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I love you more than him.
It fills me to the brim.
As I lay here,
cuddled in my thoughts.
I scheme up ways,
to add you to my plot.
I just want you as my own,
You're the best feeling
I've ever known.
You're only thing I need.
I'd do anything to have you,
I'd fight,
cry,
and bleed.
But When i try
it's just too heavy,
so I leave my heart behind.
I dream up things
so i trip and fall,
so hard I should be blind.
But by your side,
I would stand,
for there's no better love to find.
You are my dream girl,
the best I could have,
until the end of time.
Cathyy Mar 2016
Would you let me walk you back to school?
And maybe later, teach me how to play pool?..
Oh maybe Friday if you're free,
Play dinosaur mini golf with me?
I know I'm uncool..
But I like who I am when i'm with you

Wont you tell your bro to add me back
Tell him I play guitar too but mostly when I'm sad..
Rock and roll is pretty cool,
And Hip Hop was better when it was old school..
But I write acoustic tunes...
Oh you know I do.

Did you ever get the message that I never sent?
You always said you could read me,
Well did you figure I was upset
When you didn't answer the phone
All these days I've felt alone
Just a little hollow and not okay..
But i'd still be here tomorrow,
Despite yesterday.

Oh I'd still love you tomorrow,
Even if my heart breaks apart today.
v V v Jan 2012
I wanted to see you where the years were kind,
inescapably etched and displayed like
smooth stones spread out on velvet;
but I wouldn't ask. I rummaged through zippers
and heavy things.

On a cool summer night we heard a hiss of
broken stars across the desert sky
and looked up in time to see one pass over head
like a science fiction rocket ship.
It was a moment with you I will never forget.

It's funny how things are settled or settling
and divided by extremes,
jealousy   -   anger   -   hurt   -  houses  -  
etched stones  -  broken stars,
stuff  you  can't  find  words  for,  
stuff  you  wish  y­ou'd  written  down,
words  that  end  up  on  gravestones.

So leave me  with my imagination and your beauty,
maybe some nostalgia as my muse, add one more thing
for sure, make my children our children
not   half - me - half - devil - children
and maybe I wouldn't have to run,
wouldn't have to start a war.

Maybe I could be happy without
your etched stones.

Maybe all I really need is a broken star.
Bea Jul 4
It's composed
In a tiny little block
Add water
And it can't control itself

She's composed
Everything is fine
Until someone adds water
And she can't control herself

Her water is her name
Her water is her past
Her water is the constant reminder
That she didn't tell

Her water is not being able to love you right
Yet
If anything could bring her back together

It's you.
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2013
(Inspired by and dedicated to John Edward Smallshaw, and his "Spice")**


I am a summer-man,
Because I'm blessed to sit by the sea.
Let it and the other two Musketeers,
boon companions to me,
Sun and Wind,
erase my discomposure as I
reside in the Poet's Nookery.
Let them have almost
all that troubles,
but not all.

I am a summer-man.

On the bay, on the beach,
I see birth, I see death,
osprey nests, carcasses of mussels and horseshoe *****.
This, somehow reassuring,
the cycles,
this circularity,
the tides and inevitability.

I am a summer-man.

Student of languages seasonal,
Peaches, plums, cherries, poetry
and loving Woman.^
This, the  summer alphabet-soup of my multiple tongues.

I am a summer-man.

Sancerre and Pinot Gris, super cold,
Paul Simon, Nina Simone, with proper aging,
getting  hotter,
Salsa and Afrikaner hints, super louder,
Even "Still Crazy After All These Years,"
that-who-wud-be-me,
chills outer.^^

I am a summer-man.

When ever this lad's writes appear,
it proves once again,
there is no truth that his  
name was once Dr. Seuss
In a prior life, even if
each is signed by
Ogdiddy Nash

I am a summer-man.

Disrespectful of the calendar,
if I can, try to make
summer season stretch-marks from
May to October.

I would add April,
but the IRS is already ****** at me.^^^

Though the cherry blossoms of May
now gone away,
the lilies of June
arrive, but but for a week or two,
soon, like my mom, withered away.

Acorns in August^^^^ have arrived too swiftly.

This summer, beloved,
and love of summer, deep-rooted.

Season of my Peter Pan Poetry Galore Festival.

A love,  incapable, impossible, of ever
growing old, ever growing cold,
it cannot wither.
It is summer heat reminders exposed,
how it misses its man,
that hide in the flames of
the teasing, popping, reminding
Winter fireplace's crackling pops.
^ See "The Summer Alphabet of Woman (I Speak Woman)"
August 23 2013

^^ See "Made the bed backwards"
August 24 2013

^^^  See "Caesar Has No Authority Over The Grammarians"
August 22 2013

^^^^ See "* Acorns in August (Sonata for Summer Cello and Fall Piano, No. 3)" August 19 2013



* Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel

April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again

June, she´ll change her tune,
In restless walks she´ll prowl the night;
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight.

August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I´ll remember.
A love once new has now grown old
Raffael Nov 2015
Rock and Roll and Rolling Rockers
Her eyes shine like wet graffiti paint
slow motion emotion
showing dubious devotions
You own nothing right now
cause you can't handle anything
Teenage mouths babble
Teenage minds travel
in fast cars driven carelessly
words fly by
Doge
Doge
Don't collide
With a mouth a spitting out words
they add up
pile up
till they become their own little world
you don't won't to hear that
or even see
yet all the time you are wondering
where is a little world for me
Tommy Randell Feb 2017
Gin
I take my gin with tonic in
There's not much else to add
Except a slice of lime
If lemon can't be had

My mother used to take it neat
Her kisses tasted so
That floral, perfumed breath
Before she turned to go

As I put her glass away
I'd run my tongue around the rim
Excited by the bitter taste
The committing of a sin

Or cleaning out the residue
With an extended finger
I'd hold it up beneath my nose
To let her presence linger

It is the strongest memory
She died when I was twelve
And I hid the half-full bottle
High on a wardrobe shelf

Night-times in the lonely dark
I would bring her back to mind
And the scent of gin was a longing
For her to be alive

Eventually the bottled dried
And slowly I forgot
Time and other matters
Healed up all the hurt

But gin is still a trigger
And I never drink it neat
It is an instant vision
Of my Mother's 'little treat'

Her perfume, her wedding ring
Chinking on the glass
Her footsteps as she walked away
Her fading carefree laugh

I take my gin with tonic in
There's not much else to add
Except a slice of lime
If lemon can't be had
A straightforward auto-biographical poem. Memory as narrative. My Mother died on the 20th June 1964 - An un-diagnosed alcoholic and an un-labelled bipolar disorder sufferer in a time when such people were just eccentric or mad or worse.
Andrew Nov 2017
You're an inspirational exciting jolt
Like an invitational lightning bolt
I'm suddenly shocked by the results
When I am blocked by your revolt

You have my beating heart in your hand
Holding me hostage where I silently stand
Staring at your ****** butcher's cleaver
That morphs me into a landlocked ******

You're a two-hander
Like a sledgehammer
Or a radar jammer
I start to stutter and stammer
When I see your weekly planner
And the lack of my presence
Because I'm incessant
You hold a pencil and an eraser
You delete when I become a tracer
And start to draw a better replacer

You hold the scales of justice
Though I claim you're unfit
You say add that to the list
From the throne where you sit
And there's no avenue for any recourse
When your other hand holds so much force
I must deal with your actions
So I can stay in your faction
For my heart's attraction

I am never right
So we never fight
And we never might
Understand each other
When we're taking cover
From exposing vulnerability
An exploding soul is filling me
Because the cold mist killing steam
Between us until you are only a dream
And my mind starts bursting at the seams
Until there's a monster barely mentally caged
But the bars shake when it is constantly enraged
When your saccharine emotions are cynically staged
My bustling brain will unfortunately always be plagued
By your neutral reactions which I'll never be able to gauge

You hold two hands behind your back
Will it be an attack?
Our two hands should meet
Instead I'm trampled by feet
Samuel Hoffmann Aug 2018
Remember when we spelled things wrong,
or when we were picky about what we ate?
When fire and police men were the only two jobs,
we’d play house with friends on playdates.

And then we grew up just a little more,
sports and toys filled our lives.
We went to school and had recess galore,
oh the fear for cuties, oh what great times.

And then we grew up just a wee bit more,
we learned to add, subtract, and multiply.
Not far after we went to high school and college,
they warned us, they said “time will fly by.”

And then we grew up just couple years more,
next thing we knew we were the family of four,
Then late at night when the kids were in bed,
we would dream of being young once more.

And then we grew up for the last few times more,
Our children had children of their own.
We lost our friends and babysat grandkids,
as our bodies ached down to the bone.

Remember when we spelled things wrong?
And then we grew up just a little more,
And then we grew up just a wee bit more,
And then we grew up just couple years more
And then we grew up for the last few times more,
Until we no longer grew any more.
...

--sam
Jupiters Dawn Jan 15
Layers
Distance
Transparency

Layers add transparency
     Layers make opacity
          Layers make body
               Body makes validation
                    Validation gives weight
                         Weight gives body
                              Body made of layers
                                   Layers are opaque
                                        Opaque avoids transparency
Transparency is avoided

To see through is to see clearly                 Unobstructed?
Does obstruction give interest                 Or avoidance?
To see clearly removes the layers
looking for transparency
removes the layers that are needed
layers of interest and context

                       The work needs to be layerless but be layered
Carter Ginter Jun 2013
I heard the buzz of the phone on my desk,
While I lay in bed but can't resist the urge to check;
Thought it'd be my mom or my friend again,
Even after having goodnights sent.
Should have known it'd be you,
So out of the blue.
I read your words so bright in the dark,
And tonight that's all they are:
Words, words, and empty somethings.
Not tonight sweetheart, it's worth about nothing.
Because if you're going to add fuel to the flames,
In the end don't expect not to feel the pain.
When the fire turns back on you, it's yours
Because I won't take your burns anymore.
Carter Ginter Feb 28
When did things change so much?
When did I get so encapsulated
Into the world of technology?
When did I stop listening
To myself and my own thoughts
And instead add another view
To some article or YouTube video
Just to reach some spoon-fed "opinion"?

When did we stop engaging
In life and with ourselves?
When did playing video games turn to
Watching other people play them online
Numbing our brains to the world
And "filling" our social needs digitally?
When did watching television turn into
Binge-watching an entire series in one sitting?

With this much constant stimulation
It's no wonder we're bored so easily
And that no one goes outside anymore
And that I don't feel alive anymore
Because one of the first things I do
When I get home from work or the gym
Is turn on the smart tv so it can warm up
Because the apps on it take time to load
And I already know that my free time
Will be spent in front of that screen

Lately I've been nervous about
Eventually moving in with new people
Primarily because I spend a lot of my time
Passively using the television
I was concerned with how we'd balance our usage
Instead of considering changing the way I spend my time

When did I start placing my use of technology
Above my own self-care?
When I spend hours watching YouTube
But still forget to take a shower sometimes
And I truly wonder if my recent urges
To leave the state to work on a farm for a month
Are more indicative of some deep desire
To unplug and reset my energy and priorities
Than my interest in agriculture or
Learning to live off of the land

When did I start to feel the need
To take such drastic measures
To change something so simple
Something I could choose to disengage with
At the simple touch of a button?
When
We meet
at the horizon
Pls support
My poetry book is now available
Titled: "When We Meet at the Horizon"

Amazon.com
Notionpress.com
Lizzy Apr 2015
Pill one was bad,
It made me sick.
Didn't work too well.
The zombie i became,
Drove some away.
It made the monsters multiply.
I spent my days in bed,
Too tired to move.
But lighting would strike my lips,
If I dare stop.

The next was heaven,
God lived in that pill.
Still on number one though,
It only added to my war.
See, number two had other uses.
I could take three and feel like flying.
I could crush it into dust,
And smell it's sweet high.
Pill number two got me really ******* high.

The crash from number two,
Pushed me to number three.
Withdrawal made me twitch,
Sent electricity through my veins.
Number three replaced two.
Still on one,
I hoped it would be the change.
It only made me fear for my life.
It killed my love,
Left me to die.

Doctor number two,
Please fix number one's mess.
He ****** me up bad.
But you listen to me.
You don't just write down symptoms,
And give me drugs when you tell me to leave.
Doctor two knows more about me than I do.

Take away number one,
She gave me number four.
I was a homicidal maniac.
My anger took over,
And violence seemed so lovely.
After some time this was all gone.
It did nothing to save me,
Didn't even try.
Doctor, this doesn't do ****.
It's left me drowning again.

Take away three.
Number four and five,
Now that's a combination.
Pill five stole my sleep,
And all desire to eat.
Food looked disgusting,
My heart beat quickened.
I couldn't stand still.
Now on four and five at the same time,
And starving,
I lost fifteen pounds.

Now add six.
Four, five, and six.
All at the same time.
What's happening to my body?
I've become a science project.
I felt all the chemicals in me.
Might as well have been poison,
Because six did nothing.
Like number four,
It didn't even try.

Take away four,
Give me number seven.
Now we have seven, five, and six.
It's too early to tell,
How seven will **** me up.
I don't feel human anymore,
Just chemicals with feet.
Seven, please save me.
Cunning Linguist Nov 2013
Loaded down with swag, you could say I got some baggage
Now tag me in your post - host server overload with traffic
Havoc, I smashed it I'm smokin on that hash **** its magic I'm laughin,
***** where the **** my brain go?
Oh I know **** I got so braindead before I wrote this
I'm monumental, moving boulders
Deport this *****, jumpin borders
Spit my lyrics so hot just like you was sippin Folger's
Burn your tongue? I burned my face,
You in a race?
Huh, ***** don't even try to run

Your nightmares are my fantasy
I make your dreams rip at the seams
Best believe it I'm the reason
You be losing sleep
Unfeasibly
Freddy who? Man **** that dude
This ain't no ****** "Elm Street"
11-12 Better check yourself
**** with me I killed it
You're in my world now *****

And grab your crucifix
Ha! AND PRAY TO GOD *****

Oh ****, break in the beat
I can't be defeated so don't leave your seat
So many drugs my heart feels complete
Lungs replete with the cloud of a thousand burning trees
Smokeapalooza, my brains on vacation
maybe it's a factor, all the inhalation
Snoozing you loser?
Got it going on,
Got more bombs than a marathon in Boston
AND IF YOU THINK THAT **** WASN'T A FALSE FLAG GO BACK TO SLEEP

I'm a self confessed bongaholic by definition
Cro-Magnon, I'm stone-age in terms of cognition
though hopefully I can get some ignition, generate some sparks
My colorful rhymes stand in stark contrast
against this black and white palette
all these so called artists paint with
Oh and blunts are great, ******* Wiz Khalifa
pearl another one and I'm feelin golden
withholding nothin, so I'm puffin til I'm huffin

straight baked like space muffins
something you can't relate or replicate,
so don't defame, or deface my status as
realest ***** in the rap game
no malarkey;
you have a better chance swimming with sharks b

breaking bad
take a line of that Walter White to my head
til my brains are frying like eggs at breakfast
hear just a little sizzling
**** bro I'ma wake up dead

David Banner he don't know swag
Lil' B holla that he own swag
Overflowin with all these newfags
I /b/ like :bitchplease: I ******* made swag

I'm beautiful man super cool
and all all the ******* love me
most popular boy in school
I have everything I want
it seems -
in my dreams,
******* **** me
My ADD is so infuriating
which is at least partially
why my primary hobbies
are screaming rapping and smoking ****
WHAT THE ****!
There is no end.
I don't want any normality or trend.
I want what only you can provide.
I do not want to multiply or divide.
To add you to my life
would let me live forever.
Subtract you from me
and its an endless endeavor.
To either try for you,
as hard as i can.
Or wish I had acted,
as i had once planned.
And i would rather
never forget.
Then remember you,
as my only regret.
Luz Hanaii Apr 9
Lacking connection, you pushed your way in.
Bringing and taking that is your game.
Your words don't add up to your actions,
did you think I was naive?
You underestimated the skills of a survivor.
Like in the Wizard of Oz, these flying monkeys exist in human form.
"Flying Monkey" is the term used for those gossipers who pretend to be your friend in order to give back information to the narcissist about you.
Evan Stephens Nov 2017
Green on green
          scrape
add copper
          scrape
add blue
          blend
               scrape
     blend
          scrape.

No matter how hard
you carve at the pigment
with the long flat knife,
the canvas tooth retains
the wraith-stain imprint
of the older image.
Dan Filcek Apr 2015
I’ll make this easy for you
You can reveal
You can create
You can even summon and dismiss.
This is simply an anchor
You will handle that gracefully.
It just slides into place after the other
Very handy when you need subsequent options
impacts another decision.
The option to launch
just add an object which you want to fire
You can also close the other
by just pointing
Beware of the result.
Just add truth instead.
with extra parameters
success failed
Deprecation Notice
Previous versions emitted
unnamed space
Foundation is released.
We use these to control
You can create your own, like so:
Creating the base structure
set to false
verify that foundation
You should look something like this
body Optional at this time.
However you can bind
Get a running start
Learn the fundamentals of the world
Stay on top
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. source - https://foundation.zurb.com/sites/docs/v/5.5.3/components/reveal.html
Lin Jul 2018
I think we all feel useless sometimes.
Like another gluttonous body
over populating the planet
thinking we give meaning to
already fully functional things.
The frustration of the mystery
of life consumes us.
We become obsessive in the thought
that we don't matter.
We think of leaving.

I'm a realist.
I don't entertain arrogant ideas
that small coincidences add up
to act as a "sign".
But,
today I woke from a sleepless night
at 5 am and started cleaning my room.
Deep cleaning.
I found this.
Read it.
And cried.
It was an old birthday card
my sister had written to me.
"Happy 21st birthday! Here are 21 reasons I Love You"
as I sat down to take in this moment I heard
the lyrics playing in the background
on my Pandora radio:  
"stay alive".

Please,
If you read anything today;
if you need any kind of sign
read this:  
stay alive.

Thank you Hamilton radio on Pandora.

Thank you sister.
love depression me you saving save hurt pain poem poetry trending daily
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