i always get to thinking
if constant hearts ever exist
or if it does, for how long?
ever changing had been
a major human quality
so is inconsistence
a constant in the human heart?

the anatomy of a constant heart
is a favorite mind palace of mine
i wander at the highest floor
taking my time to build up what would be
the ideal constancy and perfection to me
a woman of digits, numbers and measures

a paradox of consistent inconsistencies
wrapped around every pumping chamber
smooth muscles embracing the equation
like dialogues of yes's and no's
between tissues and muscles and blood
a focus group discussion of conflicting parallels
my poems are also at wattpad, in the poetry collection titled wild heart.
https://www.wattpad.com/story/114674948-wild-heart
an online digital collection will be available at issuu on october 2017

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